As hip-hop has become the de facto sound of this current millennium, we should be thankful to those who have made the form more interesting than the formulaic salvo of MTV rappers and their seemingly regretful genius producers who drag us into their banal odes to themselves with arguably the freshest sound to back up otherwise empty boasts. Kill the rapper has never felt more appropriate. Fortunately, moves are being made to remedy this, as "hip-hop" artists like
cLOUDDEAD and
Diplo have pushed further away from the center on highly recommended releases this year. How does
Sharkey fit into all of this? Not as well as one might have hoped. Clearly the Babygrande connection made roping in top-notch spitters like
Jean Grae and
Grand Puba from
Brand Nubian an easy task. Although, one might wonder if they didn't approach these spastic cuts as a test to their ability to flow over anything, regardless of its lack of serious thump. For
Sharkey doesn't seem capable for making a track with any real bounce or pop. Instead, half-finished lessons in sampling diarrhea plague this record. Hip-hop was founded on picking the tightest grooves on old records and repeating them to infinity via two turntables, and later, a single sampler. It's hard too tell if
Sharkey missed this class. Or if his choice source material is just flawed from jump street. One thing is for certain. Featuring your pals
Zooks from your other band to goof-rap like Sean Connery must have only been funny for a moment. Given the weeks or months needed to record and release an album, it's amazing someone didn't speak up and point out when the joke was over.