Like Water For Chocolate

06/27/2000 5:34 PM, Yahoo! Music
Alphonse McCullough

OK, how 'bout a solid rap album that actually depicts a point of view where everybody ain't gettin' killed every few bars/verses? How 'bout an LP from the kind of MC who's verbiage reflects a reality a lil' closer to your own, but still rocks sh-t, serving that musical meal to nourish and nod ya' head to?

The latest offering from the MC Common, Like Water For Chocolate, is that album. That album which sees it all come together for Rashid Lynn, where "MC" stands not just for "mic controller," but "musical creator." The LP which allows him to present the many sides of a man who's gone from "bashful to asshole to international lover...of self" in this here rap game. This kind of honesty is rare but, well...common for Common.

"Time Traveling" opens his latest LP with a mono-mic verbal welcome over a funky Afro Beat laid down by none less than Femi Kuti (son of the late, legendary Fela Kuti). Common blends his easygoing baritone over a swell of horns and African female chanting voices that bob and weave atop omnipresent drums. At once, you feel that this is going to be something different and what follows doesn't disappoint, reflecting personal and physical travels, travails, and triumphs.

At once soulful and street, Like Water... trods different avenues comfortably and confidently. The boastful "Doonit," the callin'-you-out battle barbs of "Heat" and the smoldering "Thelonius," featuring Slum Village, reveal an MC who loves his job but takes it extremely seriously, as further evidenced by the Premier-produced call to arms, "The 6th Sense." There are also old-fashioned booty shakers here that transport you back to one of your parents' '70's parties, like the JB-derived "Cold Blooded," and the pliable pulse of "Funky For You." "The Question" featuring Mos Def sounds just like an existential conversation that might've taken place at that party with a certain female after some good weed and wine.

Representing the push/pull of the dynamic between the sexes are three songs that deal directly with relationships. "The Light" is more an open letter to a love that coulda, woulda, shoulda been than a soliloquy to love. The D'Angelo-laced interpolation of (the Family Stand hit) "Ghetto Heaven" might be the album's emotional center, where Mr. Lynn guides you through the ghettoes of his understanding mind, explaining how--through all the rap and bullshit-that his path and purpose seem more clearer now than ever. And what would a Common LP be without some social commentary? He checks heads with the phenomenal tribute to Assata Shakur, featuring a byte from Assata herself (courtesy of Common's trip to Cuba last year), and the soulful singing of the Goodie Mob's Cee-Lo, recounting Shakur's story and flight to freedom. And on one of the most confirming passages I've ever heard from an elder on record, Common's dad Lonnie Lynn comes through for "Pop's Rap III (All My Children)." There he counts the children he's come to accept and respect as his own through Comm's travels, growth, and collaborations, citing the Roots, Black Star, Erykah Badu, De La Soul, and many more. It's one of the few times I've ever heard a parent sound like he or she really understands what hip-hop is all about, and it's simply beautiful.

Though Comm meant the title to be a play on words, interspersing references to his race and astrological sign, the album retains an almost organic connection to the novel from which its title is taken. Like the culinary creations of the heroine of the novel, Common has cooked up a special treat, which will nourish the needs and please the palate, simultaneously. Pick up this hot plate at a fine sonic establishment near you, now. And peoples, chew your food slowly, for better and complete digestion. This album was reviewed by Alphonse McCullough who gave it a rating of 6 out of 7.