Snoop forgoes the sound that made him famous on this laid back thirteenth solo outing
Rap music is a young man’s game. Drake, one of the genre’s biggest stars, says he doesn’t want to rap past the age of 35. Rap is about being “young and fly” he says, and, for now at least, he’s right.
Perhaps that’s why Snoop Dogg has given up rapping for the most part on Bush, his new and thirteenth solo album. He forgoes the sound that made him famous and sings in a subdued, relaxed style not entirely unlike his rapping voice.
A handful of singles aside, Snoop hasn’t really offered anything notable since 2006’s Tha Blue Carpet Treatment other than 7 Days of Funk, his collaboration with producer Dam-Funk. It’s been clear that Snoop, while laid-back and smooth as ever, is no longer “young and fly” and that it’s time to stop rapping.
Funk has been the foundation of Snoop’s career, he first arrived on the scene in 1992, menacing yet laid-back on Dr. Dre’s G-funk opus, The Chronic. It’s only right that, needing guidance at a crossroads in his career, Snoop would go all the way back to what influenced his beginnings.
From the second the Neptunes’ warm trademark synths enter on album opener California Roll, it’s clear that Snoop’s maturation into full-blown purveyor of funk is a good thing. Stevie Wonder’s harmonica flutters beautifully in the background as Snoop and Pharrell embark on their quest to soundtrack your summer drives to the beach.
Lyrically, the album never strays from classic Snoop material; weed, women, etc. You won’t find any enlightenment in this album, but to expect any would be to miss the point of what is simply a celebration of Chic-like good times. Similarly lacking is variety, at 41 minutes the album is a brief and fun listen, but tracks (specifically standout Peaches ‘n’ Cream and the lesser I Knew That) do have a tendency to sound alike.
When Snoop and others decide to rap over the funky production, the album falters; T.I. flounders and almost loses himself under a synth line on Edibles, Snoop’s raps do nothing that he hasn’t done before while Rick Ross is utterly pointless on I’m Ya Dogg. Kendrick Lamar suceeds where Ross failed with his glottal, stop-start flow matching Williams’ stacatto keyboard chords.
A great deal of the album is shaped by Snoop’s supporting cast, Williams and Gap Band leader Charlie Wilson on background vocals and guitarist Brent Paschke’s Nile Rodgers impressions on Awake. The vocal interplay between Snoop and Gwen Stefani on Run Away will leave you wishing that the No Doubt songstress had played a bigger role on the album.
Despite the occasional misstep, Bush is a 41-minute long party. It may not change your life, but it might just change your night.
Odran De Bhaldraithe
