In April 1987, The Los Angeles Police Department, under Chief of Police Daryl Gates launched Operation Hammer as a response to a drive-by shooting at a birthday party. The initiative, derived from gang sweep policies from the 1984 Olympic Games, was a large-scale roundup of gang members. The height of the operation was in 1988. In one weekend that April, police arrested 1,453 people in South Central in one weekend. On August 1 of that year, a large-scale police raid amounted to an act of terrorism, while only yielding “fewer than six ounces of marijuana and less than an ounce of cocaine.” Eight days later, N.W.A. released their debut album, Straight Outta Compton: an irreverent collection of party anthems with its pointed rally cry front and center. The album’s highly publicized biopic dropped last week and is the likely reason for their elusive producer Dr. Dre to drop his first album in 16 years. There’s an unprecedented austerity to the proceedings and it works to the strengths of his players. Lead by Dre, Kendrick Lamar, and Hellfyre Club B-teamer Anderson .Paak; Compton goes back and forth between socially relevant commentary, rap game elitism, and Hall of Fame speeches.
To attribute the surfacing of Dre to the times would be to play the same card often played with D’Angelo’s re-emergence last winter. While it makes sense given that The Chronic and Straight Outta Compton include reactionary rhetoric, the release of the movie and Dre’s stamp of approval are more likely reasons he releasedCompton last week. It turns out that Andre Young’s co-sign on his own work is better than any of ours. Aside from the relative unknowns here, of which there are more than enough, Dre lovingly curates his past and present. Kendrick Lamar is smashing everything in sight. Eminem comes through with his best track with a female vocal accompaniment since “Superman.” Xzibit appears on his biggest stage since Pimp My Ride. Snoop Dogg takes a break from the breezy, funky production he’s been known to pair up with as of late to deliver unfiltered condescension. Cold 187um, who worked on Eazy E’s infamous EP, It’s On (Dr. Dre) 187um Killa, appears to befuddle an entire couple of generations that don’t remember (one of the best West Coast rap albums ever) Above the Law’s Livin‘ Like Hustlers. The Game announces his presence as an OG in less than two-and-a-half minutes more than he did by actually saying it on his last three albums. Ice Cube is even inspired on standout track, “Issues.”
Reading Compton as a scrapbook of Dr. Dre’s illustrious career yields predictably impressive results, but what’s missing are various pieces of the West Coast hip-hop tradition that Dr. Dre was instrumental in ushering in. What he brought to the table was impressive, but it’s easy to think about those we lost: Eazy-E, Nate Dogg, 2Pac for starters. Eazy-E is salient because Dre mentions him multiple times on Compton. It’s well-documented that the two didn’t end on good terms. There’s also Nate Dogg, whose hooks were an unforgettable part of The Chronic and 2001. He died in 2011 and was recently a posthumous feature on Warren G’s EP. There’s 50 Cent, who is on the “Mo’ Problems” side of the equation and Kurupt who is plenty active but happens to not be on this album for a reason beyond me. DJ Yella and MC Ren aren’t here, possibly because Dre doesn’t think they’re good enough. And these are just the big names, I’ve gotten to. Dr. Dre’s career on record has been a family affair. It’s fitting that Compton looks backward because of the context Dre relinquishes it into. Not only a movie that appreciates him and his group’s contribution to the world of music, but a nation that has been hesitant to change what made five young black men from Southern California feel alienated in the first place.
Of the big names here, Dre’s only one, excepting Kendrick Lamar, intent on addressing these issues. It results inCompton‘s two best tracks, “Deep Water” and “Animals.” Incidentally, it’s Anderson .Paak that makes these tracks special, simulating drowning with his voice on the former track and providing the soaring hook on the latter. He’s at the forefront of a new generation, likely the last, of contributors to Dre’s empire. The other here is DJ Dahi, who produced Drake’s “Worst Behavior,” but was also a key prong on the team of producers No I.D. employed for Vince Staples’ excellent Summertime ’06.
As expected of a reflective work of the older artist, Compton comes with some altered perspective. While the political ire of his earlier works remains intact, this album knows better than to celebrate gang violence. Life is too short to be mad at each other and nothing drives that home when close friends die with both parties still mad at each other. There’s no bachelor yelps of bitches not being shit but hoes and tricks, either. But nobody told this to a few of Dre’s guests, of course. Sure, there’s Eminem’s rape bar. It will certainly looked at as a dated stain on an otherwise great verse. Of course that’s on an audience that looks at something as atrocious as rape as something trendy, that could be considered passé. In a way, that reaction worse than how Eminem, who likely isn’t raping anyone these days, is merely saying it to troll listeners as usual. More gross is the murder skit at the end of “Loose Cannons,” which still does not approach the sociopathy of something like “Kim,” nor does it feel quite rooted in horrorcore.
For all the talk about the past, Compton manages to capture Dre sounding fresh, yet unrecognizable. The production is modern, worlds away from G-Funk. In fact, closer “Talking to My Diary” is a jazz number. Frenetic drums are all over the place. The DJ Premier-assisted “Animals” came from his sessions from Russian producer BMB Spacekid. Compton shares the subdued vibe of its predecessors, but that’s about it. On the mic, Dre is hardly recognizable at times. As it turns out, it’s a different path to the same destination. He’s still getting the best out his collaborators and again, spins a cohesive album out of it. That the game has caught up to him proves inconsequential. If Compton is a send-off, it’s a fitting one. Dre may have not fixed the world, but he leaves the game with his city rich in musical lineage, releasing better music than anywhere else.
Rating: 4/5