He’s probably said at some point, but as what exactly the idea behind Tech N9ne’s ‘Collabos’ series is, I don’t know. If you’re asking me, I imagine it’s simply an acceptance, and perhaps a comment, and where his career has journeyed. Tech’s been in the game for years, and still his greatest claims to fame are his slew of guest appearances, dashed all across the board. Frankly, his greatest mainstream exposure likely came with “The Anthem” featuring a whole slew of MC’s, from KRS to Xzibit. The Gates Mixed Plate seems to reflect this, Tech behind the counter, ready to dish out ‘Collabos’.
Somewhere along the line, Tech was chosen as the indie kid’s rapper of choice, perhaps due to his “ironic” presence or his “The Industry is Punks” attitude. Whatever it is, hipsters who don’t know Q-Tip from a swab love drooling over Tech’s lyricism. This time out, though, Tech doesn’t seem to mind the industry at all. If anything, he seems to finally really, really want in. Badly enough to make what is essentially solely a party record. If you’re coming around looking for the Tech from “Pyscho Bitch II,” you’re in the wrong place.
This record is stuffed full of simple songs: the party anthem (and single) “O.G.,” the money-obsessed “F U Pay Me,” and then plain ol’ silly shit like “Pow Pow,” which is about as dumb as it sounds. This isn’t to say it’s entirely disposable, but it’s certainly not likely to stay in your turntable for long. While several past Tech records having real staying power – Absolute Power for quality plain and simple, records such as Everready and Killer for sheer absurd, epic overindulgence. This record on the other hand, opts for an entertaining one run through, like a cheesy action movie you’ll get a kick out of and never watch again.
Tech tries to address this all on “Harvey Dent,” with a potentially Jay-Z sampled, “Want my old shit, buy my old album” serving as the chorus. When discussing this record, Tech has openly stated that those who like his dark music will not like this record and that they should just get hell over it. Fair enough, but sales move vs. honest shift in interest, doesn’t matter, intent doesn’t make the music sound better.
“What’s Next” offers up a chorus which insists on flubbing, “My girly all done up for some S-E-X,” complete with a breathy female voice repeating “S-E-X.” Well, Tech, I already bought your old albums, and I don’t see much reason to pick up this one. The record repeats these boring tendencies, on the next track, “Afterparty,” Tech spits, “hussies comin’ to give up they puss-ies.” No comment, and the song only grows all the more ridiculous. The next song up is “Too Many Girls,” which is in fact a step up, with Tech taking on a more mature perspective on all the fucking (if he hasn’t gotten it across yet, Tech wants you to know, gee, he gets laid a whole lot). Other tracks include another silly party song in the form of “KC Tea,” “Oh You Didn’t Know” which sports fine production but otherwise bores, and a few more subpar cuts. “Far Out” offers up a bit of a highlight, boasting a (comparative to the record’s other material) intense vibe, the beat and Tech are more on the money than most of the record’s material. “Need More Angels with Prayer by Brother K.T.” (aside from bonus tracks) closes the record on a relatively high note, with Tech on his serious game. Still, the song is no “One Good Time,” and while it feels like a breath of fresh air after the frenzied suffocation of this album, it’s not amongst Tech’s best material, dragged down by a tepid chorus.
Especially following the intensity of K.O.D., this record serves as an odd detour in Tech Nine’s career. Perhaps he’s grown so tired of not claiming the fame he feels he’s due, and this is the new Tech, but I can only hope he finds his way back to a more interesting place before All 6’s and 7’s. For all intents and purposes, this is a party record through and through, and maybe that’s what you’re looking for, but it seems to me that this simply isn’t the sort of record Tech’s built for: Tech doing a dance album is comparitive to Weezy doing a hardcore mafioso record or Prodigy trying an abstract joint. It’s as simple as this: there’s some things you’re good at, and some things you’re not, and with Tech spitting lines like “they feel severe slaps from here clear to Iraq (pronounced here ‘Ear-ack’)” it’s apparent where this album falls. The hipsters will love this one; they’ve got something to gripe about.
