Dr. Dre, former gangsta legend, has abandoned his well-established image, stepping from the hood of old into his plush new corporate office.
Despite his re-assurances that he is "keeping it real," Dre's latest production, "Dr. Dre Presents: The Aftermath," seems to do everything but.
This compilation is a showcase for the artists Dre has signed to his latest company, Aftermath Entertainment, however this hodgepodge of R&B, hard-core, and pop in no way resembles the past works of Dre.
The music featured on is at best mediocre, although the well respected artists on the CD could -- and should -- have done better.
"East Coast/West Coast Killas," the first track on the album, features KRS-1, Nas, RBX, and B-Real, all established and well-respected rap artists.
The talent assembled on this single track could be considered a dream team: as impressive as a rap collaboration could be. Unfortunately what they deliver is repetitive and predictable.
Disappointment in "The Aftermath" stems from this album's departure from the traditional Dre sound, and I fear that he has sold his popularity by attaching his name to this project.
Back in the day, Dre's music was fierce and throbbing, from N.W.A. to his Grammy winning solo album, "The Chronic."
Today, Dre's effort is weak -- this compact disc is far from being as engaging as his past eleven projects.
"I was expecting a hard-core album, something like 'The Chronic'... This CD is watered-down and boring," explains Leda Murcia '00, rabid fan.
Maybe his recent marriage, or boredom with his supposed gangsta life has tamed him. At any rate, the hip-hop guru just dove into the bottomless pool of faceless R&B music acts with "The Aftermath."
"Been There, Done That," Dre's own composition on the disc, perhaps reflects this change in style, as the title suggests.
The liner notes show a photo of Dre enjoying a cigar in his modern office -- his big leather chair carefully positioned so as to show off a wall full of music awards.
Could we accuse Dre of becoming too comfortable with his money and power? At this point in his career, anything with his name on it will be mildly successful -- and he knows it.
Each group or individual on this album was hand-picked by Dre himself, a man famed for producing talent, like Snoop Doggy Dog's quadruple platinum album "Doggystyle."
Why, then, are these artists so unimpressive?
Songs such as Kim Summerson's "Choices," reflect the lack of ingenuity of the individual artists.
Like so many other R&B artists, Summerson whines excessively, her vocal digressions straying dangerously far from the music.
Other artists on the album, such as Maurice Wilcher, Serenade, Whoz Who, and Jheryl Lockhart fail to create anything impressive, making this record seem like an amateur talent show.
While individually unremarkable, this compilation does send a message: the unity of the musical community.
Men and women, R&B and hard-core, old school and new, all collaborate on what is called "the first truly bi-coastal album."
This album is supposed to be blazing a new musical age "in the aftermath of the hip-hop explosion." The future looks bleak.
Dre understands that cover-art and liner notes can often help an album, as the enormous Hemp leaf on his "The Cronic" shows.
"The Aftermath's" liner notes are plentiful, but not interesting. The same fiery mushroom cloud image comprises the sole piece of art on the cover, the CD itself, and the inside panel.
Generic fire scenes cover the rest of the liner-note surfaces, and explosions resonate throughout each song, unifying the music and the packaging.
The liner notes offer biographies, pictures, quotes, and relevant information for each individual or group featured on the disk.
While monotonous, the biographies do help to match voices with faces, a feature not present on Dre's past productions.
Maybe we can not pass too harsh a judgment on this record yet. Dre's new direction still has time to succeed, but one thing is for sure -- he did not "keep it real," as promised.
