Rappers West, 50 Cent, are own biggest rivals

By Sean Daly, Times pop music critic
Published September 13, 2007

REVIEW

Kanye West, Graduation, (Roc-A-Fella) Grade: A-

50 Cent, Curtis, (Shady/Aftermath) Grade: B-

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On his new album, Kanye West dubs himself "the fly Malcolm X, buy any jeans necessary." On his new album, 50 Cent frowns that he "still will kill." The always eccentric West samples Steely Dan and Parisian electronica oddballs Daft Punk; the forever gangsta Fiddy unloads more gunshot effects than a Rambo flick. Mr. West's new liner notes feature a cartoon bear; Mr. Cent's liner notes feature the star eating a handgun with knife and fork.

For all the talk of the hyper Kanye West and the brooding 50 Cent battling for hip-hop supremacy this week, there's one thing to remember: They excel at two totally different styles, and their new albums, West's Graduation and Fiddy's Curtis, both released Tuesday, will no doubt appeal to different audiences willing to spend their money.

Sure, they both rap, they both brag, they both sport egos the size of zeppelins. They also have myriad special guests to spare: Coldplay's Chris Martin and rappers Mos Def and Lil Wayne back Kanye; Justin Timberlake, Akon and Mary J. Blige help 50.

But West, who calls himself "the Louis Vuitton don," hails from the middle-class 'burbs of Chicago. He's famously vainglorious, but he's also insecure, a bipolar act that never fails to entertain. The Queens-born 50 Cent, a.k.a. Curtis Jackson, "the Teflon don," is a former drug dealer who's been shot nine times. He's John Wayne in da club, an asphalt gunslinger, and he plays the part of the ultimate, all-id male, no apologies.

So instead of comparing them to each other, you should compare them to themselves. Graduation and Curtis are third albums for both, and while one artist continues to push the envelope on hip-hop song structure, the other is content to strut down the same ol' bang-bang street, guns cocked, banks robbed, the clock set to High Noon.

West's inaugural disc, 2004's The College Dropout, was a head-spinning marvel, especially unlikely radio smash Jesus Walks, an incendiary melange of militaristic gospel. His second album, 2005's Late Registration, was good especially the hit Gold Digger but ultimately bloated, as West, equally famous as both a producer and a rapper, had too many ideas. Graduation, the completion of Kanye's "academic" trilogy, is a tight 13 tracks, with pulsing synthesizer and a faint '80s vibe. It's not as revolutionary as Dropout - and it features a dud or two along the way - but it nevertheless sends West out into the world as a legit groundbreaker.

A head case with hot beats, the 30-year-old West is as quotable as ever. On the smash single Stronger, a five-minute pickup line, he tries his best to seduce a woman on the dance floor: "You know how long I've been on ya? Since Prince was on Apollonia, since O.J. had Isotoners." That's nutrageous, for sure, but not as silly as the hook, the talking-robot squawk of Daft Punk's Harder, Better, Faster, Stronger.

Per usual, Kanye's insecurities and raging ego battle for control, and West, a notorious whiner at awards shows, thrives on letting them have at it. On the acid-jazz throwdown of Barry Bonds, he compares his freakishly large pride ("my head's so big you can't sit behind me") and knack for hits to the record-setting slugger. He crowns himself Champion on a devilishly fun song that samples Steely Dan's Kid Charlemagne.

But on the lush Good Morning, he questions all the work he's done so far over a sample of Elton John's Someone Saved My Life Tonight: "Wake up, Mr. West, Mr. West, Mr. Fresh, Mr. by-his-self-he-so-impressed/I mean, d---, did you even see the test?/You got Ds . . . "

Kanye's greatest strength is his ability to keep listeners off-balance but still having fun. And he throws a doozy of a curveball on the album closer, Big Brother. Here, he analyzes his complex relationship with friend and mentor Jay-Z, admitting, with both pain and pride, that he'll always walk in Shawn Carter's shadow: "If you admire somebody, you should go ahead and tell 'em/People never get the flowers, while they can still smell 'em."

50 Cent would never show such vulnerability, but then again, that's not what he's paid to do. With such point-blank producers as Dr. Dre and Eminem laying down bass-heavy, head-nod beats, 50 Cent plays the same ol' part on Curtis, busting heads and breaking hearts, riling enemies on My Gun Go Off and Fully Loaded Clip and seducing women X-rated-style on Amusement Park and Fire. The whole thing's about as original as a Lethal Weapon movie, and there are a few truly lousy tracks, including a muddled duet with Mary J. Blige.

But there's also a strange comfort to the album. Such testosterone-jacked songs as I Get Money and Come & Go have a hypnotizing menace as the synths buzz and choruses loop and catch. Fire, featuring the Pussycat Dolls' Nicole Scherzinger, is a sizzling club track and the album's best chance at a No. 1. And the Timbaland-produced Ayo Technology, which features Justin Timberlake cooing the hook, is as sensitive as Fiddy gets - as he praises real-life strippers over cold, crass computer porn.

The 32-year-old 50 Cent now lives in a Connecticut mansion, far from his violent past. You can call him hypocritical for keeping it gangsta, or you can enjoy him playing a part, the fighter, the warrior, the living, breathing video game. He has no desire to be Kanye West. In a battle of wits, Fiddy brings an Uzi. And if you have a problem with that, well, he really doesn't care.

Sean Daly can be reached at (727) 893-8467 or sdaly@sptimes.com. His Pop Life blog is at blogs.tampabay.com/popmusic.

[Last modified September 12, 2007, 18:06:27]