After nine albums of glorious posse cuts and humorous ad-libbing, DJ Khaled is now a modern day mogul. The former Terror Squad DJ and current Snapchat heavyweight/abuser (depending on your personal view) transformed himself from a loud-talking, master of hip-hop mega tracks into a loud-talking, master of hip-hop mega tracks/life coach/success connoisseur/all-out open water Jet Ski rebel with a cause (global enlightenment). He eats the turkey, bacon and egg white breakfast spread that the almighty “they” do not wish for him to have, takes to the treadmill like the United States took to Normandy, and, most importantly, still makes the music that got him this seemingly unbelievable platform in the first place. On his ninth studio album, Major Key, Khaled remains a masterful orchestrator and organizer of talent while still being held back by radio tracks and the need for ad-libbing that’s turned him into a rap-game caricature.
With 14 tracks and a runtime just under 55 minutes, Major Key is a marathon of quintessential Khaled, a mix of radio-destined collaborations, rappers shining and sinking, and bits of wisdom from the key holder himself. On the album’s debut track, the Future- and Jay Z-featured “I Got the Keys,” Khaled instantly offers all three of the punch line ad-libs that have become synonymous with his name (Yes, we get a “We The Best music!” “Another one!” and “Major Key alert!” all before the 30-second mark). After a powerfully energetic Future hook, Jay Z reminds us all why he is a legend and we, simply, are not: “My swag different, that bag different/ My wife Beyonce, I brag different.” Through braggadocios declaration, Jay Z gives Major Key the start that it deserves. It’s an album about success, featuring a whole lot of people who are quite familiar with the word.
Highlights are ample, as is often the case with a Khaled project. The legendary Nas reminds us why he is an undisputed top-five all timer, flawlessly executing his role as America’s greatest street poet on “Nas Album Done.” J. Cole croons a heart wrenching tale of unwavering depression and briefly steals the show on “Jermaine’s Interlude” — “Oh, I had so many days of crying/ Oh, I had so many days of pain/Have you ever been as sad as I am?/ Lord, I ask if anything would change?” On the Bryson Tiller-featured “Ima Be Alright,” Future drops a gritty, pain-filled truth regarding his ex-love, Ciara: “We was best friends until the fall out/ Now I got the lawyers goin’ all out.” New York’s finest, Jadakiss, Fabolous, Busta Rhymes, and Fat Joe, come together for a classic East Coast sound on “Don’t Ever Play Yourself,” where Fat Joe resurrects himself from obscurity: “This is big money talk and you tied to the sideline/ Brian Scalabrine n—– always tryna high five.” Rap needs more Scalabrine references, and Fat Joe is here to fill that void.
Despite all the aforementioned moments of glory, it’s the Big Sean- and Kendrick Lamar-featured “Holy Key” that shines through as the album’s top track. Lacking any sort of “Control” PTSD, Sean hops alongside the ever-intimidating Kendrick and unleashes his most well-rounded verse of the past five years: “Father help us, police doing target practice with real bodies/ Mommas in the streets, crying, standing over a still body/ N—– over stressing, we under investigation/ Every day off to the races, can’t fuck with you if you racist/Beat your ass until you purple, they can’t even tell what your race is.” After a Betty Wright hook, King Kendrick delivers in an expectedly impeccable fashion: “So what you look up to?/ Fame and fortune, bitches, Porsches/ Sources with designer thing/Brand endorsement joining forces with sorcerers signing me/ Law enforcement their forces, tortures us with violent speed/ Fuck your boss’s employment my joy is to see all you bleed.” It’s safe to say Khaled saved the Holy Key for his project’s most godly appearance.
A mix of radio tracks, a Drake dud, and Khaled’s insistence on appearing bring the album’s more underwhelming moments. “Do You Mind,” featuring Nicki Minaj, Rick Ross, Future, Chris Brown, August Alsina, and Jeremih isn’t necessarily bad, but just a generic sound seemingly destined for overplay. Meghan Trainor joins two of rap’s biggest fall offs in Wiz Khalifa and Wale on the wholly forgettable “Forgive Me Father.” Lastly, Drake cruises unoriginally through his solo shot on “For Free,” referencing (or stealing?) past Kendrick and Too Short tracks: “I must have the superpowers/ Last 223 thousand hours/ It’s cause I’m off of CC/And I’m off the Hennessy/ And like your boy from Compton said/ You know this dick ain’t free!” (Well, at least we know Drizzy isn’t self-conscious about all those ghostwriting rumors.) Towards the end of “Ima Be Alright” Khaled feels the need to offer a plan-lacking vision: “They want us broke, so you know what we gonna do? We gonna become billionaires. From now on when you see me, call me Billy.” Sorry Khaled, but unless this is a major key too major for our earthling minds to comprehend, I believe there is much more to becoming a billionaire than simply demanding to be referred to as “Billy.”
So, enjoy Major Key for what it is — just under an hour of Khaled doing exactly what it was that got him to the incredibly achieved point that he’s now at in his career. The album is chock-full of the self-indulgent talk, posse cut rap and top-notch features that Khaled has consistently put forth since his Listennn… the Album debut. Despite moments of annoyance, dullness, and Drizzy coming up short, Khaled’s Major Key comes through as the album that it needed to be.
