Send "Young Jeezy " Ringtones to your Cell 
| Pitchfork |
 Once upon a time, Young Jeezy was invincible, a superhero. He grew famous peddling an overblown, over-simplified cartoon of machismo and violence, pumped full of dubious sociopolitical implications and adrenaline. His first three albums were some of the last decade's finest action flicks. The widescreen production, from Shawty Redd, DJ Toomp, and others, furnished the exploding tanks while Jeezy supplied the boiled-down, bumper-sticker dialogue: "I remember nights/ I didn't remember nights." "Who, me?/ I emerge from the crack smoke." He was Stallone in Cobra; he was Schwarzenegger in Commando.But every decade has its own action heroes. Nowadays, Jeezy is just another down-on-his luck gangsta rapper being jerked around by his record company. Rick Ross is the overfed rap kingpin of the moment; the simmering feud between them has nothing to do with street credentials and everything to do with the fact that in a rap moment mired in varsity-lettered, middle-class nice guys, there's room for only one Rambo. Thug Motivation 103: Hustlerz Ambition, which has finally wheezed its way across the finish line, is a telling moment: It's a solid effort, but it's also the first time that supply for the Snowman's product has begun to outstrip demand. Nothing much is visibly wrong with Thug Motivation 103. In fact, a lot of it is pretty great: "Trapped" opens with a verse from boho neo-soul queen Jill Scott that induces misplaced nostalgia shivers for classic Lauryn Hill. Jeezy sells the hoary details of the song's poverty lament-- no cable in the house, old milk in the empty fridge-- with gut-twisting force. On "Way Too Gone", rising Atlanta producer Mike WiLL Made It (Meek Millz's "Tupac Back", Gucci Mane's "East Atlanta 6") provides a head-spinning cross-breed of trap-rap and cloud rap. The Fabolous and Jadakiss-assisted "OJ" provides the extravagant ignorance. All of it is satisfyingly huge- and evil-sounding. And yet Thug Motivation somehow feels both airless and over-inflated, the sound of an artist trying to revisit something gone. In the long gap between this record and 2008's The Recession, Jeezy has done almost nothing to tweak his formula-- a brief guest appearance by of-the-moment ATL star Future aside, there's not much here to suggest Jeezy has been keeping tabs on Southern rap's furiously molting trends, which means even the exciting moments have a certain "I am big; it's the pictures that got small" feel....full text |
| Djbooth |
| I assumed Game’s R.E.D. Album was an anomaly, but maybe it was more like a blueprint. Here’s the plan. Be a rap star. Have your album delayed repeatedly until people start to wonder if it will ever actually come out, all while releasing singles that come and go quicker than a Kardashian marriage. By the time an official date is finally set, previously sky high expectations will have plummeted. Then, in the lead up to the album release, leak a couple tracks that hint that perhaps the album actually won’t be so bad after all. Sure enough, when the album does drop, it’s dope enough to make hip-hop nation collectively scratch their heads and say, “Damn, this is way better than I expected. What the hell took so long?” Declare victory. I’m sure it’s pure coincidence, but the similarities are remarkable. Just like Game, Young Jeezy came off a successful album, The Recession, with the game already anticipating his new project. But that album would be delayed for years as singles like Jizzle and Shake Life went nowhere. When an official release date, December 20, was finally declared, it felt more like Def Jam trying to clear the seemingly stalled project off their yearly ledger than a vote of confidence. It’s safe to say that hopes were not high. But then a flurry of last minute releases, I Do and F.A.M.E. chief among them, revived a measure of confidence, and when Thug Motivation 103: A Hustlerz Ambition finally hit my headphones this week for the second time I found myself saying, “Damn, this is way better than I expected. I wonder what took so long.” Unlike Jay-Z, who no matter how often he visits the Marcy Projects has forever transcended the streets, and a rapper like Plies, who seemingly can’t see beyond the block, Jeezy has always straddled two worlds: Too intelligent to remain only a gangster, too much of a gangster to take up residence in the corporate boardroom. Much like The Recession, TM103 mirrors Jeezy’s foot in two worlds existence. For example, I Do conjures up memories of Int’l Players Anthem, coasting across the speakers with a lush soul sample and verses from some of hip-hop’s most sought after lyricists Jay-Z and Andre3K. It’s rap you could play at a wedding, which is something I wouldn’t exactly recommend for .38 (unless your wedding reception is at the stash house). Capped off by a typically high caliber verse from his CTE signee Freddie Gibbs, .38 is a return to the booming bass, posted in the trap Snowman that first blew him up. The same can be said for the raw and uncut Just Like That, which Drumma Boy helps turn into the definition of a banger. And then, just a few tracks later, the Unlikely Hip-Hop Collaborations Hall of Fame receives a new honoree when queen of neo-soul Jill Scott joins Jeezy for the deeply auto-biographical and self-reflective Trapped. No one’s saying the man’s lyrically the second-coming of Rakim, but he’s far better than the doubters would have you believe, and TM103 contains plenty of proof for those willing to listen. Unfortunately, you can’t sit around for years like TM103 did without packing on a little extra weight. Considering it came out literally a year and a half ago, I find it hard to believe anyone willing to buy this album doesn’t already have Lose My Mind, but considering the Grammy nomination we’ll give Jeezy a pass. Instead I’m talking about tracks like Everythang, which feels unfinished compared to its peers, and Higher Learning, which feels like it was included primarily under the “we have to have a song for the weed smokers” principle instead of any inherent dopeness. As for Leave You Alone…I’m still undecided. Like Higher Learning, grabbing Ne-Yo for a “song for the ladies” has strategic move written all over it, but it’s good enough to actually be enjoyable. As any true boss knows, you’re only as strong as your weakest soldier, and on TM103 you can’t help but wish Jeezy had recruited his army of tracks a little more selectively....full text |
| Spin |
| Anyone familiar with any of Atlanta trap-rap icon Young Jeezy's prior Def Jam albums, starting with 2005's Let's Get It: Thug Motivation 101, knows how this goes: The lyrics are largely ballsy statements about how "the Snowman" once shifted copious quantities of white powder on the streets, and now enjoys a luxurious lifestyle as a result. The beats flit between sparse, 808-heavy, synth-assisted productions — typified here by Drumma Boy's "What I Do (Just Like That)" and several tracks from Lil Lody — and occasionally more fleshed-out moments, the most persuasive this time being the J.U.S.T.I.C.E. League's "Trapped" and "F.A.M.E.", the latter co-starring an out-of-the-chokey T.I. Still, there's a hint more depth to the project when Jeezy starts to embrace something close to a 2Pac martyr persona. "Trapped" is the high point of this willingness to not just regurgitate the street-corner tales he's already told; it's a melodramatic redemption song that finds the rapper musing, "How I got here in the first place? / Oh, that's right, see, the trap was my birthplace." Throw in the lament "I've been cursed since the day my momma birthed me" and there's a sympathetic fatalism developing here — it's Jeezy against the world. (On "Everything," he even starts to refer to his own demise, vowing, "When I'm gone the whole world gonna know my name.") This thread isn't TM103's defining motif — the album's momentum is driven more by big-name guests (Lil Wayne on "Ballin'," Snoop on the weed-based "Higher Learning," and Jay-Z and Andre 3000 teaming up for "I Do"), and perked up with ridiculous brags like the time Jeezy "bought a Phantom just to take a nap" and the realization that he has "so many shoes I can't wear 'em." But it does suggest where he could go next, as both a songwriter and a public figure. For now, Jeezy's still rooted to the street, content to boast about being a "superstar in my hood" and throw snide shots at his haters. When it comes to trap raps, he's coined and refined a slick, successful musical formula that TM103, easily maintains. But for his next manifesto, there's now reason to believe that might move on from motivating to leading....full text |
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