Album Review: Freddie Gibbs, Madlib - Bandana
Even among modern hip-hop's most illustrious names, few artists could claim to possess the raw talent needed to inspire the sheer amount of hype that rapper Freddie Gibbs and producer Madlib generate seemingly without trying. Even more impressive is that, despite Madlib's extensive, unparalleled record of collaborations with some of the best to ever do it (spanning over two decades), much of said hype stems directly from the duo's 2014 album Piñata. A full hour of grimy rapping and intense, soulful beats, that record found both artists at the top of their game and left fans waiting with bated breath for any hint of an eventual sequel. Five years in the making, however, Bandana feels torn between the past and the present, spending much of its runtime trying in vain to live up to the already staggering legacy of Piñata and largely falling flat in its few attempts to strike out into new territory. The experience is still an enjoyable one, but Gibbs and Madlib feel constantly in the shadow of the magic they struggle to replicate.
Where their last record seemed to explode right out the gate with Gibbs' subdued suave, Bandana takes far too long to get going properly. After an extended intro featuring, bizarrely, a Japanese man speaking the most hackneyed abridged English possible, Freestyle Shit has Gibbs frantically trying to keep up with a beat laden with admittedly atmospheric horns stings, and Half Manne Half Cocaine is a blatant attempt to reverse engineer a generic trap banger. As amusing as it is to see Madlib step so far outside his comfort zone, the result is hardly impeccable, and Freddie's brisk flow fails to be compelling enough to pick up the slack. When, halfway through the song, it degenerates into a dissonant, cymbal-heavy mess, even clever lines like "Sit your five dollar ass down before I make change" cannot save what the track has become. The trap-adjacent style appears again on Situations, another example of neither artist playing to their strengths and leaving another regrettable experiment in their wake.
This is still Freddie Gibbs and Madlib, however, and both provide ample aural testimonies as to their legendary status in the hip-hop scene. The sample-heavy Crime Pays and Massage Seats are both immensely entertaining; the former is much more relaxed, utilizing all manner of percussion to create its ambient vibe, while the latter bustles with vocal snippets underneath Gibbs' arrogant bars and back-to-back references. Both tracks are far from the only ones centered on wealth and cocaine dealing, yet somehow it never gets tedious coming from the mouth of such a gritty, emotive rapper. That he is bold enough to open the erratic lead single Flat Tummy Tea with "I beat the pot like Joseph beat Mike and Jermaine/One came out light, one came out dark but they smokin' the same" speaks to his creativity, if nothing else.
Piñata's wide array of features have mostly been condensed into a select few tracks loaded with big names that no doubt generated a great deal of hype, yet as a whole cannot quite live up to their promise. Palmolive does feature one of the grimiest Pusha T verses in recent memory (highlight being the absolutely brutal line "It was snowfall and Reagan gave me the visual/Obama opened his doors knowing I was a criminal"), but Killer Mike being denied a verse and instead relegated to the song's hook is disappointing, as is Gibbs' line laying out his anti-vaccine views. Fortunately, Anderson .Paak is essentially guaranteed to deliver wherever he appears, and both his chorus and verse on Giannis are impeccably smooth, a worthy match for some of Gibbs' most technically proficient rapping on the entire album.
The piano-driven beat of Education would have made a stellar track even without the presence of Yasiin Bey (a.k.a. Mos Def) and Black Thought, but both rap veterans come prepared to deliver, flexing their talents elegantly. The former's familiar drawl croons out endless poetics like "The jail overcrowded, they emptied out the school/See the devil twitchin', ears itchin' from the truth"; the latter opens his equally lyrical verse with "Peace parishioners, onlookers, and listeners/Visitors keepin' the consumption conspicuous". Unfortunately, the track's energy is disrupted at the end of each verse by the utterance of its title punctuated by an extended pause; an unfortunate choice that saps much of the song's replay value. Bookended by the soulful Gat Damn and the restless closer Soul Right, the album does end far better than it began, but the sour taste of its lowest moments linger long after Gibbs signs off on a uplifting yet fitting note: "I can't hold no grudges, my hands is too busy catching blessings".
As a project on its own merits, Bandana provides in spades what its artists are known for best: hard-hitting, witty bars and inventive instrumentals that bring the listener back to the flourishing underground scene that hip-hop emerged from. As a sequel to Piñata, which it inevitably will be viewed as, its offer of a more concise, exploratory experience cannot help but pale in comparison to its predecessor's genius. Still, its highs more than prove that the duo are still capable of delivering at the level expected of them, and the eventual conclusion to their trilogy will no doubt go even further in cementing the two as masters of their craft. For now, however, Freddie Gibbs and Madlib can be reasonably satisfied with what they've accomplished on Bandana, even if most fans will probably end up going back to their first record sooner rather than later.
7.5/10
Favourite Tracks: Crime Pays, Giannis, Cataracts