Album Review: Mobb Deep- "The Infamous Mobb Deep"


For some reason, when I heard the early rumblings of a new Mobb Deep album this year, I was hesitant, and I was almost instantly reminded of that quote from High Fidelity, where Jack Black says, “is it, in fact, unfair to criticize a formerly great artist for his latter day crimes?”

I always approach new music by hip-hop artists that really hit their peak right out of the gate (usually twenty years ago) because it usually pales in comparison to their earlier, and well-loved work. You see it with latter day Wu-Tang Clan—both with solo efforts from various clan members, as well as the sorry attempts at additional “group” albums; you can also see it with someone like Nas, who has achieved an incredible career longevity, but can never seem to match the magic that was created with Illmatic.

Mobb Deep truly arrived with their second album, 1995’s The Infamous, and continued their streak with the follow up, Hell on Earth, rounding things out at the end of the 90s with platinum selling Murda Muzik. The Infamous, like many other hip-hop classics of that era, really captures the essence of the period, and has remained timeless. I feel like Mobb Deep not be as well known as known as many of the other more marquee names of the early 90s, East Coast scene, but The Infamous is incredibly gritty and dark—both in its lyrical content, as well as in the claustrophobic and raw beats. The duo—made up of rappers Prodigy and Havoc—were, however, well known enough to end up on Tupac’s shit list, getting name checked posthumously on “Bomb First,” where they are referred to as “Mobb Sleep.”

A bit of a confusing title, The Infamous Mobb Deep marks the duo’s return as a functioning outfit—putting aside whatever personal differences they’ve had recently. It’s a double album, which is also a tad bit confusing. The first disc is a brand new record, recorded last year and into the early parts of this year. The second disc collects unreleased material from the original Infamous sessions, twenty years ago—serving as a bit of an early anniversary celebration to the group’s breakthrough release, which is also apparently on the docket for a reissue soon, because nostalgia.

Pairing a record of all new material with things recorded during a golden age is an interesting, and somewhat risky juxtaposition. It’s a risk because on one hand, you have Prodigy and Havoc in their prime. On the other hand, you have the same two men, both of whom are pushing 40, attempting to find their place in a modern hip-hop landscape, dominated by MCs half their age (sometimes even younger.)

The first half of The Infamous Mobb Deep is, as a whole, surprisingly listenable, which is a bit of a relief. Musically speaking, the beats are still shoot for a dark, though rather contemporary, vibe, but are obviously not as authentically grimy when compared to the production of the original The Infamous. But after many times through, while listenable, it's the kind of album that certainly isn't interactive. Maybe interactive isn't the right word. The original Infamous record puts you right into a world. You're in it with them. You can't help but nod your head along with the classic beats. It requires something of you as a listener, and you hang on every word.

The Infamous Mobb Deep, however, just kind of happens around you. It’s not nearly as captivating. Beats are dropped. Words are formed and spoken at varying cadences. It’s by no means a bad record, but it just unfortunately fails to make that emotional connection—that’s not to say there aren’t some high points: the spaced-out “Timeless,” and side-chick anthem “Low” are both standouts, as well as the laid back vibe on “Legendary,” a track that boasts guest spots from Bun B and Juicy J.


There is, unfortunately, some low points as well—the miscast electric guitar samples on the opening tack, “Taking You Off Here” get things off to an uneven start, and the Notorious B.I.G. sampling “All a Dream” isn’t, like, horrible, and while it stops short of Rick Ross levels of Biggie “corpse humpery,” the recent fetishizing of Christopher Wallace in contemporary hip-hop is a tad perplexing.

The atmosphere of nostalgia hangs heavy on the second disc of The Infamous Mobb Deep. Structured similarly to The Infamous, it contains three flow disrupting skits, and eleven “real” songs, many of which end up being alternate takes or mixes of tracks that you already know and love from the original Infamous album, including an extended version of “Eye for An Eye, featuring impresses guest verses from Ghostface Killah, Raekwon, and Nas.

The second disc is obviously the stronger of the two, and even though these mixes and tracks have sat around someplace gathering dust for two decades, hearing them now is rather reassuring—the beats don’t come off as dated, but rather, they sound timeless. It’s the raw production value, and overall underlying sense of menace found here within the beats that I always want to hear in hip-hop records; it’s often imitated, and rarely is it replicated today with any kind of authenticity.

The Infamous Mobb Deep, as a whole, is not for fair-weather fans. If you’ve followed the career ups and downs of Prodigy and Havoc, and are still here, then you will certainly enjoy the second disc, while still welcoming new material from the duo with open arms. For the casual listener (and I guess I would fall into this category) the old material unearthed on disc two is a welcome addition to your collection, serving as a nice companion piece to an album you probably really like a lot. I hesitate to refer to the first disc of The Infamous Mobb Deep as “inessential,” but it’s the kind of record that is not going to change your life.

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