A Review of Jay-Z's Debut Reasonable Doubt

Long before he was an internationally known Grammy Award winning superstar and one of Forbes' top earning entertainers, the man known to the world as Jay-Z was just another aspiring rapper, struggling to make a name for himself. Having been rejected by multiple record labels, he, along with business partners Damon "Dame" Dash and Kareem "Biggs" Burke founded Roc-A-Fella records with their own savings, obtained a distribution deal with Priority Records, and released Jay-Z's debut album, Reasonable Doubt, a firsthand account of the rapper's experiences as a drug dealer.

Perhaps the purest example of the Horatio Alger rags-to-riches theme that dominates his vast catalog, the album is not a chronological accounting; rather the rapper imparts lessons about drug dealing, primarily through a conversational stream of consciousness style that is equal parts anecdote and monologue. For example, D'Evils recounts the apocryphal tale of Jay-Z's kidnapping the lover of a childhood friend turned drug dealing rival; in Can I Live he describes the paranoia that accompanies his illicit lifestyle over a haunting Isaac Hayes sample.

Throughout, he employs a considerable amount of poetic technique, though it is not as striking as some of his contemporaries, such as Nas or Notorious B.I.G. Rather than the former's use of evocative imagery or the latter's use of metaphor, Jay-Z's rhymes are full of double entendre, making them seem simpler than they are. This understatedness fits: after all, Jay-Z the rapper does preach stealth and caution, even as he dreams of showy excess. Even his flashy display of lyrical prowess, 22 Twos in which he recites a verse containing the words two, too, and to 22 times, is a masterstroke of subtlety. Yet he speaks so artfully about his subject that he compels effortlessly. The self-described "hustler" dazzles with wordplay whose true meaning often only becomes apparent on a second or third listen.

And while sparingly-or perhaps cautiously-alluding to his own criminal past, the rapper focuses mainly on the material and spiritual rewards and perils of success. Even on songs that are little more than overt threats to drug dealing rivals (Friend or Foe) or taunts to rival rappers (Cashmere Thoughts), levity and humor abound. Because criminality is thusly subordinated, the album is more accessible. Ambition, vigilance, confidence, style, the perils of greed, and the necessity of caution when dealing with others are universal themes.

Though Jay-Z rhymes of wealth-both already having achieved some measure of it and his relentless desire to attain more, he does not come across as self-centered. There's a fair amount of boasting here, and while hip-hop is, after all, built on braggadocio, it's the frequent injection of second and third person truisms into his monologic verses:

"If every [person] in your clique is rich, your clique is rugged/Nobody will fall because everyone will be each other's crutches."

-Feelin' It

which saves Reasonable Doubt from lapsing into solipsism.

The album, following in the trend of Mafia-styled rap of the time, largely eschews the hardcore and sinister beats emblematic of other albums released during this time, as exemplified by albums such as Raekwon's Only Built 4 Cuban Linx and Nas' It Was Written. Instead, it mostly favors understated beats that employ jazz, soul, and hip-hop samples. Perhaps this is why despite the fact that four records were released as singles with accompanying videos, only two made any impact on the Billboard charts. Those singles, Can't Knock the Hustle, featuring Mary J. Blige, and Ain't No..., featuring Foxy Brown, both traditional three verse songs with hooks, feel ever so slightly out of place on the album. Not to say they aren't catchy. They are. But fewer than half the tracks feature a hook at all, and some of them lack three verses. This is an intimate album: this is Jay-Z earnestly whispering into your ear the secrets to success, regardless of whether those secrets conform to pop standards. None of the album's other records, even the singles, are as catchy or are danceable records, their lyrics too intricate, their rhythms too mellow.

But they are all captivating, from Can't Knock the Hustle, the album's opener to the cathartic closing lament Regrets. The bonus track Can I Live II is a misfire largely because of its title. Linked as it is to a minor masterpiece like the original, and featuring a mediocre verse from Jay-Z protégé Memphis Bleek, it disappoints. The album might have benefitted instead from the inclusion of the original Dead Presidents which features different-some might argue better-verses over the same excellent beat.

Guest stars don't overpower, though they generally deliver impressive verses in their own right. The highlight of the collaborations, the duet between Jay-Z and The Notorious B.I.G., may at first seem one-sided as the latter's huskier voice dominates the track. But what makes the track exciting is the level of skill each brings to the song. Listen to the wordplay. Other lesser known rappers like Jaz-O and Sauce Money match Jay's own lithe complex rhymes, and complement the album well.

The title, Reasonable Doubt, relating to a common legal standard of proof, suggests that this album contains all necessary evidence that Jay-Z is an artist of worthy of your time and money. Beyond that: he is justifying his perspective, his experiences, his life on record, and if not demanding acceptance of his worldview, then offering proof that it is a valid one. Here, he succeeds on both counts.

Buy Jay-Z's debut album here:

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Sources

Birchmeier, Jason, "Jay-Z Biography", Allmusic.

XXL Staff, The Making of Reasonable Doubt, XXL

Forbes staff, The Celebrity 100 # 7 Jay-Z, Forbes