Rick Ross - Rather You Than Me

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Finally talking it like he walks it, the rapper hits a powerful stride on his ferociously articulate ninth album

You’d be forgiven for thinking that, his best days behind him, chubby, coke-obsessed plastic gangster Ross was finally lost in a celebrity netherworld – flirting with septuagenarian millionaire Martha Stewart (who’s had more jail time than he has) on TV and Twitter; summoning Chris Rock for pointless, prehistoric skits. Instead, here Rozay sounds like the rap boss he’s always claimed to be. Ferociously articulate, he outshines every feature, even Nas and Future. Always more philosophical than his image suggests, he’s convincingly introspective on molasses-soul drifters such as Santorini Greece. The more modish tracks are somehow less inventive than their titles (Trap Trap Trap; She on My Dick), but there’s much southern-stewed, offbeat beauty elsewhere to compensate.

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Ross starts off things with a bang, aided by the soulful touch of Raphael Saadiq on 'Apple of My Eye'. Usually Ross intros are reserved for him talking about his luxurious life and high-profile status, but 'Apple of My Eye' is much more introspective, with Ross rapping about a range of issues close to his breast. It’s a wonder why Ross saves his best rhymes for his albums, but it’s utterly gratifying to witness him flexing the arsenal of his powers on Rather You Than Me. He gets energetic when speaking about one of his favourite subjects on 'Trap Trap Trap'. Ross’s alternating vocal pitches make his animated performance all the more worthwhile. Wale and Young Thug prove a welcome addition, infusing the track with their kinetic bars and well-timed boasts.

Ross gets downright personal with 'Idols Become Rivals', throwing a slew of insults at the ubiquitous rapper/mogul Birdman. Considering Birdman’s clout in the industry, it’s a ballsy move from Ross. He touches on a range of of issues revolving around the leader of Cash Money Records, from ongoing conflicts like Lil Wayne getting his widely anticipated Tha Carter 5 shelved and DJ Khaled not getting fairly compensated for his work with the label. Not only is the feud sensational, but it represents Ross’ growing confidence in his stature as one of Hip Hop’s anointed few. Ross holds nothing back in his tirade against Birdman, but intersperses his critiques with admonitions of respect nonetheless.

Gucci Mane and Ross make an impressive partnership most times, dating back to one of Teflon Don’s greatest moments, 'MC Hammer'. But 'She On My Dick' is a let down, featuring a series of inspired raps but a insufferably repetitive chorus. The song represents a rare departure from the rest of the content on the album, which is engrossing for the most part. The follow-up, 'I Think She Like Me' fares much better, with Ross providing a thrilling rhyme scheme, bouncing from bewitching metaphors and notable one-liners. But one of the highlights on the album is when Nas appears on 'Powers That Be'. Ross and Nas are an unnatural fit, but they definitely spark chemistry when collaborating, such as 'This Thing Is Ours' from the MMG posse album Self Made 2. Ross puts up a noble effort, but Nas outshines him in the contest of bars, making for a sensational record that grows with each listen.

There are a lot of guest spots on the album, and in most cases this causes problems for rappers
especially. But not in this case; the features are well-picked and only add to the overall lustre of the album. Longtime collaborator and label protege Meek Millz joins Ross on 'Lamborghini Doors', and like any track Millz is apart of, the song is distinguished is by a palpable energy. Scrilla is a much less starry name than Millz, but 'Triple Platinum' doesn’t suffer a bit. Ross is vitalised in his performance, and Scrilla, taking advantage of the opportunity gives a memorable performance. Ross touches on his favourite subject matter - women, wealth, drugs, and cars - but his lyrics are above par, rapping with fervour.

One of the best moments on the album is 'Maybach Music V', the fifth iteration of something Ross started since his second album Trilla. Dej Loaf’s silky rhymes are a perfect match for the Buda & Grandz beat. Ross tempers his money talk to rap glowingly about a love interest. The finale of the album, 'Summer Seventeen', is disappointing in that both Rick Ross and Yo Gotti seem to phone in their performances. But overall, Rather You Than Me is another example of Ross’ gift at making albums, even though he litters the radio with corny one liners.

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On Rather You Than Me, the ninth Rick Ross album in just over a decade, the Miami rapper calls himself “so divisive,” but that isn’t true anymore. At some point—probably around 2010’s Teflon Don—Ross became a strange point of consensus. He shrugged off the 50 Cent-led character assassinations; he came out looking like the lone success story from Jay Z’s reign as Def Jam president. (Jeezy blew up in this period, too, but the popular perception was that he was ushered into stardom by T.I.) This decade, even as the rap zeitgeist moves further and further from his aesthetic wheelhouse, he’s been a fixture at radio and on the albums of his famous peers. Rather You Than Me is a smooth, enjoyable attempt to wrestle the spotlight back onto his solo work.

A three-song stretch on the album’s A-side (“Trap Trap Trap” through “She on My Dick”) aside, Rather You Than Me plants itself somewhere off the Atlantic coast, on a yacht with saxophones and fine linens and Michael McDonald. The perplexing and endlessly impressive thing here is that while this style has mostly fallen out of vogue (J.U.S.T.I.C.E. League no longer has multiple singles in the Top 40), it still suits Ross incredibly well. From the grand, contemplative “Scientology” to the velvety “Santorini Greece,” the record frequently sounds more foreign than it really is, like a love letter to the long-ago Obama years. Both of those songs mentioned are produced by Bink!, the Virginia native who matched Just Blaze and Kanye West beat-for-beat on The Blueprint; they fit neatly alongside duets with fellow vets like Nas and Raphael Saadiq. Rather You Than Me is an album that’s comfortable in its middle age.

There are times when Ross seems to strain too hard to recreate “B.M.F. (Blowin’ Money Fast)” “Dead Presidents,” an otherwise very good, if impermanent, collaboration with Future, Yo Gotti, and onetime rival Jeezy, feels frustratingly like a retread. “She on My Dick,” with an assist from Gucci Mane, would be an admirable play for radio if not for its impossible-to-clean-up hook; the Young Thug- and Wale-featuring “Trap Trap Trap” is by far the best of the three, where the template is updated to allow more negative space, in fitting with 2017.

The most newsworthy song on the album is “Idols Become Rivals,” which is introduced by a Wing Stop-hawking Chris Rock and which flips a Camilo Sesto sample the same way the producer T.T. did for The Dynasty’s “Where Have You Been.” (As an aside: shouldn’t Jay and Beanie Sigel’s soul-baring on this beat be sacrosanct?) Ross takes Birdman to task over Cash Money’s notoriously suspect business practices, from his alleged refusal to pay producers their fair share to his treatment of Lil Wayne and the rest of the former Hot Boys. The subplot is that, after Hurricane Katrina decimated New Orleans, Birdman and Wayne moved to Miami (“You came to my city, nigga”). Ross casts himself as a custodian of Dade County—and, implicitly, of hip-hop—and he takes his post seriously.

Tucked toward the end of Rather You Than Me is the fifth installment of Ross’s “Maybach Music” series; unlike previous installments, which were either packed to the gills with guests or at least nabbed a lone A-lister, this one features the Detroit rapper Dej Loaf—an extraordinary talent, but, you know, not Jay Z. On that song, Ross says, “Maybe this my magnum opus,” but that isn’t true. It’s a veteran settling into a comfortable rhythm that will probably ferry him into legacy act waters at some point in the future. For now, it’s a quiet yacht ride.