Sound bite

DJ Muggs vs. GZA/The Genius “Grandmasters”
Angeles Records The Wu-Tang Clan has never really been
considered an inclusive group. From its ruthless hip-hop oligarchy
to its unmitigated disdain for other MCs, the Clan has long
isolated itself. Group member the RZA has even held down the
production for most Clan members’ solo albums, which are
punctuated by so many “guest” appearances from fellow
Wu-Tangers that they flow like one of the group’s collective
efforts. On “Grandmasters,” the most recent solo
release by a member of the Clan, GZA/The Genius has opened the
doors of Shaolin to Cyprus Hill’s DJ Muggs in a collaboration
that reminds us why we listen to them individually and asks why
they didn’t team up earlier. The RZA’s stark, menacing
and experimental beats have long been a staple of GZA’s
musical vocabulary. Delving through new layers of sonic grime until
he finds something just nasty enough to put over a beat, the RZA
has invented a sound as rough as GZA’s threats. Though
powerful, this stripped-down style of dirty, simplistic loops and
darkly muffled drums can strike the listener as thin, and this is
where DJ Muggs departs from the Wu-tang Clan sound to expose
another side of GZA. What Muggs lacks in experimentation and
ferocity, he makes up in subtlety and harmonic fullness. Although
none of the tracks on this album catch the listener in the
paroxysms of a rap battle, heads will certainly nod in tacit
approval. On “Queen’s Gambit,” Muggs’
sedated piano loop is spurred into life by a tumbling bassline,
while a muted trumpet and female voice whimsically dance above the
texture. “Those That’s Bout it” holds interest
with a sustained dominant chord and bass playing that swats this
tonality in and out of a state of tension, and “Smothered
Mate” contains a smoldering interplay between a distorted
guitar’s lower-register twang and an organ texture that
wiggles like a heat mirage. As influential as an album’s
production is for an MC, GZA will always be GZA ““ whether or
not he is required to navigate a groovier, more conservative sound.
Even on the most subdued tracks of “Grandmasters,” the
MC sounds like he’s leaning forward, spitting his praises and
tangentially connected stories from the front end of the beat. His
asymmetrical delivery benefits from music more rhythmically complex
than that of the RZA, leaving pauses that are filled by an active
bass line or some off-kilter drumming. The self-described
“hyperactive rhyme-slinger” gives the sense of
overflowing in slow motion as he flies through subject matter in
some sort of lyrical double-time, never repeating himself. Each
track gives momentary access to GZA’s seemingly inexhaustible
bank of rhymed ideas ““ in fact, the lyrical content of this
album is served up with the effortless spontaneity of a mind that
just does not stop. The members of the Wu-Tang clan have long been
interested in strategic struggle, something that earlier manifested
itself in an obsession with martial arts and Kung Fu movies. Here,
GZA turns to chess, preserving his fire but symbolically shifting
from swordplay to carefully plotted captures. It’s a move
that should be noted, and an album that, with the help of DJ Muggs,
showcases The Genius from another, more thoughtful angle.

““ Alex LaRue