At the end of the 1998 Hype Williams film Belly, Nas, playing a reformed outlaw named Sincere, leaves behind the violence and betrayal of his old life and moves to Africa. We don't learn where in Africa he moves, or what he does when he gets there. We just hear 'Africa,' like the entire continent is some gigantic symbol for rebirth and redemption. It's meant to be a triumphant ending, but it's frustratingly out-of-reach, missing the specificity that could've made it satisfying. There's something of that same nagging well-intentioned vagueness to Nas' latest venture, as well. Nas is in a tough spot right now, coming off of a couple of half-successful, attention-grabbing concept albums and a costly, spiteful public divorce. So it makes sense for him to link up with the scion of one of the most universally beloved figures in all of music, making a back-to-basics move that pushes him away from rap and tabloid politics.
Nas & Damian Marley - Tribal War (Featuring K'naan) from the new Album -Nas and Damian Marley - Distant Relatives (2010). Dec 15, 2009 - Nas & Damian Marley discuss collaborating on 'Distant Relatives' & what it means to their music legacy.
Nas and Damian Marley are both sons of celebrated musical figures, so god knows they probably have plenty to talk about. Five years ago, Nas guested on Marley's 'Road to Zion' and sounded great doing it. Onstage together at SXSW, they had a lively chemistry, Marley chatting madly over the 'N.Y. State of Mind' beat and Nas giddily playing hypeman on 'Welcome to Jamrock'. And first single and album opener 'As We Enter' promises great things, Nas and Marley furiously trading off tag-team punchlines over a track that perfectly splits the difference between dusty NY boom-bap and warm post-dancehall reggae. But too often on Distant Relatives, Nas and Marley fall into a sort of middlebrow funk, kicking overripe platitudes over sunny session-musician lopes and letting their self-importance suffocate their personalities. Marley's never done his best work shooting for inspirational.
On his best tracks, he brings less of his father's wizened optimism and more of the gravelly, demonic snarl of dancehall-schooled avengers like Sizzla or Capleton. Nas, meanwhile, is best at tense, tactile details: The feeling of gunpowder burning your nostril hair, the dank smell of piss in the project elevator. In trying to make what basically amounts to a modern-day Bob Marley album, they've both pushed themselves away from their strengths. Nas strays into either the too-general ('I reach 'em like Bono/ So get rid of your self-sorrow') or puzzling paranoia ('If satellites is causing earthquakes, will we survive it?' The production, mostly from Marley and brother Stephen, tends too often toward stifled, Grammy-bait guitar solos and tinkling, expensive R&B sheen.
The track 'My Generation' is all the album's worst impulses put on display, a sickly attempt at gospel with Joss Stone yowling all over the chorus and a truly dogshit Lil Wayne guest verse- all in service of fuzzy, feel-good preachiness. On tracks like this one, the dorm-room philosophizing gets a little thick. But even with all that, the album is still a true collaborative affair, two deeply talented guys with amazing, evocative voices finding common ground and exploring it.
So when it does work, it's serious. 'Nah Mean' puts a nasty mid-90s NY rap beat in service of some ferocious snarling from both principals. 'Land of Promise' is devastating old-school dancehall toughness, not far removed from Marley's own 'Welcome to Jamrock', with Nas finding new cadences for his dusky monotone. 'As We Enter' and 'Patience' respectively sample Mulatu Astatke and Amadou and Mariam, both to great effect. When these guys stop trying to be positive and just vent, they do great things. Nas sounds most like himself in the last minute of 'Strong Will Continue'.
The song is mostly pretty bland, five minutes of sloganeering before Nas suddenly turns ugly, wondering if his ex-wife cheated on him, bringing up Bruce Lee's family curse, raging at nobody in particular, then breaking everything off with haughty style: 'See a nigga disappearing with the baddest honeys in the whole spot, yeeah.' With all the heavy-handed philosophizing all around it, it's pretty thrilling to hear Nas suddenly going all 'Oochie Wally' on us, if only for a second. But then the song ends, and it's back to the preaching.
. Its a match made in heaven
or Zion, depending on your preference.
In one corner is Nasir Jones, aka, who is one of New York Citys most prophetic and poetic MCs to ever step up to a microphone. Then there’s, one of the Marley children, who has established himself as a force within the modern reggae community.
So when you take a fantastic and quick-tongued reggae artist and throw in the mix a political rapper with a rhyme etiquette that cant be matched, you know the results are going to be awesome. Case in point, Nas and Damian Marley’s aptly titled Distant Relatives. This record has been in the process of conception for about two years and is just as politically charged as Nas last protest of a record. While still incorporating the gritty, hip-hop elements we normally associate with the music of Nas and the optimistic summertime jams we hear from Jr. Gong, they create this form of neo-African reggae-hop that will surely be mimicked by artists for the next few years.
Its not quite reggaeton, but its not quite rap either. A horn fanfare ignites the record on As We Enter, while Nas and Marley trade back and forth on the microphone discussing the concept of kicking off a revolution.
This is more a call to arms than it is a call to rally. Both these artists already have an army, and with the right soundtrack, they could easily turn some heads to listen to the wise words they are speaking. After all, they are claiming, Nas and Jr. Gong are going to turn it out. Tribes at War features KNaan, with a catchy synth line and Afro-Cuban drums that sound very jungle-esque. Marley sings out, Each and everyone deserves to earn/Every child deserves to learn, which is really what the record is all about as a whole: getting whats yours through unity.
Nas raps about how various sectors of the black community are always fighting one another, and how all we need to do is bring everybody together peacefully. Leaders features Stephen Marley and is a slow, funky, almost sexual groove. Gong sings for a majority of this soothing tune, as it is more light funk than it is hip-hop, but Nas still brings it back at the end to spit a verse of eloquence which gives shout-outs to all their deceased leaders. Count Your Blessings is an upbeat number with acoustic jams and a mellow chorus from Jr. Dispear is a rally song, making one envision a protest scene taking place in a politically charged film.
In a narrative that describes aspects about Marxist sociology, class struggle, and the oppression we face as a society, this music makes me want to rise up against the government in a way I havent felt since The Battle of Los Angeles. The album only goes back more to the duos roots.
Nah Mean contains some of the most powerful reggae on the album as well as a beat reminiscent of the Illmatic days, as Nas spits verses of fire that would make Dylan run and hide for eternity. I could spit a razor out boy, Nas shouts, and the guy fucking means it. But Damian Marley shreds it on the mic just as much as Nas with his reggae calls to action, Make you feel like youre living in the dream/Nah mean? My Generation shocked me, mainly because it featured a verse from raps newest problem child, Lil Wayne.
Actually, Weezy spits a great verse on this song, as Nas and Jr. Gong discuss that our generation will make the change. Education is real power/I reach them like Bono/so get rid of your sorrow, Nas informs us, while Weezy states, I got a message for God and heavens too crowded. This is how we generate change, bringing the people together through something more important and powerful than a Facebook petition, an email chain, or just signing a piece of paper. When an artistic document gets into the hands of the mainstream, which it will, its only a matter of time before people start actually deciphering the lyrics. Then change can happen.
Obamas campaign slogan was simply Change, and our country is ready for it. With a leader who is mentioned on this album many times as a positive force, and a record that feeds us truth rather than mainstream rap/reggae nonsense about marijuana and balling out, maybe we can finally see some change in our popular culture for the better.