It's always a big party in the Wyclef camp, with cookouts, dancing, and friends both old and new all being an integral part of the moments of backyard rejoicing. The Preacher's Son - the Clef's debut on J Records and his fourth album overall - is no exception, offering another helping of his the-more-the-merrier approach to melodic hip-hop.
Not that The Fugees' former one-third is a rap prodigy to be reckoned with. The reality is, rhyming is the one thing he does least on The Preacher's Son, yet another mélange of styles and ideas that feels more like a transitional, yeah-I'm-still-around type of album than a conscientious attempt to warm the soul.
At takeoff, Preacher does dazzle with the old-school throwback of "Industry," a track that authoritatively - if not a bit idealistically - ponders the what-ifs of a utopian hip-hop landscape devoid of beefs and children's games. What could've become the pacesetter for the tone of the album, however, gives way to the first of many invitees of the night, the charming Missy Elliott on "Party To Damascus," a blazin' banger that's rhythmically on-point, but predictably too Missy in its carnal advances. Yes, the cut is effective in setting the dance floor ablaze, despite the party host's inability to regain the spotlight once his hormonal guest takes over.
The syncopated "Three Nights In Rio" (featuring Carlos Santana) is equal parts a literal salsa music fiesta and an emotive tribute to the late Cuban legend Celia Cruz. Just as the six-string virtuoso extracts a familiar squeal or two off his guitar - all of this atop a festive combo of Latin percussion and a spicy horn section - Wyclef talks/complains about the stresses of daily life and his need for a little tropical fun, ingeniously proffering a respectful nod to Celia's own "Guantanamera" (which he covered with the queen herself on his first solo joint) in the track's tag.
Contradicting himself a time or two, the Clef impersonates Prince on "Baby," a track about unconditional love punctuated by his soulful falsetto, and the impressive "Take Me As I Am," which he dedicates to his wife as an apology of sorts for the many times he played her ("I know I did a little cheating / but once I got caught I sent you a thousand roses"). The latter two seem rather gratuitous when juxtaposed by "I Am Your Doctor," a sultry, insular track exulting the curvaceous nature of women, or even the aforementioned "Party To Damascus," which details a semi-funny romantic encounter with Middle Eastern women.
"I Am Your Doctor," in particular, takes advantage of the reggae upsurge of late, with VP Records originals Wayne Wonder and Elephant Man dancehalling their way in and out of the verses. "Celebrate" exploits soul diva Patti LaBelle's still-functional pipes in a song about how urban life used to be before all the self-inflicted hardships of street life became the norm.
Other tracks fail to impress, like the inconsequential soft R&B of "Class Reunion," a song about the different destinies life takes us in; in this one, not even Monica's airy cooing or The Edge's (yeah, that one) almost inaudible playing manage to get this yawn-inducing tune off the ground. Elsewhere, the Marleyesque "Who Gave the Order" is awash in Jamaican overtones and overall can be noble in its criticism of violence, but recycles yet again the topic of 9/11.
At a point where you thought that Clef was just going to limit his lyrical scope to harmless BBQs, trips down nostalgia lane, and his exaggerated phobia of getting sprayed by his detractors (something he alludes to three or four times in the course of the set), he finally gives the project some conscience and clues us in a little bit as to why he chose the name of the album. "In my Father's kingdom there are many mansions / all the rooms are free, there's no tax collection / I can see Biggie, Tupac, Moses and Abraham / Jay's on the one-and-two's jammin' with the Son of Man," he raps-slash-sings in "Next Generation," while in the hook we see a vestige of vulnerability as he confesses his need for God to forgive him, to give him one more chance. Props are due for guest emcee Rah Digga, who later drops an even tighter verse about the sad-but-true ills that mar our nation.
Mr. Jean does not have another Carnival in his hands with The Preacher's Son; neither does he near the levels of eclefticness of albums past. Rather, it perpetuates the myth that PK's do fall and aren't perfect, and ultimately always have a chance at redemption. We don't know for sure where Wyclef stands, or if the man is standing at all, but if The Preacher's Son is any indication, his finest hour is yet to come.
Similar sounding releases
1999K2SBetter Dayz
2004GritsDichotomy B
2000MG! The VisionaryTransparemcee
1989DeliveranceDeliverance
2002RaphiCali Quake
2005The AmbassadorThe Thesis
