Posted on 09/12/2005

 

Cormega. Screwball. The UN. Big Shug. What do these artists have in common? They all spit that rugged New York thug shit, and they do it over some of the grittiest "street" beats in the biz (provided by the likes of Pete Rock, Extra P et al). So, it's not surprising that this debut album by Primo and Guru’s boy, Big Shug, is big on the beats and light on the lyrics, which are almost a side dish. The album's formula is fairly straightforward—much like Shug's rhymes. There are no frills (punchlines or extended metaphors) just New York straight-talk, over solid, but rarely exceptional, beats by DJ Premier and the Alchemist. Shug spends much of his time asserting his street authenticity and letting studio gangstas know that he's not no fakin' jack. Other times, he's joined by long-time collaborators, Guru and Bumpy Knuckles, and lesser-knowns, Singapore Cane and T-Wes, who do more of the same. When Shug retreads this familiar territory ("Life on Wax", "No Mother, No Father" and the confessional "Dirt"), it works only due to his compelling sincerity. Other times, his boasting is as transparent as a crack vial. "Shuggy Diamonds", for instance, is a horribly flashy manifesto of materialist posturing and patriarchal protection.



owever, the big man has a lil' summ'n for critics who think he is nothing but a one-trick pony: he sings too. This attempt to take his shower-time antics into the studio doesn't really work, though, as it more or less ruins the hook of "We Gangsta" and the high of "Trees". And, while Shug isn't as vocally challenged as, say, Nas, he'd be better off sticking to the script, rather than trying to flip it.



ip-hop citizens may return to their homes, as there is nothing new to see here. Fans of Premier and the Gang Starr foundation, however, may want to pick this up, just to complete their discographies.