Q-Tip’s first released solo album in nearly a decade comes on the heels of a collective sigh when its release date was announced (and set in stone). His last album, Kamaal the Abstract, was scrapped by the record company in 2003 and remains unreleased (except for bootlegs and the like). In stores, we only had his 1999 solo debut, Amplified. That’s a long time to wait for new material from one of the biggest names in hip hop (at least, good hip hop). He’s done some producing and did guest appearances aplenty on a variety of records in the meantime (and recorded hours and hours of material that’s never seen the light of day), but his long-awaited sophomore solo effort is what we’ve been waiting for. It’s tough to say if the results were worth the wait—what’s the quality equivalent of nine long years?—but he does deliver the goods.
The Renaissance is an appropriate name for the album, since it represents a forward-thinking ideal that could make the genre more fruitful than any time since the start of the 90s. Early in the album, the production threatens to overwhelm Q-Tip’s voice; the mixing is either mishandled or it serves a hidden agenda. But as the album hits its stride, Tip’s rhymes lean just ahead of the beats—the pulse shoves the words deep into the eardrums. And with that, he manages not to linger on his 90s heyday with Tribe and Amplified. Instead, he reaches back for the same jazz-soul flavor that made A Tribe Called Quest so memorable and makes it his own. With only a few exceptions, the music is relatively methodical and direct and favors live instruments over programming. Even when the hooks come on strong, they’re still smooth and animated. He avoids the overwhelming club beats that far too many rappers lean on like a crutch these days.
On The Renaissance, Q-Tip avoids many of the pitfalls of contemporary rap albums. He samples from artists like Stevie Wonder and the Jackson 5 (I think I even heard Can—yes, Can—in the mix, too), but it’s never blatant and certainly never random—they always serve their uses against the main melodies. And while he lets a few guests through the door to record guest vocals (including Norah Jones, Raphael Saadiq and D’Angelo), it’s not an endless parade and they feature only in the choruses—all of the verses belong to Q-Tip. As for the frustrating number of interludes and filler tracks that ruin the flow of most rap albums, not a second is wasted on The Renaissance. Like a good jazz number, you wish it could run even longer.
Musical highlights include the catchy beats on “Gettin’ Up” and the unexpectedly aggressive “Move,” the lovely looping keys of “You,” the snare and bass driven dance song, “ManWomanBoogie,” the melodic bookends of the otherwise forgettable “Life Is Better” (Tip spends most of his energy just running through a long list of rapper names—an ode that comes with a yawn), and the way guest musician Kurt Rosenwinkel’s guitar comes alive on closer, “Shaka.” As for Q-Tip’s rhymes, he does deliver a necessary record company slam on “Dance with Glass” (they had it coming), but most of it avoids mere dissing, and instead reinforces a more positive vibe, one that paints a vibrant picture. Topics include the personal conflicts in the Iraq War, gender issues, faith both singular and global and hope in the political future. Even when he goes negative, saying, “I had a notion that things were fishy/But everything was fine so I'd be pissy/But when you wasn't seeing me nights you get in/That’s when the snoopin’ and shit it would begin,” it’s imbued in melancholy rather than rage. Unfortunately, he can’t help but spin his MC name during a rather lame moment on “Johnny Is Dead”—“But what good is an ear if a Q-Tip isn't in it?”
Some may complain that he’s not as adventurous with his production tricks as he could be. While there’s no doubt that The Renaissance is innovative, it’s tough not to flashback from time to time to Tribe’s Midnight Marauder. And no matter how fluid Tip’s phrasings are, his delivery is a bit too mechanical for its own good. The silver-lined and synth-spiked production makes his usually nasally but suave voice sound almost robotic when the beats barb his throat. Once accustomed to the occasionally over-technical aspects of the album, though, it’s tough to resist. And with no outright losers on the tracklist, keeping this disc on repeat is no hassle at all.
But even if The Renaissance isn’t a world-awakening, genre-defining masterwork, it’s still among the best hip hop records of the last several years. It might be unfair to expect something transcendent from the Abstract, but after the long wait, an album that’s relatively “safe” and “tame” may seem to be a disappointment. But it’s consistent with his outlook and earlier efforts—change through prosperity, not violent rebellion. And start-to-finish, it’s a winner. By cutting the fat, priming hooks that are both simple and irresistible, and keeping his message clear, redeeming and optimistic, he’s a beacon to the rest in the field. Even if (as I suspect) it doesn’t usher in some new Renaissance for the rap community, at the very least, you’ll have something great to dance to.
"The Renaissance" is on sale November 4, 2008 from Universal Motown.
