Method Man - The Meth Lab

Pitchfork 40

If you've been keeping up with Method Man over the past decade or so, the question isn’t whether he will make embarrassing "Breaking Bad" references on an album called The Meth Lab, it’s how many times will he make a reference, the likely range being "too many" to "far too many." This is how Johnny Blaze does nowadays—after kicking off 8 Diagrams with a promise to "bring the sexy back like Timbaland and Timberlake," he’s followed with countless other, similarly demoralizing punchlines that are at least a year past their spoilage date. Method Man has always been expected to be Wu-Tang Clan's mainstream emissary, and his lyrics mirror their currently tangential relationship with relevancy.

If that doesn’t kill your vibe, look at the tracklisting of The Meth Lab: of the 19 tracks, only three are credited solely to Method Man. One is the intro, another is the outro, and the other is fittingly called "2 Minutes of Your Time". This actually works out quite well for the Method Man brand—if hip-hop has completely passed him by, Method Man can always surround himself with rappers more out of step than himself.

Though it doesn’t advertise as such, The Meth Lab is a throwback to Wu-Tang’s mid-2000s wilderness period where the leading figures tried to establish independent fiefdoms outside of RZA’s view—even if Hanz On, Eazy Get Rite, Mack Wilds, Chedda Bang, Dro Pesci, Kash Verazzano, and Hue Huf aren’t given the dignity of a crew name, The Meth Lab is a posse record in practice, very much in the lineage of Theodore Unit's 718, Polluted Water, or the ultimate in Wu-Tang marginalia, Ugodz-illa Presents the Hillside Scramblers. Pity these dudes if you want—Method Man is still a household name.

Based on their handles alone, you can’t possibly imagine the aforementioned involved with pertinent rap music in 2015. Not that they want to anyway—beyond the likely deathless #hashtag and "no [RAPPER OF INTEREST]" kickers, Meth Lab's foot soldiers have a stylistic cut-off point around the most recent Method Man album, and that came out in 2006. They favor broadly-drawn street journalism and humorless punchlines, less derived from Method Man than the still-down-for-whatever Streetlife, who appears on over 1/3rd of The Meth Lab. The production complements the rapping—you likewise get Wu-Tang’s second tier (4th Disciple, Mathematics behind the boards, Killa Sin and Carlton Fisk on the mic), and the occasional "oh that guy!" from any number of "bring New York back!" waves. The biggest outside appearances come from Corey Gunz and Uncle Murda—both are technically major-label rappers, though it feels like a matter of time before Epic or one of the four imprints currently sharing Gunz fixes the glitch. Likewise, you get a beat from Ron Browz, who no longer refers to himself as Etherboy. Seven tracks are helmed by Pascal Zumaque—the first thing that pops up in a Google search of his name is his LinkedIn page.

Otherwise, you know Meth’s steez—Wu-Tang’s for the children, other rappers need to pull their pants up, hip-hop peaked when you could still hear Method Man songs on the radio. He’s basically turned into Redman now—except when Redman stays making O.J. references in 2015, he’s at least staying in character as hip-hop’s favorite knucklehead uncle. Method Man just sounds like a guy who got set up with a Twitter account and has no initiative to use it, making jokes to himself while watching TV. Sift through the verses for proper names and the likes of Michael Vick, Fat Joe, Lil Mama, and Rappin’ 4-Tay emerge. Yet, here’s the one that I find most fascinating—"I’m here to analyze your shooter like I’m Kenny Smith." Just think about that one for a second—what exactly is Method Man trying to express here? I know what he means, but it also makes no goddamn sense. This is undeniably the result of Method Man’s mind drifting while watching "Inside the NBA" and as far as rapper/actors clowning on the Jet, he now ranks below Shaquille O’Neal.

To Meth’s credit, he hasn’t fallen the fuck off as hard as Inspectah Deck, who shows up on "The Purple Tape", a highlight by default because it also features Raekwon—the one guy left in Wu-Tang Clan who really hasn't fallen off at all. His F.I.L.A. record from earlier this year didn’t leave much of a mark either, but the appearances of Rick Ross, A$AP Rocky, and French Montana didn't feel like desperate grasps at Hot 97 airplay; those guys likely showed up on their own volition, an acknowledgement that Rae’s style has aged well because rapping in code about selling drugs and fly gear has never gone out of style in hip-hop and never will. All you can really do with The Meth Lab is contemplate its reason for existence— if anything, the fact that it's being released on Tommy Boy might get a chuckle out of GZA... provided you can get a chuckle out of GZA. But if you make it to the end, you find out that this is actually a prelude to Method Man’s real solo album. Which will be called Crystal Meth. So really, we’re right back where we started.