Album Review: Griselda - WWCD
Even if the blame for the demise of hip hop supergroups D12 and Slaughterhouse may not lie solely with their signing to Shady Records (the record label founded by Eminem in 1999), recurring doubts concerning the extent to which the label even bothers to promote its artists call into question the wisdom of utilizing them for a record contract. But to be fair, no one ever signed to the label (save perhaps for Marshall Mathers himself) has ever possessed the combination of underground fame and raw talent that the members of the rap group Griselda have in spades. All three members (Westside Gunn, Benny the Butcher, and Conway the Machine) have been incredibly active throughout the decade, and the trio of New York rappers, in addition to constantly appearing on each other's projects, mesh quite well stylistically. Their grimy, hardened lyrics and old-school aesthetic are easy to become enamored with, even if they tends to become stale over the course of any given project. On WWCD, their first full-length collaboration under the Griselda name, the three artists prove to be more than the sum of their parts; even if the result is just as one-note as their solo efforts, the added variety on the mic is a well-needed innovation that does this record many favours.
Even speaking in terms of something as basic as song structure, Griselda's rejection of mainstream writing tenets already helps them stand out from others who attempt to tap into nostalgia for the boom bap era. Their songs routinely lack a chorus in favour of giving each member's verses more time to shine, and the opening track Chef Dreds is condensed into a single, unbroken odyssey of the three rappers trading bars back and forth without a break. Their lyrics tend to cover the same few topics ad nauseam: drug dealing, street violence, and flexing wealth are their preferred muses, and while the repetition in theme becomes a tad excessive by the end of the record, the wordplay and ambience provided by all three rappers helps prevent things from becoming too monotonous, even if the same cannot be said of the beats underscoring their lines. The production on the album, universally provided by the duo of Daringer and Beat Butcha, is essentially the standard '90s boom bap fare the Griselda members are used to; it gets the job done well enough, but the need for a little diversity in the instrumental palette is more than evident by the time the album is over.
The most obvious issue that plagues WWCD, as well as its saving grace in a sense, is that for much of its runtime Benny the Butcher is rapping figurative circles around his two companions. Conway in particular sounds notably uninspired, his plodding, lazy flow on Cruiser Weight Coke immediately put to shame by Benny's breakneck verse: "And I'ma be stackin' and weighin' up soon as I feel this rap shit don't pay enough/Cop nine, sold eight, yeah it's late, but you know me, I'm stayin up". Gunn, on the other hand, does benefit in a sense from sharing the spotlight; the listener is much less likely to get sick of his nasally, high-pitched voice and constant gun ad-libs when they occupy only a third of every track, helping his appreciable talent shine through. To his credit, Gunn gives a impressive performance here, providing a frantic yet suave energy that propels his verses forward with a vigor unmatched by his group members and dominating tracks like the lead single DR. BIRD'S: "All my foreigns red, it make me feel special/Banana peel AK, I'm lookin' real extra/With the top keys, the money green Teslas". Still, when Benny is constantly spitting bars like "I'm 5'8" but 6'11" if I stand on my bricks" and "I was starin' them pots over with terrorist stock brokers/I went from heroin to a Merrill Lynch stock broker", it's hard not to miss his subdued ferocity whenever Gunn or Conway are handed the mic.
In all, the three NYC rappers do have an undeniable chemistry that largely ends up saving this album from the throes of mediocrity, especially since their guests almost uniformly fall short in their contributions. City On the Map starts with Conway delivering one of his grimiest and most capable verses on the entire project ("If we can't get to him, then we gon' cook his mans/For every brick he whip, we throw the cook a gram") before ceding the mic to 50 Cent, who has long since lost any rapping skill he may or may not have ever possessed. His verse takes far too long to get going properly, and even then sounds awkward and stilted compared to Conway's effortless cadence. The mix of rapping and soulful crooning Novel employs on The Old Groove is unique, perhaps, but quickly turns stale and irritating, a problem not helped by how much time he takes up on what is already the album's longest cut. The honor of providing the worst feature, however, is reserved for Slim Shady himself on Bang (Remix); Eminem's staccato flow and appalling bars ruin one of the better beats on the record, an eerie blend of percussion and synths that the members of Griselda fit over perfectly yet which Em's words seems to constantly be fighting against.
Given that Griselda being signed to Shady Records will likely draw the attention of many who have yet to hear the trio's material, WWCD is a more than worthy introduction for new listeners to the extended Griselda canon (even if Benny the Butcher's EP The Plugs I Met from earlier this year is undeniably a more inventive and consistent release). All the old-school charm and lyrical bite of each member's solo projects is present and accounted for, not to mention an appreciable chemistry that helps fill in the cracks between each rapper's talents and lets the whole project condense into an enjoyable, consistent experience. The limitations of their style continue to hold the Griselda members back, however, and the lack of fresh lyrical themes or diverse production is a hindrance they still have yet to surpass. Luckily, listening to WWCD one is able to let these flaws largely fall to the background, and simply enjoy the raw skill of three MCs with a healthy appreciation for hip hop's golden age doing what they do best.
6.5/10
Favourite Tracks: Chef Dreds, Freddie HotSpot, May Store