Send "Rhymefes " Ringtones to your Cell 
| Pitchfork |
 It's hard not to want to root for Rhymefest. The Chicago hip-hop vet is talented, creative, and genuinely funny, and he has struggled mightily to carve his own path as a rapper to little recognition. Before Wale released his Mixtape About Nothing, Fest put out his own oddball full-length mixtape, Man in the Mirror, a goofy and affecting tribute to Michael Jackson where he rapped over tracks of the Jacksons fooling around in the studio and talked back to MJ's interview footage. It was an ambitiously odd and unique project, and it was roundly ignored. His career is a series just-misses: On 2006's Blue Collar, Fest rapped over a loop of the Strokes' "Someday", years before B.o.B. decided to start mauling Vampire Weekend songs, and the record bricked. He won a Grammy for co-writing "Jesus Walks", but Kanye axed his verse from the final version.No one's more aware of this than Rhymefest, of course, and on El Che, the endlessly delayed followup to Blue Collar, he's doing his best not to let bitterness get to him. "Used to be on J Records/ Wrote some Kanye records/ Next Grammy's just mine, this is El Che's record" he declares, early on, in "Talk My Shit". It's not long, though, before all those missed opportunities start to nag at him, and on El Che, they're mostly personified by rappers like Wale and Charles Hamilton, who rode his tricks to wider notice than he did. "Even before Wale bricked, I tried to pull 'em aside and say, 'them white boys won't sell your shit'," he claims later on "Talk My Shit", and it feels unpleasantly like gloating. Fest excoriates hipster rappers memorably-- "boy put some bass in your voice, you sound intimate/ Hip-hop's supposed to have edge, you're so innocent," he sneers-- but hearing him grumble about tight jeans and heap insults on someone as woebegone as Charles Hamilton is disheartening, and it deflates the whole "embattled revolutionary" theme of El Che....full text |
| Pastemagazine |
| On Che Smith’s second Rhymefest full-length, he showcases the lyrical precision and rhythmic diversity that won him a Grammy for co-writing “Jesus Walks” with fellow Chicago native Kanye West. “City is Fallen” is all molasses brass and smooth jazz, while the drum-and-808 throbs of “Give It To Me” could rattle a root cellar; meanwhile, his verses slide between snide (“Shoulda hollered at him when he was young and hot / You’ll never have what Michelle Obama’s got”) and passionate (“Fighting off contentment, I have a long way to go”). But El Che is all about Rhymefest the rapper, not Rhymefest the writer (“Wrote some Kanye records / Next Grammy’s just mine / This is El Che’s record,” he raps on “Talk My Shit”) and the disc suffers for it. Though prolific with tracks and mixtapes, Smith still hasn’t mastered the LP form; though excellent, this feels more like a discombobulated collection of singles than a cohesive album....full text |
| Popmatters |
| Rhymefest, government name Che Smith, is the sort of rapper we’d like to champion. Coming up as a battle rapper in Chicago before eventually out-dueling Eminem at the 1997 Scribble Jam, Rhymefest didn’t secure himself a strong record deal until fellow-Chicagoan Kanye West established his G.O.O.D. Music label and decided to make the “Jesus Walks” co-writer his label’s flagship rapper. The result was 2006’s Blue Collar, a well-intentioned and professional first effort that went unnoticed in the market place. The slow sales resulted in a five-year gestation period for its follow-up: it’s a horror story that seems to happen in hip-hop more than anywhere else. It’d be nice to see Rhymefest avoid the sophomore slump after such a long absence from the public eye (he was last seen dissing Charles Hamilton of all people), but what starts out as another enjoyably workmanlike effort quickly dissolves into generic if not plain awful music. Symbolyc One has received a lot of press lately for his bombastic re-working of a King Crimson jam for Kanye West’s latest single, “Power”, but his efforts on “One Arm Push Up” and “How High” are more pedestrian efforts that feel light on budget and lighter on style. “Chocolates” is even worse; quite honestly, just one listen ought to confirm it as one of the worst joints you’re likely to hear this year. There are some highlights, though. Scram Jones, whom Rhymefest collaborated with on last year’s The Manual mixtape, drops a scorcher with “Last Night”. Rymefest weaves a drunken tale slightly reminiscent of Wale’s “90210” over a dizzying production that completely matches Rhymefest’s imagery. It’s the only song on the disc that completely comes together, but the two Best Kept Secret-helmed tracks, especially the smokey barroom jazz vibe of “City Is Falling”, have Rhymefest sounding the best he can. Scram’s other two tracks are highlights as well, with “Give It to Me” in particular standing out for awakening Rhymefest and adding the similarly outcast Saigon for a verse. Too often, though, Rhymefest is stuck sounding a little corny, or like a sidekick. His flow on this album just isn’t appealing in a way that’s difficult to figure, but it’s similar to the way Will Smith sounds. There’s a lack of edge to his delivery, something that he apparently isn’t as able to overcome as well as a similar artist like Kam Moye....full text |
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