Just over six months after Elektra Records squeezed every penny out of Russell "Ol' Dirty Bastard" Jones' drug-bloated body, D3 Entertainment wants its share as well. I never heard or read what this thing is until ten seconds before writing this sentence: D3 (or D-3) is a subsidiary of Death Row Records.
The material that Jones accidentally recorded while on the run in the months leading up to his capture, somehow ended up to D3. I don't think the artist signed with them. And Jones is still in prison. The label wants to assemble a new Ol' Dirty Dog album, but quite simply, the material isn't there. And the little they have, well, that, that's as if it wasn't there. The quality is that bad. Sure, with some expert dude and some time and patience, the little material they have where the rapper grumbles about something randomly, it could be fixed, however, the label has no time or patience. Nor dudes competent enough to do it. At the beginning of 2002, this sort of compilation was released. It's not a studio album. And it's not a mixtape. Eighteen tracks, six skits, two remixes, maybe a couple of tracks where Dirt McGirt spits something new totally random and incomprehensible, and the rest is made up of his stanzas recycled from previous albums. There would be no material to make a decent short original EP either, in any case, the D3 brings out this stuff.
The production is entirely done by Tytanic, an unknown guy with the appropriate name, because his work is disastrous. One track is credited to One Eye and one to Brooklyn Zu. Brooklyn Zu. It's like crediting the Wu-Tang Clan: it means that half a dozen different people could have done that beat. It doesn't mean anything. Buddha Monk seems to be one of the few to have produced things before 2002, so, it could be a rhythm made by him, I don't know. It's not important: the music of this tape is among the worst of the year, any genre. Tytanic places some of the most annoying and cheap sounds of the early 2000s, it's difficult to deal with single cuts due to drums that are always painful and terrible. The mixing doesn't exist, there's an accredited guy who for the sake of the right to be forgotten I don't want to bring back, but the mixing is as if it didn't exist, it doesn't exist. It's all horrible, impossible to sustain.
From the tracklist, this looks like a West Coast album. This is a West Coast album. Realizing that the market in New York could be saturated and that potential buyers would not be fooled, D-3 decides to give it a precise imprint: Mack 10, Too Short, E-40, C-Murder, Big Syke, Royal Flush. And the Insane Clown Posse. Yes. Twice. The Insane Clown Posse. Twice. 2. It's a kind of Dantesque retaliation for the joke BZA played on the Detroit band three years earlier, when he asked for $ 30,000 to spit out random words in two days of recording as featuring on their new album. Their revenge takes place here. No logical person would put Insane Clown Posse on an album. Twice. In general, the guests are doing quite well, they spit generically and effortlessly, on a very bad, seedy production, and they can't add anything.
It's not a Wu-Tang record, neither rappers nor producers come from the supergroup, however, there are several affiliates. Buddha Monk of Brooklyn Zu performs on "Here Comes the Judge", over a dull rhythm, and on the posse track "Lintballz", along with Sunz of Man and Brooklyn Zu: Zu Keeper performs the intro along with Popa Wu, who also performs the hook, then the cut is opened by Two on da Road, a duo made up of ODB's brother 12 O'Clock of Brooklyn Zu and RZA's cousin Prodigal Sunn of Sunz of Man. The remaining three stanzas are left to Hell Razah, Ason Unique and Buddha Monk: this is the cut that comes closest to having replay value and being sufficient, if it weren't for a sensationally poor production.
This rotten attempt to make money is killed by professional critics, rightly so. Ol' Dirty turns up his nose from prison. None of these fifty minutes can be saved. Don't buy. Don't listen. Avoid. 2.7/10.
This rotten attempt to make money is killed by professional critics, rightly so. Ol' Dirty turns up his nose from prison. None of these fifty minutes can be saved. Don't buy. Don't listen. Avoid. 2.7/10.
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