On his sophomore effort, Trilla—an overblown celebration of fast money, fast women, and fast cars that teeters between exhilarating and tacky—Rick Ross rarely pauses for reflection. But so goes the good life in Miami. A gifted rapper, Ross’ delivery is a swath of staccato bursts, well-crafted rhyme schemes, and slick one-liners. “Niggas Swisher Sweet, I got to keep it blunt,” Ross spouts over the synthesized horns and rattling snares of “Pedal To The Floor.” Throughout, long, epic keyboards and tumbling tom-tom drums are standard as the album’s production force-feeds “Miami Vice” cocaine highlife through the maw of contemporary hip hop.
A more organic exception is “Maybach Music,” where Jay-Z cameos over a sinuous bassline and a dusting of pianos. “I’m G Rap with better transportation, on the road to riches,” boasts Hov. But unlike Jay, who has made a career of examining the human costs of hustling on record, Ross’ depiction of the drug trade is almost as bloodless and morally simplistic as hedge fund management. He needn’t be repentant to be compelling; even if Ross is a heartless sociopath with no ethical compass, he should at least make us shiver. Trilla is one-note—but at least it’s a high one.
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1.
notoriouscoo says:
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Ya'll thought he wasnt gon do his thang. Big ups Rick Ross The Boss.
March 28, 2008 at 6:54 am