I’m struggling to recall another ‘07 release that I’ve anticipated more than The Wu’s 8 Diagrams (2007), which drops next Tuesday on Steve Rifkind’s SRC imprint. Much has been written around the internets since the record was leaked last week, and while the album has a handful of defenders, the general consensus seems to be that the group’s latest opus is a bit of a let-down. Granted, it’s doubtful that the record will make my year-end list, but after a dozen listens I would place myself in the former camp, as my first reaction upon hearing it was that it was at the very least better than I expected (or Iron Flag [2001], for that matter). My ultimate prediction? 8 Diagrams has ’sleeper’ record written all over it, one that will experience a sudden resurgence five, ten years from now as a frustrating yet generally solid and forward-looking statement from a group who had no business putting together something of its caliber.

That’s not to say that 8 Diagrams doesn’t suffer from a tremendous lag during its midsection, seemingly endless and mundane samples of dialogue, laughably ridiculous R&B hooks serving as choruses, or a smattering of guest spots from burned-out guitarists to washed-up neo-Soul divas with a documented track record of extinguishing any career trapped in their orbit. But did anyone actually expect 36 Chambers-levels of quality here? In an era where airwaves are dominated by talentless ‘tards like Soulja Boy and Lil’ Wang spitting monosyllabic nonsense over cookie-cutter keyboard beats, we should be thankful that a rejuvenated Meth is able to deliver his best performance on wax in a decade, RZA hasn’t lost his restless desire for experimentation, and sixteen bars from Deck are still capable of sending shivers down one’s spine. I won’t bother with an exhaustive track-by-track autopsy (Travis already did an excellent job beating me to it), but I would like to comment on each selection, since, in true Wu spirit, every one possesses such a unique identity and sound.

“Campfire” opens 8 Diagrams with – surprise! – a bit of film dialogue before the beat drops, a blend of murky chanting, a droning violin, and a thunderous bass drum and hand clap pattern that’s so heavy it’s almost oppressive on the ears. Meth begins, confident and focused, running through a string of clever similes and punchlines that are a welcome respite from the clown-ass antics he’s wallowed in since the turn of the millennium. Ghostface and Cappadonna put in strong contributions as well, but one can’t help but wish for an opener with a little more energy. Thankfully, “Take It Back” picks up the slack a bit, as RZA flips “Nautilus” for the nth time to construct a moody atmosphere of shadows and paranoia, punctuated by chunks of guitar. Rae and Deck devour the beat with relish, the latter seeming to recover from that curious change in vocal timbre that’s been plaguing him for the past year or so. Ghost and U-God constitute the second verse, interspersed with a “we gonna take it back with this” hook by Meth and U-God. So far, no complaints at all.

“Take It Back” – Wu-Tang Clan 4:12 (8 Diagrams, SRC 2007)

“Get Them Out Ya Way Pa” is the first misstep, with bland, uneventful production, an irritating hook, and weak appearances from U-God and a snoozing Masta Killa. “Rushing Elephants” gets the proceedings back on track with an urgent fanfare loop reminiscent of MF Doom’s “Guns N’ Razors” beat for Ghost last year. GZA finally appears, spitting his trademarked darts of complex wordplay and striking visuals before a verse each from RZA and Masta Killa. “Unpredictable” ups the tempo with a militaristic drum break and suspenseful horn bursts. Deck rides the beat gloriously, turning in the performance of the album with a jaw-dropping 28 bars laced with his intricate rhyme schemes and a furious intensity unmatched by any of the other MCs. I have no idea what’s going on during the chorus, but I could hardly care with my head still spinning from the Rebel INS.

“Unpredictable” – Wu-Tang Clan feat. Dexter Wiggles 4:11 (8 Diagrams, SRC 2007)

And just when it seems like the sky is the limit, “The Heart Gently Weeps” storms in and delivers a blow that 8 Diagrams never fully recovers from. I wasn’t amped about this track when it leaked back in October and my feelings about it remain unchanged. I couldn’t care less about the history-making Beatles clearance or the admittedly visceral storytelling from Rae, Meth, and Ghost (who makes his last appearance on the record here); the production on this overlong cut is tepid and saccharine, a sobering display of RZA’s lack of quality control and – let’s not mince words here – taste. Did I mention that Erykah Badu sings the hook? Program “The Heart Gently Weeps” out of the track sequence and listen to the drastic increase in the overall pacing. Jesus, I’m still trying to wrap my head around this one, but what the hell, no one expected the record to be perfect, right?

“Wolves” opens with the recognizable banter of George Clinton, and musically, in terms of creativity, qualifies as one of RZA’s finest contenders. U-God enters first and saunters across the beat, a strange amalgam of flamenco guitar strums, Spaghetti Western whistling, and mariachi trumpets that actually works. “Gun Will Go” settles into a mysterious, low-key mood that’s quashed by a crooning hook from Sunny Valentine; some R&B bullshit was bound to rear its ugly head eventually, I suppose. “Sunlight” follows and is a bit of a head-scratcher, a solo RZA cut that overdoses on his various conspiracy theories and Oriental/Egyptian syntheses before the first minute has passed. “Stick Me for My Riches” is a familiar inclusion that was showcased on that Mathematics pre-release mixtape last month. It’s a passable cut despite the R&B hook by Gerald Alston, though those persistent 32nd-note hi-hats are inescapable.

“Starter” is the obligatory paeon to ruffneck shorties that take no shit and stand by their man, those honeys equally adept in the sack as they are cleaning his guns, etc. It also features the lamest hook on the record, committed again to tape by the aforementioned Mr. Valentine, but RZA salvages the production with a bubbling guitar sample and one of the best kick drum sounds I’ve ever had the pleasure of hearing on a hip hop record. GZA seems entirely disinterested and sleeps through his verse, and though Streetlife and Deck fare better, no one seems to know how to handle the beat, which rivals “Wolves” for uniqueness value. “Windmill” and “Weak Spot” are both Wu-by-numbers, the former sounding like an outtake from Wu-Tang Forever (1997) while the latter’s most distinctive trait is a hook culled from a snippet of kung-fu dialogue. Rae shines on both of these joints, downplaying his veteran status and delivering each line with blue-flamed vigor.

Arriving next is the Ol’ Dirty tribute “Life Changes,” which is sincere in its intentions but becomes utterly maddening upon the realization that the hook repeats twice between each of the seven verses. The logic behind this blunder is perplexing, diminishing the track’s replay value and cheapening what could have been a poignant memorial to one of hip hop’s most enduring personalities. “Tar Pit” follows and isn’t particularly memorable, featuring the Wu B-string MCs (U-God, Streetlife, and Cappa) over a hand clap-heavy beat and rippling guitar chords. Half of the track consists of George Clinton jive-talking and recycling Rudy Ray Moore punchlines, which becomes tiring after the third listen or so. Finally, after nearly seventy minutes, 8 Diagrams concludes with “16th Chamber (ODB Special),” which sounds like a 36 Chambers demo of Meth and Dirty freestyling over a bugged RZA concoction that he would later reprise for a cue on the Ghost Dog (1999) soundtrack. The track’s muffled fidelity and time-capsule character is completely unexpected and out-of-place, disrupting any sense of continuity and raising the obvious question of the meaning behind its inclusion. That being said, “16th Chamber” is enough to bring a tear to one’s eye, a lost gem from the archives that, if anything, serves as a reminder of what made the Wu so mind-blowing at such a pivotal juncture in hip hop history and why their legacy will never be forgotten.