The Roots continue social critique

By Lindsay Eanet

Published May 2, 2008

When the world is in abject turmoil, the last thing it needs is another Fall Out Boy collaboration. Luckily for Black Thought and Philly hip-hop crew The Roots, they recognized it and nipped the problem in the bud, cutting the poppy, ska-tinged “Birthday Girl,” a collaboration with FOB guitarist Patrick Stump that might or might not be about statutory rape, before it could be released on their latest album, Rising Down.

Rising Down is the closest thing The Roots would ever do to a concept album, bookended by a 1994 taped dispute between emcee Black Thought, drummer ?uestlove and their managers. The conversation quickly grows violent, with screams of frustration from both sides becoming unintelligible and getting lost in the static. It immediately becomes clear there will be no upbeat guitars here, no pop-punk collaborators, no sugarcoating. Black Thought and the band mean business, and Rising Down is decidedly darker, more introspective and socially urgent than anything else the group has done. The tone continues into “Rising Down,” which sports beats as gritty as a subway railing, spare plucking from guitarist Captain Kirk and powerhouse guest verses from Mos Def and Styles P. The sense of urgency is instantly felt with wordplay on drugs and global climate change: “Between the greenhouse gases and Earth spinnin’ off its axis/Got Mother Nature doin’ back flips.”

“75 Bars (Black’s Reconstruction)” is one of the album’s best tracks and the closest to The Roots’ recognizable style. Black Thought spits at breakneck speed, never breaking stride to give us a State of the Union on hip-hop, black culture, American culture and the perpetuation of stereotypes, referencing everything from Tyler Perry to behavioral meds like Percocet and Percodan. One of the few tracks without guest rappers, “Reconstruction” gives ?uestlove a chance to show off his drumming prowess, which is always on.

The guest spots keep coming and work for the most part to elevate the simultaneous urgency and creativity from their hosts. Dice Raw and Peedi Crakk recall KRS-One on “Get Busy” and Saigon (of “Entourage” fame) keeps it simple on “Criminal,” letting his collaborators have the spotlight. Rapper Porn is heard on several tracks, including the biting, at times even sneering “I Will Not Apologize.” Porn and Dice Raw both bring well-crafted verses that could rival Black Thought’s, bringing the album to its peak as a call to action and tearing the Bush administration its 2,000th new asshole: “Yo a revolution what it’s smellin’ like/It ain’t gon’ be televised/Governments is hellified/Takin’ cake and sellin’ pies.”

“Singing Man” is one of the album’s finest moments, a deeply moving study of violence, with verses told from the perspectives of a Virginia Tech-like school shooter, a child soldier in Liberia and a suicide bomber. Toward the end, the album picks up. “The Show” is the call to action, featuring a rather upbeat verse from Chicago rapper Common and the refrain of “The show, the show, it must go on.”

“Rising Up” is the Obama moment, offering a glint of optimism after the brooding nature of the rest of the album. Newcomer Chrisette Michelle is a dead ringer for Lauryn Hill (back when she was awesome) and D.C. phenom Wale offers much-needed doses of hope and humor on his verse: “But if you ain’t gotta dance they revoke your spinnin’/So good rappers ain’t eatin’/They Olsen Twinnin.’”

Things seem all right in the end before the hidden track reveals the conversation from 1994, the band still embroiled in their struggle. The ending is left ominous and bittersweet, proving the band’s genius in leaving the solution up to us, the listeners.