2013 Catch-Up: My Name Is My Name Review

         

            How do you write about the same things over and over again without making it sound old? When Pusha-T was recently asked what people could expect from his solo debut, My Name Is My Name, the Clipse rapper was quick to make comparisons with Jay-Z’s Reasonable Doubt, Biggie’s Ready To Die, and Raekwon’s Only Built 4 Cuban Linx. Now let’s think: besides the fact that these men are all lyrical titans, what else do they hold in common? Oh yeah. They sold drugs. They ALL sold drugs. And they ALL spoke about it in their songs. Content wise, Pusha-T has shown time and time again that he is not some sort of one-trick pony, but if Push wants you to leave with anything after listening to him, it’s that he was raised in the drug culture. That is the lens through which he views the rest of his life, especially his music. To many of us, this seems rather upsetting, but for Pusha-T, it is a triumphant outlook, for just as he beat the odds by surviving his dope peddling days, he has also risen victorious in the music industry. On Pusha-T’s My Name Is My Name, there is no differentiating between the two businesses. It’s right in the title (a reference to Marlo Stanfield, the most ruthless narcotics kingpin of all on the Baltimore street drama, The Wire) and on the album cover, a coke white background with a barcode stamped on. This man is going to do everything he can to sell us his product. Time to get our fix.

            Perhaps the most striking thing about the tracklist of My Name Is My Name is what is absent. Gone are the Rick Ross featuring anthem “Millions,” the Jamaican gangster themed “Blocka,” and the Young Money beef track “Exodus 23:1.” While these tracks that were once speculated to be centerpieces of the album are all solid in their own right, Push and chief producer/Pusha-T super-fan Kanye West have shown tremendous restraint in their song selection. In doing so, the two have created an album that precisely follows the classic gangster rap album blueprint.

            Pusha-T comes out swinging on the excellent “King Push,” where he manages to embody the spirit of a prizefighter ready to take the ring. If “King Push” sees the “G.O.O.D Music golden child” deliver a barrage of punches on the speed-bag, the chilling, bass booming “Numbers On The Boards” sees our man throw deliberate bone-crunching blows to the body bag. “Givenchy fittin’ like it’s gym clothes/ We really gymstars, I’m like D-Rose/ No D-League, I’m like this close/ '88 Jordan jumping from the free-throw.” We are watching a professional at peak form. This cutthroat rawness doesn’t end there, as the Pharrell produced “Suicide” sounds like vintage Clipse (“When it comes to shooters my ni**as is trained to go/ And they gettin’ practice on bitches who breaking codes”). Penultimate track “Pain,” featuring Future, conjures up images of fire and brimstone, along with all sorts of demons that have laid dormant in Pusha-T’s soul.

            While the above mentioned songs are sure to be quoted in droves due to Pusha T’s flawless lyrical dexterity, it is the more conceptual songs that propel My Name Is My Name to greatness. “Hold On” sees Pusha-T and Rick Ross extend a hand to fellow hustlers, as they know all too well the struggles that come with both growing up under adversity and suddenly acquiring new fortune. Ross laments, “Chasing my paper, couldn’t fathom my wealth/ Built a school in Ethiopia, should enroll in myself.” Push teams up with the currently infallible Kendrick Lamar on “Nosetalgia,” as each rapper represents a different side of the drug lifestyle, the former as the smooth, confidant pusher man, and the latter as the manic, traumatized family member. “S.N.I.T.C.H," another song produced by Pharrell and the Neptunes, focuses on the cardinal sin of the crime world, as Pusha-T reflects on a former friend turned enemy.

            In the midst of all of this serious subject matter, Pusha-T still manages to have some fun. He lets rap’s court jester, 2 Chainz, scream, “Hot fudge Sunday!  Poor it on ya, hallelujah!” on “Who I Am,” an ode to cockiness. Chris Brown sings the hook on “Sweet Serenade,” a song that will undoubtedly get its fair share of spins in V.I.P lounges across the country. He even manages to successfully smooth talk Kelly Rowland on the incredibly sleek “Let Me Love You.”

            Will My Name Is My Name be seen as a revolutionary album years from now? Probably not. But that’s never been Pusha T’s goal. His interests don’t lie in redefining himself or rap music, but rather in broadening those definitions with added perspective. Pusha-T is a hip-hop conservative, unwilling to compromise the lifestyle he was raised to live by and appreciate. Oddly enough, My Name Is My Name is a complete success not in spite of the fact that it’s exactly what you’d expect from a Pusha-T solo album, but rather it is a complete success BECAUSE it’s exactly what you’d expect from a Pusha-T solo album. You know exactly what you're getting into, but that's okay. This is why King Push continues to be one of the strongest voices in hip-hop, because he without fail provides the freshest take on the same old shit.