![]() ''Don't call it a comeback,'' chimes Mos Def. ''Ten years ago we made history, they missing us'', raps Kweli. The penultimate History with former Black Star partner Talib Kweli, meanwhile, uses the Dilla beat to good effect, looking back but never lapsing into lazy nostalgia. Lead-off single Life In Marvellous Times sees him trace his days from 5th grade, ''the pre-crack era'', to the present, all to a dramatic electro soundtrack courtesy of Ed Banger associate Mr Flash. This somewhat patchwork approach to audio sourcing, though, hasn't muddied the clarity of Mos Def's narrative. They used to call Mos Def backpack rap, and on The Ecstatic, it's like he's made the term his own, zig-zagging across borders and pulling inspiration from all directions. But then Auditorium shoots back out East again, a Bollywood-tinged production from Madlib that sees Mos sharing the mic with Slick Rick on a track that weaves a tale of post-occupation conflict in Iraq. ![]() Next, Twilite Speedball pulls it back to grey cityscapes, all tight angles in dark alleys, boxed in by horns with Mos reeling off narcotics like a dealer looming from the shadows: ''Bad news and good dope… powder, potions, pills, smoke''. Supermagic erupts on a hacked-up sample of psychedelic Turkish songstress Selda Bagcan, tight rhymes spat over wailing guitar lines. The opening run of tracks certainly sounds like an MC out to cover a lot of ground. Three years later, though, and The Ecstatic catches the former Black Star MC back on top of his game, lining up beats from Madlib, Oh No and J Dilla and tackling them with a new confidence, scope and narrative thrust. In fact, the title of the best track here, the deranged, handclap-powered "Quiet Dog Bite Hard" may as well be Smith's motto, even if he has been much too low key for far, far too long.It's been three years since Mos Def's last album, True Magic, and that wasn't anything to crow about – a tossed-off botch of a record that screamed of contract-filler, suggesting Brooklyn rapper Dante Terrell Smith was enjoying his new life as Hollywood character actor so much that time spent back on the mic felt like time wasted. Spilling over with pride and defiance, The Ecstatic is a reminder of more renegade days, being practically a manifesto from someone who recently declared: "Extended exposure to commercial rap has got to have some kind of negative effect on you" and: "Reckless capitalism kills black people." The orthodox rap album has been sliding towards irrelevance for much of this decade, a victim of its main practitioners' transformation into the new pop aristocracy. He's also performed an even greater feat in extracting what might be the last signs of life from a moribund format. Whether in terms of the sound, an elastic funk-soul hybrid sprinkled with exotic samples, or the subject matter, which takes in Iraq and the ups and downs of foreign travel, Smith is no longer someone who did his best work a decade ago. The Ecstatic recaptures the restlessness of old. Remember Martin Freeman's zany sidekick Ford Prefect in the ropey film version of The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy? That's him. Then there's the exasperating acting career. Frustratingly, he was quickly back under the radar, knocking out half-hearted solo projects that did a disservice to his fearless, multi-faceted solo debut, 1999's Black on Both Sides. He emerged in the late 90s with enormous potential, satisfying both hardcore fans and more sensitive souls who balked at rap's then omnipresent machismo. ![]() In contrast, Smith's more distinct reputation - as a thoughtful contrarian, a politically minded antidote to the superficial - has somehow survived his own apparent indifference to his talent. black in hardcore amazing redhead covered and live soft her year pleasure. Most rappers overstate their talent, they have to - the rules of engagement dictate that careers can be built on force of will, whether there's also a deeper artistry involved (Jay-Z) or merely the sound of ringing cash tills (P Diddy). know ecstatic took teasing latina and fist out. O ne of hip-hop's great anomalies, 35-year-old, Brooklyn-born Dante "Mos Def" Smith is an underachiever in a genre where status remains the chief yardstick.
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