Common_LEAD

After toying around for nearly a decade Common has finally put together a proper full length. Black America Again is clear in its stance, an album that addresses political and social controversies head on. With a legitimate blueprint in place, Common is able to pen writtens that tap into what he does best, which is speak from the heart; entertainment and marketability be damned.

Producer Kareem Riggins plays a huge role in the album’s success. Riggins, an experienced drummer and a student of jazz draws upon past and present styles to create a backdrop that is neither too nostalgic nor modern, a timely balance that speaks to multiple generations. It embodies the struggle that Common is looking to embrace, and together they craft Common’s best album since Be.

Joy and Peace

With Kareem Riggins on the beat, Common now has a proper mind to bounce ideas off of. The depth alleviates some of the pressure on Common who over the past several years has been inconsistent at best. He’s laying it on thick, embracing a strong religious motif. Luckily for him his resume gives him the credibility to talk about such heady subjects. It’s short, sweet and to the point. A good start:

Joy and Peace

Home

Riggins slays it again, dialing up the tempo and getting Common’s lyrical legs working again. The graininess of the samples bring him back to the days when he was more of an activist than a Hollywood hopeful. Bilal brings a cosmic touch, adding another layer to the already heavy-handed message. The self-righteousness is thick, but the benevolence and thoughtfulness is sorely needed:

Home

Black America Again

The slamming piano licks give way to an immediate sense of angst. Common responds with fire, discussing injustices that have plagued the black community for centuries. He’s digging deep explaining that this is a systematic dismantling that goes all the way up to the top. It’s not a common theme in rap, and he’s presenting it with a fearless attitude. Stevie‘s presence only adds to the urgency:

Black America Again

Lovestar

Saccharine lullabies from the king of sappy rap. A decade ago it would have started a revolution, but in this domain it leaves the legs rubbery and uninspired, thirsting for some realness. His verse is a shade under what it should be; noodling in and out of delicate intimacy and vulgar cliches. The beat adds a tackiness to it that only magnifies the cheap pillow talk. A weak return to the stage:

Lovestar

Red Wine

Sandwiching himself between two majestic songbirds only magnifies his fall from grace. While the sirens are consistent with their calls, Common noodles around aimlessly with no sense of place or purpose; one moment he’s Fred Hampton and the next he’s Casanova, the two personalities mixing about as well as oil and water. The women shine as Common takes a backseat to more able-bodied lyricists:

Red Wine

Pyramids

Stripping the beat down to basic necessities means that there is nowhere to hide. And instead of cowering or relying on age old tropes, Common responds with an electric verse. He’s taking a stand, setting an example for other artists who share the same vision. He’s shouting out the homies, and in the process establishing a stronghold for other up and comers to find sanctuary in:

Pyramids

Unfamiliar

Things gets off to a slow start because of PJ who sounds like an off brand Erykah Badu. The lofty beat ensures that it’ll be a love song, but thankfully Common doesn’t make it too sappy, which he has a tendency to do when working with new artists. The theme is rock solid. He’s painting a portrait of love with deft precision, using a multitude of techniques that show his range as an artist:

Unfamiliar

A Bigger Picture Called Free

Scaling back on the beat gives fans an opportunity to hear Common at his finest. When he’s not rushing or competing with the beat he can delve deep into his memory bank and pull verses that make him sound more like a poet than a rapper. Syd tha Kid is a superstar and her voice adds a silky touch that can be felt from miles away. It’s a nostalgic jam, but no so much that he loses the crowd:

A Bigger Picture Called Free

The Day Women Took Over

A slightly transparent gesture, but one that stands with the theme of the album. It’s a lady’s jam, but not your traditional one in that he adopts a more thoughtful approach. The beat is sweet, but complex enough to avoid a pandering tone. The idea is right, but he is a bit misguided believing that women make as much as men do. It’s getting better no doubt, but the disparity is still alarming:

The Day Women Too Over

Rain

John Legend has an angelic voice, but his touch always adds a hokey element that is at times unbearable. This is no exception as he brings in an orchestra to help speak his piece. The ornateness of it doesn’t mesh well with the album’s direction, and Common sounds more like a guest than a frontman. As a single it hits, but alongside other songs it’s a little too dolled up:

Rain

Little Chicago Boy

Family takes center stage and the emotions can be felt from the first verse to the last. What makes his perspective so unique is that he’s talking about having a positive male figure in his life, which is rare especially in hip-hop where moms have been top dog. This isn’t the first song he’s dedicated to his father, and hopefully it won’t be his last. An ode laced with love and admiration:

Little Chicago Boy

Letter to the Free

Common ends it on a somber note. It’s an appropriate closing that certifies this as a powerful album of protest. With the call and response chorus, the beat sounds like it was plucked right out of the civil rights movement. Riggins once again is the hero, crafting an appropriate backdrop for Common to pontificate over. He’s saying that despite notable progress slavery is still alive:

Letter to the Free