Album Review: Pusha T- My Name is My Name

“Because it is my name! Because I cannot have another in my life! Because I lie and sign myself to lies! Because I am not worth the dust on the feet of them that hang! How may I live without my name? I have given you my soul; leave me my name!”

-Arthur Miller, The Crucible

The idea of what a “name” means appears throughout the canon of play write Arthur Miller. From the entirety of Death of A Salesman, to The Crucible, and then recycling of “Because it is my name” in Miller’s adaption of An Enemy of The People, to the lesser known A View From The Bridge—wherein “Give me back my name!” is shouted out.

The expression, “My Name is My Name” comes from episode nine of season five of “The Wire.” It’s a piece of dialog spoken by the unlikeable drug kingpin Marlo Stanfield, after he’s been called out in the streets. “My name was on the street?” he asks a member of his crew, bewildered and appalled that anyone would be that audacious.

Within this context, My Name is My Name is the culmination of a decade plus in the industry for rapper Pusha T, an artist who has spent at least the last three years trying to make his own name. Prior to this, it was as part of the coke rap duo Clipse, formed in the mid 90s with his brother Malice.  Clipse have released three albums, have a huge cult following among the Pitchfork set, and were even moderately commercial viable on their first two LPs, but after shuffling around between labels, after deals that fell through, and after continual album release delays, Pusha T began his career’s second act as a solo artist in 2010, aligning himself with Kanye West’s GOOD Music collective, and a stunning guest verse on West’s own “Runaway.”

Seeing the expression “debut solo LP” used to describe My Name is My Name seems like an error—certainly Pusha T has released some other solo material, right? Save for the Fear of God II EP, this is truly the first release solely credited to Pusha T’s name.

(twitter convo with my friend E-Man, who is a hip hop aficionado)

As indicated in my other failed attempts that I’ve made to embrace contemporary hip-hop releases, in a very surprising turn, My Name is My Name, simply stated, is a revelation. Perhaps it’s because of Kanye West’s oversight as executive producer. Perhaps it’s because maybe I just like coke rap. Or maybe, it’s because My Name showcases Pusha T as an incredible talented performer who has toiled away, not exactly in obscurity, but as being labeled as underrated.

Can Pusha be self-aggrandizing at times? Yes of course. This wouldn’t be a hip-hop album if that weren’t the case. Is there the standard hip-hop flossing? Well why wouldn’t there be? “What I sell is a lifestyle,” he touts on “No Regrets.” The thesis statement of My Name comes as the first line of the opening track, “King Push”—

This is my time, this is my hour

This is my pain, this is my name, this is my power

If it’s my reign, then it’s my shower…

Production-wise, “King Push” also sets the stage for things to come—incredibly claustrophobic and tense, musically speaking My Name is My Name features some astonishing beats. “King Push” itself, wrongly credited at first to actor Joaquin Phoenix (what?), the beat apparently is actually courtesy of the son of Metallica drummer Lars Ulrich. “I rap ni**a about trap ni**as,” Pusha simply states in the refrain of the song—and as the snares fire off behind him, this IS trap music. I feel like it’s also worth noting that the pitch shifted vocal snippets that come and go throughout seem very similar to what’s heard at the end of Kanye West’s “New Slaves.” Whether this is just a wink to West’s sonic palate, or if West was like, “Hey Push, just rap over these drums and then I’ll play my own samples in the background here,” remains to unclear

One of My name’s more recent singles, “Numbers on The Board,” includes some of the album’s most jarring production—the erratic sequencing of percussion samples creates a strange listening experience—both fun and unnerving. It’s also one of the moments on the album where Pusha can show off just how clever of a lyricist he can be—“CB4 when you rhyme, Simple Simon, Come and meet the pieman,” referencing phony rappers and drug dealing all in quick breath.

Individually, the twelve tracks are like a “who’s who” of marquee name, buzz-worthy producers—The-Dream, Pharrell Williams and The Neptunes, Hudson Mohawke, Swizz Beats. It sounds like this record cost a small fortune to make. But I mean honestly, Pusha’s probably got some coke money someplace that could pay the bill. Even though every song has a unique sound, because of Kanye West’s final sign-off on each track, there is an underlying cohesion from song to song.

(alternate cover for the album. totally not terrifying, you guys.)

My Name is My Name is an incredibly dark record. Pusha’s flow is menacing, and even when a track is slightly less oppressive sounding—like the incredibly triumphant strains of “Hold On,” or the…well…dreamy multi-tracked vocals and synths courtesy of The-Dream on “40 Acres”

My Name is unrelenting. There are really no “weak” moments on the album, but there are blocks of the album that are exponentially stronger than others—the first five tracks are just ridiculous in their combinations of imaginative beats and compelling lyrics.  Towards the end of the record, that trend continues with the triple shot of “Who I Am,” “Nostealgia,” and “Pain.”  “S.N.I.T.C.H,” is not the best choice for a closing track—production-wise it is a call back to the early days of Clipse (thanks to Pharrell Williams and his Neptunes cohort Chad Hugo.) Lyrically it tells a tale inspired by actual events of a friend calling Pusha from jail, telling him they’d never talk again, as this friend decided to become a C.I. The acronym S.N.I.T.C.H, aptly standing for—“Sorry ni**a, I’m tryna come home.”

A huge problem I’ve had with contemporary rap records this year is that I just don’t care about anything they have to say. Like why should I care about how hard it is for Drake to be rich and famous? There are a few good punch lines, sure, and a clever lyric here or there, but overall, there’s nothing that grabs your attention and keeps it until the end.

In sharp contrast to all of that, Pusha commands attentiveness from the very first track. It’s a smart, thought provoking album, with lyrics that are incredibly clever and references that work on multiple levels—one standout comes on the track “Pain:”

Push, my name is my name
In the kitchen with a cape on, apron
Tre-eight on, coulda been Trayvon
But instead I chose Avon
Powder face like a geisha…

Rap Genius will kindly break this down for you, but the double meaning on Avon heading right into the line about a geisha’s white-faced make up is staggeringly original.

Making a generalization about myself, I usually look for music and listen to that I can identify with on a realistic or personal level—which is why I love How to Dress Well and The National so very much. I’m going to guess that my life and the life of Pusha T are nothing alike—except that he has an adorable dog that he’s always taking pictures of and putting on Instagram, and I’m always chasing my companion rabbits around with the camera. So there’s that. But I was never a drug dealer, nor am I an excellent rapper.

My Name is My Name, like a book that you cannot put down, is captivating from start to finish. It’s a complex album; once you open yourself up to it, it doesn’t let go.

My Name is My Name is out Tuesday October 8th via GOOD Music.