Here's the second album randomly chosen from a list of about 180 CDs in Cullen Wade's basement. If you are confused about what's happening or why it's happening on this blog, click here for an intro.
I bought this CD on release day in 2007 & didn't vibe with it much. I doubt I listened to it in full more than half a dozen times, but my favorite tracks ("Burn," "Never," "Git Out My Face") made it onto some playlists. On this listen, I was surprised how many of the other songs felt familiar, so it must have wormed its way into my brain at some point.
I pressed play & got discouraged when J. Prince, in his classic Rap-A-Lot intro, dropped the f-slur 20 seconds into the album, but things get better from there. Face was 36 when he made this album (coincidentally the age I am now), completing his transition from wild ass youngster to respected OG. (His next album was called Emeritus, if that tells you anything.) Gone is the Geto Boy who delighted in shoving shit in your face to shock you, replaced by the big homie who only tells you what you need to hear, but makes sure you hear it. It's as natural a progression for a principled street dude as it is for a terse, unfussy lyricist who makes every word count.
Face and Prince brought a solid squad of producers to the table for Made, including the genius Mike Dean (right around the time he got fully snatched up by Kanye), Nottz (who shows up for one song, the dull slut-shaming anthem "Girl You Know" ft. Trey Songz), & probably the most slept-on southern beatmaker, N.O. Joe. Joe, one of the architects of southern rap, flexes his cinematic soundscapes with "Never" & "Burn," both coldhearted odes to street life that Face fills with Raymond Chandler imagery. "Bigg Dogg Status" on the other hand, one of the only commercial-sounding tracks on the album, showcases the vintage N.O. Joe sound with tasteful 808s & dusty analog synths. The beat is almost engaging enough to make you ignore that Face used "squat to pee" as an insult 2 songs in a row.
Joe also had a hand in the album's centerpiece, "Boy Meets Girl," where that classic rubbery Rap-A-Lot bass (you know Mike Dean was lurking somewhere) meets Joe's signature synths. The song is a deft feat of storytelling: in addition to being characters, the boy represents heroin & the girl represents cocaine. Face deliberately blurs the lines between the 2 usages of "boy" & "girl," implicitly asking us at what point the drug starts consuming the person rather than vice versa. It's a stunning bit of writing & the album's best song.
Minor Rap-A-Lot producer Enigma contributes 2 beats, both of them limber, skittering chops: the classical-inspired "Git Out My Face," in which Scarface takes shots at other Texas artists like Paul Wall for their superficial content; & the album's other heavyweight, "Who Do You Believe In," which finds Face in existential sociopolitical mode. He starts with the personal, discussing the changes in his neighborhood & dropping a couplet which comes close to summing up the early hiphop zeitgeist: "The old folks is mad at us cuz they kids is lost/How you expect for us to teach when all you did was talk?" He then zooms out to discuss Middle Eastern strife, immigration clashes, Iraq & North Korea in a sweeping condemnation of what happens every time humans try to play God. The next few tracks are fine, but the album never recovers from the stark, staggering 1-2 punch of "Boy Meets Girl" & "Who Do You Believe In."
Made is not the best Scarface album, but it's no embarrassment. Unlike a lot of legacy acts, he wasn't resting on his laurels around this time. He uses the album to experiment with different flows, particularly pocket cadences molded to the beat. (Prominent on "Git Out My Face" & "Dollar.") Mostly the album just feels like it's missing something. It's a few inspired pieces, a few bits of filler, a few in between, with no thread of soul to tie it all together. Scarface, one of the all-time greats, has never made a truly bad album, but Made still doesn't give me too many reasons to revisit it.
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