Mos Def The New Danger

If you haven't got this album yet, you're probably sat there at your screens waiting to read the verdict on this, perhaps the most eagerly anticipated hip-hop album of the year (apart from the Beastie Boys' latest offering). After all, this is the new album by Mos Def (arguably the godfather of socially-conscious rap in the 21st century), the follow up to the absolutely immense Black On Both Sides, an album so intense and packed with ideas that it had everyone from street level up to the broadsheet newspapers speaking in tongues. An album that brings with it a five-year wait that encompasses both movie and Broadway roles for its instigator, and an immense amount of pressure to surpass past achievements. Does it live up to expectations? Or is it a case of too little too late? Well, since when has Mos Def been predictable. And I could never have predicted anything this disappointing.

To say that the opening segment of this album is a disappointment would be too easy for me, especially as it is so cripplingly awful that I struggled to get through it at all, which is a feeling that I have never experienced whilst listening to an album before, especially an album by an artist that I previously held in such high esteem. You know when an album is going to be a chore to listen to when it takes two whole tracks to introduce you to the body of work, with the rambling, lackadaisical shuffle of opener The Boogie Man Song and the awful Limp Bizkit-esque flaccid funk-metal stylings of Freaky Black Greetings installing a sense of trepidation in me not felt since I once found out I had to drive to Reading Festival with the world's biggest Counting Crows fan. You'd think after that kind of opening salvo that things couldn't get much worse then this, but then again Mos Def has always been a man ready to confound his critics, and he's done it yet again, but this time it's for all of the wrong reasons. The Rape Over, a Kanye West-produced one-and-a-half minute rant at the state of hip-hop today is not only a very poor track, it also blows any lingering belief that Mos Def is a socially conscious 'man of the people' right out of the water. In between quite valid points being made about the exploitation of black music and culture by predominantly white-run multinationals, Mos Def slips into the unfortunately all-to-common hip-hop misogynist mode, stating that "Quasi-Homosexuals are running (for 'running' read 'ruining') this rap shit". It's a disgusting and quite obviously untrue statement aimed at a section of society often singled out for abuse by many, and it's so sad that Mos Def feels the need to spout such homophobic trash when so many people in the past have held him up as an example of all that is good about rap music. Alas, I feel those days may be over after that outburst.

Dodgy Rap-Metal and homophobia aside, there are a few bright points on this album to suggest that Mos Def hasn't lost touch with what we loved him for in the first place. Modern Marvel, a Marvin Gaye-sampling piece of stream-of-consciousness beauty that makes you realise why you fell in love with the guy in the first place, and both the slinky Sex, Love & Money and the minimal-yet-soulful beats of Sunshine both show encouraging signs that all has not been lost. But two or three good tracks do not a great album make, especially by someone who has proved in the past that he can do so much better.

Tiresome, lacking in any real focus and for the most part a massive let down, The New Danger is possibly the biggest letdown of 2004, and one that could damage Mos Def's career beyond repair. Quasi-Homosexuals? Multinationals? Afraid not. The only person responsible for this disappointing botched-job of an album is Mos Def himself. It's such a pity; he used to be a contender.