Freeway finally releases sophomore record
The new album, Free At Last, comes four years after Freeway's first album.
Nov. 27, 2007
Hooded inductees into the Omicron Delta Kappa honor society line up on the stage at Jesse Auditorium Friday morning. The group was one of six participating in annual Tap Day exercises.
Performers take on the wheel as a spectator watches from a corridor.
In 2003, Freeway, the big, gruff rapper (you know the beard) from Philadelphia, released his debut album, Philadelphia Freeway.
At the time it was more than just a really great album — it was a genuinely exciting one.
Free had long been the prodigy of his boss, Jay-Z, and Philadelphia Freeway represented, if not the passing of the baton, the crowning of the prince.
That isn't to say Freeway was going to carry on the Roc-A-Fella legacy in terms of popularity or record sales, but rather that Jay had found someone on his label that could musically stand up to his legend.
Philadelphia Freeway is an accomplished and at times harrowing record full of soulful beats that both soften and accentuate Free's gravely growl.
Free's an old soul, a real throwback dude who you can honestly believe raps (or at least started rapping) for his survival, and the life or death immediacy of his first album was as refreshing as it was gripping.
"If I get rocked, this shit's for my kids," he said before lashing into that album's best song, the cataclysmic single "What We Do."
Freeway's rapping doesn't succeed or rely on punch lines or a unique flow, but rather, it relies on the force of his delivery and the overall narrative he presents.
This doesn't mean he is a bad rapper, just that his style is so urgent and forceful.
His story is so human that you can't help but instantly relate to him as a dude.
Free At Last is his long gestating and over-delayed second album, the one that was supposed to finally cement Free as a star or a legend or both years ago.
It's two years after the intended release date now, and though Free has maintained a solid fan base, he damn near lost basically all of the momentum gathered with his debut.
And that's a real shame, both because Free deserves the pub and because Free At Last is one of the best hip-hop albums of the year.
But this doesn't seem to have affected Free, who spends as much time musing on the breakup of Roc-A-Fella as he does promising that the empire is returning on his back.
On opener "This Can't Be Real" he says, "But it feels like shit ain't the same/Cuz the niggas that put this together aren't even boys/They ain't shaking, nuh/The whole team breakin' up," only to turn around on third track, "Still Got Love," and confidently proclaim, "Them haters ain't sinking the boat/Philly Freezer gon' keep it afloat/'Cause this is his time."
"When They Remember" is the most stunning and arresting track here, mainly because producer Bink cooked up a beat with a wailing soul-sample that sounds just as urgent and pained as Free himself.
It's all almost overwhelming — Freeway combined with a beat that almost tries to steal the spotlight from him — but it ends up being completely captivating, an almost endless chase for some unattainable utopia.
The back half of the album reveals itself slower, as Free settles in among mostly real thick, syrupy synth compositions.
The Scarface, 50 Cent, Rick Ross and Busta Rhymes/Jadakiss collaborations are all exceptional — it must be something about Free's energy that brings out the best in his guests.
Free At Last is not an easy album to digest — something so inherently unsettling could never be — but it's truly a gem, a diamond in the rough if a major-label rap album ever could be.
Hopefully, it won't take four more years for the next one.
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