Grant JonesI know it’s bad form to criticise an album for something it’s not, but yo, another year has passed since I got to grumble about the AWOL NYGz album promised to fans nearly two decades ago. We’re talking some of the best DJ Premier production he’s done. The leaks have sounded magical, as if the tiresome formula Premier is increasingly lambasted for (perhaps unfairly) would all be irrelevant if we got to hear it in full. What’s more questionable is the upcoming release of Nas and DJ Premier’s collaboration LP. Given how many times it has been delayed, and how most of the expectation now lies with Premier delivering the goods, I’m starting to doubt if it even exists. Underwhelming records from Raekwon and Slick Rick (that might just be me, mind) have dampened my own anticipation for Mass Appeal’s announced “Legend Has It” albums, but Nas hasn’t let us down with his last six albums. As we all sit here with our thumbs up our asses awaiting this Nas/Primo album – which has been quietly promised since 1999 – Premier has flipped the script on rap fans once again by recording and releasing an EP with everyone’s favourite slick-talking pimp poet, Roc Marciano.
Ten years ago, I would have creamed my kecks at the idea of Roc tearing it up over some Primo, but I’ve cooled on the “Marcberg” lyricist over the years. Much of that is because of his production starting to feel like soundtracks designed to hide behind the strength of his pen – the dreaded drumless loops that feel like Hip-Hop without the “hop”. Some of it has succeeded, and I really enjoyed his collaboration with The Alchemist in 2022, but none of it felt as exciting or gripping as that 2009-2013 period that justified his lofty reputation. The irony of “The Coldest Profession” is that it often sounds like an Alchemist album, rather than a DJ Premier one. Drums have never been the focus of a Premier beat, and he often gets by with identical snares across different instrumentals, but they were part of Premier’s brand of bounce that made you want to slam your neck in glee. Most of the beats on this 7-song EP sound like offcuts from the “Beats That Collected Dust” series he sometimes releases. Good examples of this are “Good to Go” and “Prayer Hands”, which possess the same underdeveloped simplicity of something like M.O.P.’s “Bloody Murdah”, but as you’d expect, Roc Marciano brings a notably more subdued energy.
The scratching of Guru from “Moment of Truth” just reminds me why there’s a vocal minority that isn’t keen on Premier’s recent work, and this song is a good use case. You’ve got down-to-earth lines from Guru and Greg Nice, and a sombre, pained beat largely populated by cold-hearted opulence that feels a bit disconnected:
“This ain’t a Jag, this a Aston Vanquish
As for the jacket that I’m wearin’ it’s Kris Van Assche (nice)
We did the Moncler thing in the past (back then)
The rags get the Mutombo finger wag (uh uh)
It ain’t spring, but I clean the glass with no wingman
This thing here, this shit ain’t Jordan brand or Swingman
I sip Belaire with my pinky in the air
The 40 cal the length of an eagle’s wingspan
I’m never just wingin’ it, I’m a thinkin’ man
Me and Preem we like the town car, we linkin fam
Frequent, this shit slicker than Puerto Rican hair
My sneakers at least a G a pair be aware this ain’t even fair”
Something that doesn’t really get mentioned with Roc Marciano is how his trademark effortless-cool and mastery of the English language can end up at odds with his comically juvenile moments. What do I mean by this? I’m not the only person who has noticed he’s trying to describe genitalia in a slick manner, but it always sticks out as silly and oddly suspect. The type of shit that would make rappers of a certain age respond with a prolonged “Pause…”.
We’ve had his testicles described as hanging like drapes, his penis touted as beautiful. This time, we’re treated to “the hammer’s inside of my woman’s hairy vagina” on the song “Travel Fox”. This is nothing new, of course – remember when he compared the taste of a woman’s clitoris to that of porridge? I’m unclear on what his woman is eating, but that line was so dumb that it became mildly iconic to underground rap fans. Call me old-fashioned, but getting absorbed into some intricately written rhymes is a major reason why I enjoy Roc Marciano’s art, yet he still likes to derail you occasionally with some detail about the state of his pork sword (or in this case, his lady’s taco). It’s minor details, but the detail is Roc’s specialism, and all the effort put into depicting this perfectly groomed, expensively dressed God amongst men is rapidly ruined when his choice of woman has an unkempt set of beef curtains (that tastes like oatmeal). Sex is a vital component of Roc’s pimp persona, but it’s the one area of his rhyme repertoire that often feels misjudged, contrived, and often goofy. The song “Glory Hole” is this side of Roc distilled into a loose metaphor for unprotected sex, but manages to navigate more carefully to avoid undoing itself.
“Execution Style” benefits from a familiar Raekwon line and sounds like it would fit into a regular Roc Marciano album, but it’s marked comedown as the EP closes. Now, the four songs I’ve mentioned so far are okay, but the other three songs threaten to live up to expectations. “Armani Section” flips some classic Lil’ Kim, Slick Rick and Biggie – it’s typical Preem.
Even better is “RocMarkable”, terrible name aside. The aforementioned flirtations with corniness remain present (“still realer/reeler than Ka with a fishing rod”), but the flow is much sharper over the quicker BPM. Just the way he says “Roc Marciano” feels like the old days when Roc was rocking over Pete Rock. “Travel Fox” sounds like it’s channelling the classic “U N Or U Out” era, when Roc was truly rhyming like there was no tomorrow, not so much with the rhyming, but the rugged, more fearsome production. This is that grimy Primo that fits Roc’s eloquent boasts, whereby both artists embrace the darker, nastier part of their talents. The danger and reality of struggle have slowly disappeared with each year Roc has been successful, so it was nice to recapture that side of him (and Preem too).
I’d say that half of this EP is worth listening to, but I can’t see myself revisiting it like other Roc records. If anything, it highlights how one-note his style can feel when put up against a Nas, Royce Da 5’9” or anyone else who has done a record with Primo. Hell, Blaq Poet’s “Tha Blaqprint” was fire, and a superior album to this, which feels maddening to say given Po’s limitations as an emcee by comparison. Freddie Foxxx. Jeru the Damaja. NYGz. “The Coldest Profession” is certainly Roc Marciano and DJ Premier doing their thing, but it turns out that two greats of Hip-Hop combining doesn’t guarantee greatness.
No pressure, Nas.