The
Slim Shady LP announced not only
Eminem's arrival, but it established that his producer
Dr. Dre was anything but passé, thereby raising expectations for
2001, the long-anticipated sequel to
The Chronic. It suggested that
2001 wouldn't simply be recycled
Chronic, and, musically speaking, that's more or less true. He's pushed himself hard, finding new variations in the formula by adding ominous strings, soulful vocals, and reggae, resulting in fairly interesting recontextualizations. Padded out to 22 tracks,
2001 isn't as consistent or striking as
Slim Shady, but the music is always brimming with character. If only the same could be said about the rappers! Why does a producer as original as
Dre work with such pedestrian rappers? Perhaps it's to ensure his control over the project, or to mask his own shortcomings as an MC, but the album suffers considerably as a result. Out of all the other rappers on
2001, only
Snoop and
Eminem --
Dre's two great protégés -- have character, and while
Eminem's jokiness is still unpredictable,
Snoop sounds nearly as tired as the second-rate rappers. The only difference is, there's pleasure in hearing
Snoop's style, while the rest sound staid. That's the major problem with
2001: lyrically and thematically, it's nothing but gangsta clichés. Scratch that, it's über-gangsta, blown up so large that it feels like a parody. Song after song, there's a never-ending litany of violence, drugs, pussy, bitches, dope, guns, and gangsters. After a full decade of this, it takes real effort to get outraged at this stuff, so chances are, you'll shut out the words and groove along since, sonically, this is first-rate, straight-up gangsta rap. Still, no matter how much fun you may have, it's hard not to shake the feeling that this is cheap, not lasting, fun. [This is the instrumental mix of the album.] ~ Stephen Thomas Erlewine