Lloyd Banks
“Rotten Apple”
G UNIT/INTERCOPE RECORDS
Usually, when a friend or acquaintance does something offensive,
there are a few ways of evaluating exactly how wronged you feel
you’ve been.
On one hand, there’s the act itself, but on the other
hand, there is the friend’s intention.
Offensive acts are doubtless bad, but when your friend
doesn’t even try to hide it, or is shamelessly offensive
without an excuse, the lack of common courtesy makes the situation
endlessly worse.
Well, Lloyd Banks is either a bad friend, or he just
doesn’t respect us very much.
With his newest release, “Rotten Apple,” it truly
sounds like he and his gang of veteran pop-rap stars and producers
aren’t even trying.
One of them, it seems, discovered the formula for hit rap
nonsense, and they’re going to keep milking it until the rest
of us wake up.
The formula goes something like this: Take a few basic concepts
““ alcohol, women, money, violence, marijuana and the
flaunting of wealth.
Next, come up with a few street-sounding synonyms for each of
these things, as monosyllabic as possible, to facilitate
stress-free rhyme composition.
Then, make a few sentences that end with one of these words or
concepts, without any real regard to deeper connections between
them, and, lastly, arrange these sentences into groups of four.
On “Rotten Apple,” Banks returns in top form to
exploit the full potential of this formula, weaving tales of
misogyny; homicide; pretty, shiny things; and of course his true
home, the street (not the Escalade).
Despite a variety of producers, including Eminem and 9th Wonder,
and guest spots from (among others) Rakim, Mobb Deep and
Bank’s G Unit leader, 50 Cent, the album often sounds like a
broken record.
Fortunately, Banks has brought in Musiq Soulchild to explain to
us, on “Addicted,” why he’s so stuck in the
formula.
It’s not because he’s not trying ““ it’s
because this music makes him feel right at home.
“I think I’ve got a habit / and it keeps pulling me
in like a magnet / going with this kind of music puts me right back
on the block / it’s like crack to an addict,” sings
Soulchild, allowing all of us to understand Banks’ refusal to
conquer new territory.
All this leaves us wondering if Banks is the only one
confused.
On “Playboy,” he sings, “Mommy, I don’t
dance, I rock, I bop/ thousand dollars’ worth of sticky in my
sock, I’m hot / if I like it, Im’a cop it on the spot,
why not? / These haters still wont give me my props, I’m
shocked.”
He should be shocked that people were listening in the first
place.
E-mail LaRue at alarue@media.ucla.edu.