Send "Rakim " Ringtones to your Cell 
| Spin |
| Popmatters |
| Rakim Allah (who I’ll refer to in a number of ways throughout this review) will always be known as one of the best to ever do it. His legacy can withstand even the most deadly blows to an artist, from album delays, of which he has suffered many, to a less-than-dynamic stage presence. Although he’s never done it, the God MC could even make an ass of himself in a slew of interviews. And, depending on what he says, it wouldn’t really matter. His impact on hip-hop is basically unprecedented. Prior to his becoming the self-professed Microphone Fiend, rappers weren’t even the focus of rap songs. That’s not a diss, of course, just a known fact—the focus was primarily on the DJ and his turntables. But this Queens native (and a few other legends) changed that when he linked up with DJ Eric B. as a hungry 18-year-old spitkicker. It is now 23 years later. Rakim, his fans, and hip-hop have all aged. Both on his own and with Eric B., the God MC has dropped a total of seven albums during that span. Almost all of them dropped within a more reasonable timeframe, though, of 12 years. That was a healthier, more stable era for hip-hop. Although albums were pushed back now and then, delays were never as prominent as they are now. And Ra’s latest, The Seventh Seal, is the perfect example of that. Anticipation for this album has peaked over and over and over. Dr. Dre went from being a major player to not appearing on the project at all. Like other almost-shelved records, this one also went through a name-change—its previous title was Oh, My God....full text |
| Slantmagazine |
| t's sometimes worth remembering that rappers are largely victims of circumstance, forced collaborators incapable of creating a significant portion of their own music. Like strictly vocal lead singers, they're parasites, in the best sense of the word—creative pirates feasting off the material of others. Yet unlike a lead singer, who has the relatively secure structure of a backing band, the right mix for a rapper can be frustratingly ephemeral. It also forces an added element of business onto a genre that's already obsessed with it, making success as much about raw talent as the ability to deal with the right producers. All this conjecture finds a real application in Rakim, routinely identified as one of the best MCs of all time, who—along with Eric B—helped define the spare, sample-driven sound of late-'80s hip-hop. But the two haven't worked together in 17 years, and on The Seventh Seal, Rakim finds himself shackled to a mass of middling producers and unexceptional beats, surroundings where even his outstanding technical acumen isn't quite enough. Rest assured, that legendary skill is still present. Rakim continues to be one of the best at inexhaustively, and nearly exclusively, rapping about himself. His grandiose self-titling as the God of rap has not by any means abated (see the ballsy "Holy Are You," which mixes NOI spiritualism with insane self-aggrandizement). Yet this signature pride also feels slightly desperate and out-of-sync on an album where Rakim is constantly playing catch-up with the times. The beats here are roundly unexceptional, dense with the formal bells and whistles that now signal hits, too-hectic embellishments that, unlike Eric B's airy horn breaks, don't leave adequate room for his measured, velvety flow. This is the case for "Man Above," which starts with a whisper of promise with a familiar horn break but turns out to be little more than a nod to the past....full text |
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