“GONE ARE THE DAYS OF rap’s dumb pride in straight-talk misogyny. The use of auto-tune puts everything crooned through it in quotes; the safe preface of “this is real talk” tempers a rap that Ice Cube would’ve dropped without caution. Now, anger toward women is couched in twice-removed contempt. It’s a less “offensive,” but oddly more nefarious form of sexism than the umpteenth rapper bragging about running a train on a chick.
Recent albums from Kanye West protégé 88 Keys (The Death of Adam, on Deconstruction) and West himself (808s and Heartbreak, on Roc-A-Fella) both sound brilliant, but are lyrically problematic. Both guys’ relationship raps are absent of insight and oddly confident in blaming it all on the ladies. They’re best enjoyed with the very same caveat given to gleefully offensive ’90s rap classics of the “Dre Day” era: Ignore the lyrics, dig the beats…”
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