Coolio
It Takes a Thief

The passing of Artis Leon Ivey Jr., better known to many as Coolio, deeply affected those listeners who nostalgically remember the golden age of the hip-hop genre, a period marked by the release of memorable albums that have now become classics, reference points for anyone who, in subsequent decades, wanted to try their hand at samplers, rhymes, and microphones (although, listening to some of today's garbage, I would be tempted to say the opposite).

After reading the news, I sadly thought that many rappers of that era are no longer with us, almost as if a part of that talented generation had been swept away by the wind. Tupac, The Notorious B.I.G., Big L are just some of the figures who've ascended to higher realms, undisputed protagonists of a season that ended not only with gunshots but also due to the involvement of the major record labels. The latter have changed the character of hip-hop in the name of commercialization, which, if it allowed the genre to spread overseas, has nevertheless distorted certain fundamental characteristics, like its toughness, concreteness, and the ability to tell the reality of street life.

Coolio did not die as a “hustler” from the Bronx or Compton, a city in Los Angeles County known for giving birth to historic bands like the N.W.A., a Californian supergroup formed, among others, by Ice Cube, Dr. Dre, and the late Eazy-E (for a change...). The fifty-nine-year-old rapper was found by a friend unconscious in the bathtub of his home. Paramedics tried to revive him without success and, reluctantly, had to certify his passing.

We are not faced with a heroic death, occurring on the battlefield, but with a silent, solitary escape, in my opinion, similar to that of other stars of the musical firmament (just think of Michael Jackson, Prince, or George Michael). An exit perhaps caused by abuse, depression, and the memory of an ephemeral success, culminating with the triumph of the famous “Gangsta’s Paradise”, centered on a sample of “Pastime Paradise” by Stevie Wonder and able to earn the Los Angeles artist a Grammy for Best Rap Performance (the victory dates back to 1996).

This melancholic end, far from the gossip columns, greatly contrasts with the lightness and (self-)irony that distinguished Coolio in the crowded panorama of the American West Coast. His debut It Takes a Thief, released in 1994 by Tommy Boy Records, indeed stands out from the dark and threatening tones of gangsta rap (or at least partly), adding a good dose of lightheartedness to the mix, combined with excellent storytelling skills and ease of listening that will be appreciated by those who find it difficult to absorb this kind of sound.

Driven by the single “Fantastic Voyage”, a perfect example of more sunny and radio-friendly g-funk, the album is based on a particularly successful fusion between essential beats rich in samples drawn directly from the Seventies and Coolio's smooth rap, who, while not being the best MC on the face of the earth, is known for his deep voice, decent sense of humor, and inclination to tell stories, small fragments of lived life that will entertain and make us reflect.

These qualities fully manifest in “Mama I’m in Love with a Gangsta”, built on a soft vibraphone stolen from “Mystic Voyage” by Roy Ayers and focused on the difficulties of maintaining a relationship between a young lady and a “thug”, a rascal from the ghetto who, despite being in jail, she continues to love (emblematic is the chorus entrusted to LeShaun: “Mama, I’m in love wit a gangsta and I know he’s a killer/But I love dat nigga”).

Distinct for its visionariness is “Ghetto Cartoon”, a surreal tale where cartoon characters become protagonists of a war between rival gangs (don't be surprised if you come across rhymes like: “Bugs Bunny had the props on the Eastside spots/Known to hit a fly from a mile with a Glock”, it’s all part of the game, which as often happens ends up easily blending with reality).

The unique aspect of It Takes a Thief, however, is the presence of tracks closer to East sounds than those typical of the other coast of the United States. I am referring to “Hand on My Nutsac”, seasoned with that mix of swagger and self-celebration that will make “rapmaniacz” happy (“Motherfuckers curse me but they can’t hurt me/When I’m doin dirt, that’s why I show no mercy”) or “Smokin’ Stix”, whose strength is undoubtedly the production, a beat oozing funk and soul to be included in the soundtrack of an intense breakdance battle.

As in any respectable hip-hop record, the classic “back in the days” moments are not lacking. The first is found in “Can-O-Corn”, a disenchanted memory of our youth, consisting of meals eaten not exactly in Michelin-starred restaurants and affiliations with L.A. gangs (“Back in the days when I was a young buck/Stuck like a truck gettin' shit outta luck/Times was rough and I didn't have a plan/I was barely on the edge of my life as a man”), while in the concluding “I Remember” a sense of melancholy for the carefree nature of those days spent fooling around with lifelong friends prevails (“People used to speak even if they didn't know ya/We fought in the streets like little black soldiers/Shake hands, and still be friends when it was over”).

A final note is deserved by the featuring artists, fortunately few and especially well-selected (the raggamuffin of WC in “U know Hoo!”, the rhymes of J Ro from the Alkaholiks in the already mentioned “I Remember” and some excellent vocals here and there).

Other things could be mentioned, for example, the very incorrect “Ugly Bitches”, in which Coolio illustrates a benefit of the coveted wealth, that is the possibility of carnally joining beautiful ladies (“When I was young I used to have fun/Fuckin with ugly bitches/But now that I’m grown I leave ’em alone/'Cause I went from rags to riches”), but I believe that the words spent so far offer a fairly rich picture and may suffice.

In conclusion, It Takes a Thief is a successful and absolutely enjoyable album, even if inferior to the more celebrated works of that fiery 1994 (Illmatic by Nas, The Main Ingredient by Pete Rock & CL Smooth, Hard to Earn by Gang Starr and the list goes on). Dusting it off can be a way to honor the memory of Coolio, an artist with a not-deluxe career and not particularly brilliant results, but who deserves a special place in the “hall of fame” of hip-hop of those years.

Oh, I almost forgot: rest in peace, friend.