When he was losing the respect of his erstwhile fans and neighbours, Dre put it thus: ‘I’ve been taking my time to perfect the beat, but my gloves still don’t fit on my feet.’ From this disconnected 2001 mire, Dre’s decision to refocus his attention on the impoverished inner cities that brought him fame and for- tune is starting to pay dividends. The chasm between contempo- rary rap and the streets from whence it sprang is starting to close, and not before time.
Long gone is the crude, breathy call-to-arms of ‘Fuck tha Police’ - the seminal track on Straight Outta Compton (1988) by his former band NWA (iNdividuals aWare [of their own] sociAl [responsibil- ity]) - in favour of deeper, rich- er, more invigorating urban po- ems such as ‘Come Alive, We’re the Pepsi Generation’ (2011).
‘Hear that hiss, what’s that hiss? Someone’s got a Pepsi, I’m thirsty for a Pepsi, I’m going to spend my money on a Pepsi.’
The maturity and scorch- ing intensity of the simple lines chews and gnaws at the frayed edge of our social blanket in a way some had thought was lost since the seminal Lil’ Wayne album, Gun On Da Bus. The listener feels the ground disap- pear beneath his feet as in the space of those 24 words Dre deconstructs our metaphysical and mor- al norms only to rebuild his new utopian vision of society.
‘Hear that hiss, what’s that hiss?’
The overt reptilian refer- ence immediately paints Dre as an inner city Adam in an inner city Garden of Eden. Yet far from a tranquil, bliss- ful existence, he is overcome with paranoia and tempta- tion. Dre hereby examines the futility of seeking a re- turn to an earlier ideal, inject- ing a gravely futuristic shot into his writhing masterpiece.
‘Someone’s got a Pepsi, I’m thirsty for a Pepsi,’
A slamming rebuke of the toxic influence of materialism in the hip-hop genre! The ladle of salt with which the good doctor sips his promotional bottle of Pepsi in live perfor- mances could scarcely be a firmer nipple twist to rap-scene pretenders Jay-Z and P-Diddy, a tongue-through-cheek af- front to a society where keep- ing up with the Pepsi-drinking- Joneses is the order of the day. With 21st century capitalism cast aside like so many recy- clable bottles, the listener is in the palm of Dre’s hand.
‘I’m going to spend my money on a Pepsi.’
Dre re-identifies with his audience: a disillusioned Pepsi- drinking mass of limitless poten- tial and caffeine-induced enthu- siasm. He endows the listener with the heavy responsibility of making one’s own choices in life, be that the purchase of a re- freshing dark sugary beverage, or the decision to go to College.
The jolting shock with which Dre delivers his message of hope and purpose shows that he has finally grown up and become the stirring icon that many believe he should be. With fresh vigour, and a dewy-eyed optimism, this might just be, nay is, the best rap album ever.