It’s been more than 15 years, and the wait for Dr. Dre’s follow-up to The Chronic and 2001 has Axl Rose cracking jokes at this point. The legacy albatross Detox represented to Dre, as he struggled to make a record that lived up to two of the most influential & adored albums of all times, kept the icon within range of a running industry joke – the release was always imminent, just a breath away. But it never appeared.
Inspired by the production of the N.W.A. bipioc Straight Outta Compton (and paired with its release), Dre’s self-described grand finale takes the place of his eternally hyped Detox – which he dismisses with an honest summation: “It just wasn’t good.” He let it go. And in its place, Compton was born.
This is what we’ve been waiting for. It’s clear from every second of the recordings to the promotional framework that Dre’s intent is to wax nostalgia on a tricked future ride, and goddamn does it work in all its complicated bells & whistles.
Wild ambition is met with a familiar soul and astoundingly airtight accomplishment on Andre Young’s most politically aware and ambitious album yet. At the onset, an old TV documentary describes the descent of Dre’s Compton hometown into a murderous “extension of the inner city.” Then we’re off and racing, “Talk About It” pulling an irresistible gravity as Dre contemplates the reality polarities between the dark days now glorified and hearing “Fuck The Police” in the club in 2015.
Just like that, we’re effortlessly back under the good Doctor’s hypnosis. The production is an exhilarating alien world with layers of clever throwback in a new color spectrum, dropping wild new influentials in a hotboxing haze alongside poignant cultural landmarks of now (such as Eric Garner’s ”I can’t breathe, I can’t breathe”). On the throbbing, hi-hat riding “Genocide,” a razor verse from Kendrick prefaces a vocal jazz sedative interlude, completely weird and perfect at once. Dre’s rhyme-spitting abilities have evolved remarkably as well, and it seems there’s been a reversal of influence among his former protégés Eminem and Kendrick Lamar (both cameo here).
From Jill Scott to Ice Cube and COLD 187um, guests from the span of Dre’s entire career make appearances – but it’s the new class of protégés who bring the bent-ear shine. King Mez and Justus, Dre’s two chief cohorts in the album’s architecture, turn in stellar contributions. Asia Bryant’s co-written songs for Jennifer Lopez (“Girl”) and Miley Cyrus (“Hands In The Air”), but takes a lovely spin on the hook for “Just Another Day”. Michigan’s Jon Connor (a.k.a. Jon Kevin Freeman) is a concrete counterpart to the kaleidoscope of stars around him, a seamless confidence shared by another newcomer: Anderson Paak. The latter sets up a Talib-meets-Digable-Planets chill-vibe verse and chorus to highlight the stunning “Animals,” complete with fedora beat, before Dre lays out an incendiary narrative on the state of police aggression.
There’s a misstep, however, and a serious one. Amid a strong “Issues” pairing between Dre and his N.W.A. cohort Ice Cube, a disgusting skit about a woman’s violent murder plays out. It’s unnecessary, gross, and a backhand to the face of ongoing women’s social issues. This is a hard hurdle to overcome on such a cultural centerpiece.
Other highlights:
“One Shot One Kill” is outrageously good, with an aggressive menace from Snoop we haven’t heard since he disappeared into the green-funk haze untold years ago.
After a skittering digital beat & piano framework breaks down, slow-fuck dirty jam “For The Love of Money” features classical guitar, a captivating arrangement and deep psychedelic groove. Jill Scott’s hook is a barbed anchor in the mind, and her pairing with Jon Connor is stupendous.
“Darkside/Gone” is another limelit torch-pass through demonstrable dominance alone: Kendrick is just unstoppable. The kid who was just five years old when Dre’s first album hit has shown with megaphone authority that he’s ready for the crown. A definite highlight.
23 years ago, we were laughing our asses off at the magnificent Eazy-E diss track (and Chronic standout) “Fuck Wit’ Dre Day (And Everybody’s Celebratin’)”. Now we’re reminiscing with love and 40-pouring shout-outs to the narrative that’ll put asses in theater seats after “Talking To My Diary”.
The hook of “Medicine Man” is about to be inescapable from every cloud-haze tinted-window ride in the nation. That’s even before Eminem’s verse, a fitting companion guest to a “go fuck yourself chorus”. But that’s no diminishment; the most devastatingly ferocious flowmaster alive steps up his game like he’s making a final cameo on Dr. Dre’s swan song…. wait. Shit, this is really happening.
The end of an era is upon us. And the brilliance of the goodbye sets a gorgeous new jewel in Dre’s hip hop crown.
Hats off to a veteran champion slugging back to the top with nearly flawless design, and walking the best walk an icon OG ever could: he’s dedicating all profits from Compton to an arts center in the beleaguered town.
Compton tracklist:
1. “Intro”
2. “Talk About It” (feat. King Mez & Justus)
3. “Genocide” (feat. Kendrick Lamar, Marsha Ambrosius & Candice Pillay)
4. “It’s All On Me” (feat. Justus & BJ The Chicago Kid)
5. “All In A Day’s Work” (feat. Anderson .Paak & Marsha Ambrosius)
6. “Darkside/Gone” (feat. King Mez, Marsha Ambrosius & Kendrick Lamar)
7. “Loose Cannons” (feat. Xzibit & COLD 187um)
8. “Issues” (feat. Ice Cube & Anderson .Paak)
9. “Deep Water” (feat. Kendrick Lamar & Justus)
10. Jon Connor, “One Shot One Kill” (feat. Snoop Dogg)
11. The Game, “Just Another Day” (feat. Asia Bryant)
12. “For The Love Of Money” (feat. Jill Scott & Jon Connor)
13. “Satisfiction” (feat. Snoop Dogg, Marsha Ambrosius & King Mez)
14. “Animals” (feat. Anderson .Paak)
15. “Medicine Man” (feat. Eminem, Candice Pillay & Anderson .Paak)
16. “Talking To My Diary”
