Ego: So I heard you actually visited your local record store and purchased a couple of CDs the other day. When was the last time that happened?

Id: I know, it’s been forever, right? You thought I was going to sleep soundly knowing that there’s a new Stereolab release that I didn’t own yet?

Ego: But you’re not here to argue over the new Stereolab, are you?

Id: No, I’m going to need more time to digest its kaleidoscopic, bubblegum-pop brilliance.

Ego: Whatever. So GZA’s Pro Tools (2008): afternoon power nap or all-night snoozefest?

Id: Come on, it’s not that bad. It’s not outstanding or anything, but it’s better than what I expected, which, granted, has become the clichéd kneejerk criticism of most Wu output these days. The production is solid for the most part and GZA’s pen hasn’t softened in the slightest.

Ego: Yeah, yeah – can I ask you something that’s been on my mind for, I don’t know, I guess the past few years or so?

Id: Why do homogeneous “indie” artists and songwriters continue to waste their time and resources by mailing me their shit for review?

Ego: No, no, that – well, yeah, of course, but no, what I want to ask is: remember when GZA was hungry?

Id: Say again?

Ego: I’m talking about when dude was hungry – his cool, deliberate flow locking into every beat with deadly precision, dropping the most insanely cryptic similes and gems of wisdom, and whose multilayered lyricism was unrivaled, achieving in eight bars what the other Wu clansmen needed 24 or 32 for?

Id: Say, that’s a novel approach. Let’s compare Pro Tools to Liquid Swords (1995).

Ego: All I’m saying is that it sounds like the guy hasn’t had his morning coffee yet on half of the cuts here. Give him a shot of adrenaline, for Christ’s sake. The blunted, low-key demeanor on “Short Race” and “Paths of Destruction” would work wonders for Masta Killa or Raekwon, but for GZA it sounds like he’d rather be playing chess or something. On “Cinema” he sounds damn near lethargic.

Id: Yeah, but what is he, like 42 years old now? We shouldn’t expect “Protect Ya Neck”-like levels of urgency here. The Grandmasters (2005) record already signaled the shift in focus toward introspective musings, advanced wordplay, and spellbinding narratives. Check the intro of “Groundbreaking”:

I’m in the schoolyard, rhyming with my brother Jamal and Ra-la (sp?),
Vibing to the beat and imagining how far the sound traveled at the turn of the volume.
It would shake the gravel before we heard the loud boom.
It vibrated through the parking lot, shattered a few windshields,
Set of a spark and shocked the local UPS cat, but we didn’t stress that,
He had a slow leak, a front tire almost flat.

In a word: phenomenal. The listener can visualize the setting immediately, imagining the cipher and the casual interaction between the characters, and marvel with GZA on the basic principles of physical acoustics, right on down to the description of a delivery driver’s truck in the distance – to say nothing of the alliteration and various internal rhyme schemes here. GZA hasn’t lost his touch one bit.

“Groundbreaking” – GZA/Genius feat. Justice Kareem 2:33 (Pro Tools, Babygrande 2008)

Ego: Yeah, but at times it feels like the technicality outweighs the emotion. I mean, he’s done the record labels thing, the celebrity names thing, and now he’s moved on to the auto industry (“0% Finance”)? I want battle rhymes and wolf tickets, dammit.

Id: I hear you, and yeah, admittedly “Alphabets” sounds mad corny in principle – to the point where a description of the song is unnecessary – but for those who can simply step back and appreciate The Craft at its essence, it’s astonishing. It makes one wonder where GZA’s head was at when he decided to cede an entire track to some gravel-throated weed carrier named Ka (“Firehouse”).

Ego: He’s not awful, but seriously, save it for the next Sunz of Man album. Let’s talk about the production.

Id: Meh. Hit or miss.

Ego: But again, a lot better than you predicted, I imagine. The Wu satellite producers really stepped up their game here and reserved some of their best material for GZA – Bronze Nazareth, Arabian Knight, and Mathematics all contribute soulful bangers. “Pencil,” by the latter, knocks like nothing else I’ve heard all year, and Black Milk’s “7 Pounds” is a definite highlight. RZA also continues to baffle behind the boards with the futuristic, synth-overdriven “Life Is a Movie.”

Id: Speaking of RZA, what’s up with his verse on “Pencil”?

Ego: It’s arguably the best verse of his entire career!

Id: I know! Well, “Impossible” would be hard to top. But yeah, it’s the perfect blend of that metaphysical drivel that makes sense only to him and straight-up superheroic trash talking. You know, you’re beginning to sound like you actually like the album.

Ego: It’s a grower, for sure, but so was Legend of the Liquid Sword (2002), and I thought Beneath the Surface (1999) was pure garbage up until a couple of years ago.

Id: I feel a deep Wu mood coming over me. What do you say, let’s go download Cappadonna’s The Cappatalize Project (2008) and eat a gallon of ice cream!

Ego: I say let’s not get too carried away here. We’re going to have problems if I catch you in the middle of a Google search for “Ice Water Inc new album”.

“Pencil” – GZA/Genius feat. Masta Killa & RZA 3:58 (Pro Tools, Babygrande 2008)