On his landmark 1993 album Return of the Boom Bap, KRS-One rapped, “Do you ever think about when you outta here?” out of dismay at how fast hip-hop emcees can fall from the top of the charts. Now, at 42, the self-proclaimed “teacha” is a hip-hop elder statesman, struggling to stay relative and preserve pure hip-hop culture in a rap world tainted by commercialism and more unnecessary beef than a Wendy’s triple cheeseburger.
And on his latest record, Adventures In Emceein, KRS-One, which stands for “knowledge reigns supreme over nearly everyone,” raps as he always did: without concern for sales or crossover appeal. The beats may be generic, hooks may be weak, and the flow may be simplified, but his words are hard-hitting, and his voice is bellowing.
The 20-year veteran from the South Bronx is a hip-hop activist who argues for his art form as a cultural movement through the Temple of Hiphop and promotes peace through his Stop the Violence campaign. And though some may think KRS would be bitter in his middle age, his new songs are marked by idealism and a hope that our generation can “overstand” and progress with “knowledge of self.”
Overall, Adventures in Emceein is a fitting testament to KRS’ goal of “edutainment,” a combination of education and entertainment. Whether he is name-dropping historical black figures on “Wachanoabout” or encouraging smart financial decisions on “Money,” class is always in session.
KRS schools our generation on the militant, rebellious hip-hop that echoes messages of the Black Panther Party, Malcolm X and the Nation of Gods and Earths. He sounds bold and hungry for change as he weighs in on social issues on “Today’s Topics,” and he pays homage to U.S. troops fighting an unjust war on “Our Soldiers.”
“What’s the cause, What’s the point, What’s the agenda?” he angrily asks on the latter track. “WMDs? Iraqi freedom? I don’t remember!/ Politics is one thing; lies are another/ People separated from their wives and their mothers.”
KRS also manages to stay provocative and relevant by switching up his flow and criticizing the dumbed-down hip-hop lyrics that are prevalent today.
“Everybody knows hip-hop was better in the ’90s!” he declares on “Better & Better” while proudly sporting his O.G. badge.
But KRS doesn’t just criticize. He also urges listeners to take advantage of the opportunities offered to them and build themselves up on “We Dem Teachas.” (After all, KRS was once homeless, and now he’s a hip-hop scholar.) Over drums fit for militant chanting on “Gro (HipHop Nation),” KRS announces that hip-hop is an international unity and culture and promotes “peace, love, unity and having fun,” the original goals of Afrika Bambaataa, one of the genre’s founding fathers.
Despite these inspirational messages, parts of Adventures in Emceein fall flat. Some tracks, such as “All Right” and “I Got You,” are boring and repetitive. On “Over 30,” KRS sounds like an embarrassing dad, trying too hard to be cool. Lines such as “If you’re over 40, wild out!” delivered over a Southern, snap-your-fingers-style beat may make young listeners cringe.
Some punch lines are also a bit corny. In the ’80s, KRS’ disses destroyed MC Shan’s career, but now lines such as “I flow like a fountain” and “What’s your address?/ 69 Brokeback Mountain,” wouldn’t win him any “Fight Klub” battles.
The album also could use more of KRS’ signature reggae flow to spice it up. On albums such as Return of the Boom Bap, the half-Jamaican emcee had more flavor than many full-time dance-hall artists such as Sean Paul. But on Adventures in Emceein, that side of KRS is never fully displayed.
Years after the start of his career, KRS-One should have nothing left to prove. He made revolutionary music in the late ’80s and early ’90s and was even called the greatest emcee of all time by Nas on “The Real Hip Hop.” And though Adventures in Emceein is no By All Means Necessary, it is still a solid release full of material for Hip Hop 101. KRS just doesn’t have to try so hard next time.
arush@umd.edu
RATING: 3.5 STARS OUT OF 5
