Invincibility is the pot of gold at the end of hip-hop’s proverbial
rainbow, the brass ring every rising MC aspires to seize. Jay-Z has had
it for the better part of a decade: consistent album sales,
unimpeachable crossover appeal, a decent if unspectacular run as
president of Def Jam, marriage to modern R&B’s flyest multimedia
diva and fashion bona fides by way of Rocawear and special-edition
Nikes. Since 2002’s The Blueprint 2, dispatches from Hovito’s
penthouse have scanned as victory-lap variations — affirmations
of his cultural and financial dominance, and the monied musings of a
rap don intent on keeping his legend alive and vital in a marketplace
flooded with mixtape-slinging whippersnappers and biters.
“Thank You” establishes a swank Vegas issuance that harkens back to
2007’s American Gangster both in tone and ad libs before Jay-Z
snaps into an elaborate 9/11 riff that demonstrates why he’s king: “Not
only did they brick, they put a building up as well/They ran a plane
into that building, and when that building fell/Ran to the crash site
with no masks, and inhaled/Toxins deep into they lungs until both of
them was felled.” On “Hate,” Jay and Kanye West trade the mic in
haughty, needle-sharp disgust, while “Off That” finds Hova breathing
new, nimble life into the ahead-of-his-time song with renaissance new
jack Drake. Throughout, Jay sounds relaxed, revitalized, even hungry.
Wide-ranging, forward-thinking beats from his usual stable of top-shelf
producers amplify all the frankly reiterative fun he’s having here.
— Ray Cummings
This article appears in Sep 16-22, 2009.
