3 stars (out of 4)Rhymefest (born Che Smith 32 years ago in Chicago) was already something of a star before he made an album. He bested Eminem in a national battle-rhyme competition in 1997, cowrote Kanye West’s Grammy-winning 2004 hit “Jesus Walks” and was signed by U.K. producer Mark Ronson to a major-label deal. When Rhymefest’s 2006 full-length debut,
“Blue Collar,” appeared on Clive Davis’ J label, West-like stardom seemed within reach. But “Blue Collar” stiffed commercially, in part because it couldn’t be easily pigeonholed. It presented Rhymefest as astute social critic, style-hopping visionary and street hustler, topped by a self-deprecating sense of humor.
Rhymefest spent the last several years extricating himself from his deal, releasing free mix tapes (including a fascinating take on Michael Jackson, “Man in the Mirror,” more than a year before the singer’s death) and refining the follow-up, “El Che.” The album has been through several incarnations, including one that reportedly included contributions from Lil’ Jon, Jadakiss and West, among others. But in the end, Rhymfest decided to trim out most of the high-profile cameos and the high-budget producers. Instead, he presents another diverse album that feels leaner and hits harder than the debut, but is no less complex.
"El Che" (dNBe Entertainment) is connected by short skits in which the MC plays hip-hop’s answer to Marxist revolutionary Che Guevara, part for dramatic effect, part for comic relief. It’s never entirely clear when he’s putting us on or when he’s putting out, which is a part of Rhymefest’s appeal. He can approximate a baritone boom-rap oracle like KRS-One in one song (“Talk My …), and in the next turn himself into a sex-crazed mischief-maker with a stutter and a lisp (“Chocolates”). One minute he’s attacking the commercialization of faith in “Prosperity,” then he’s woozily recounting a massive bender in “Last Night.” He attacks his foes with relish, but directs some of the funniest putdowns at himself.
Not everything clicks. For a supposedly high-minded thinker, he sometimes comes off as homophobic and misogynistic. The production feels refreshingly raw, but the pop sweetening – mostly in the R&B-style; choruses and backing vocal tracks – is distracting. Still, this intriguing hodgepodge affirms Rhymefest as a hip-hop eccentric who dreams big. He’s got the talent to be a mainstream star, but only if it’s on his idiosyncratic terms.
greg@gregkot.com