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Rating: Russell Jones, known as Ol’ Dirty Bastard, the most absurd and controversial member (and co-founder along with his cousins RZA & GZA) of the Wu-Tang Clan, died on November 13, 2004, at the age of 35, due to an overdose. It’s the fifth anniversary of that sad event, and the risk of overemphasizing or being theatrical is high. It would be all too predictable to insert pathetic clichés like "now the old bastard must be driving them crazy up there" or "Satan has found his match." Bah, in this case, one must be nothing more than direct, just like ODB's steaming mess, no room for philosophical musings, just total ignorance and indifference: sex, chicks, alcohol… alcohol, chicks, sex... and more chicks, sex, alcohol… to hell with all the bullshit about the ghetto, the American dream, the fuck-the-police-respect-bro. Let’s leave those to the clowns of the West Coast. Russel never gave a damn about anything, and he surely didn’t hide it. One For The Money, Two For The Cazzeggio.
Known more for his countless legal issues (the arrests are too many to count) than for his rhymes, more at ease in cells and courthouses than on stages and in recording studios, this is essentially the unstable ODB (or BZA if you prefer) the man. Take him as you want, but this character simply crapped out an absurd style: a unique jerk , a genius and innovator without even trying between one bottle and another. Sure, we've already had the likes of Sticky Fingaz, KRS-One, Tash, Busta, Redman and company, rappers with a decidedly unconventional style, but he driven by his utterly rough voice went way beyond: drunken singing, chuckling, crying, gargling, burping, reverse sounds, coughing, orgasms, nonsensical ramblings, frequent switches between singing (obviously delirious) and rapping, which together with those bizarre lyrics were the hallmarks of his crazy technique. In fact, he is one of the, if not THE, most original rappers in history; equally capable of causing shivers with deep, almost soulful tracks (the fact that he may talk about ejaculations and dog shit is less important), of breaking at jam sessions with heavy stuff worthy of the best Throw Ya Gunz/Sound Of Da Police.
Rza with his sparse and raw beats (“Hippa To Da Hoppa", “Dirty Dancin’”), extremely bass-heavy (“Damage”, “Harlem World”), and discordant (“Don’t U Know”) (never ones to make normal stuff) is perfect for the eccentric cousin's crazy material. Brilliant tracks like the hit "Shimmy Shimmy Ya" (to say the least, the video is unbalanced), and “Baby C’Mon” (great [contra]bass) express it well, and even when he appears on the mic as in the case of “Snakes” the result is always excellent. After all, it's not easy to tailor beats to Dirty, since we’re not talking about a half verse on Wu's records but a whole album! Those who tried afterward (Neptunes, Irv Gotti, etc.) either didn’t have the same results or failed miserably.
The incredible flow of episodes like “The Stomp”, the big single “Brooklyn Zoo” (where Dirty also tries his hand at production), and the presence of various clan members Raekwon and Ghostface (stylish as usual), Masta Killa, GZA, and Method Man are an additional appeal to listen. It must also be said that I don’t know how much someone savvy in the genre can withstand 60 minutes of stuff like the absurd “Goin’ Down” or “Drunk Game”, since "Return To The 36 Chambers" taken purely musically is a record not to be taken too seriously, but in the end remains fun and still very valid. And it doesn’t matter if the stuff he produced afterward is almost unlistenable or if he collaborated with some of the most commercial artists in the stars and stripes music biz (a few names Mariah Carey, Kelis, Mya), there remains only respect for this man. Immense.
Rest In Peace ODB!
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