Ever wonder why rappers like the superhero cliché? Method Man uses Ghost Rider’s alias (Johnny Blaze). David Banner enjoyed success recently, under the alias of The Hulk. MF Doom might as well be a living, breathing cartoon. Kids need a role model, though your standard rapper isn’t a suitable fit.
The drug-dealing profession doesn’t sit well with most of the community. Hell, Iron Man was an alcoholic; not every superhero’s perfect.
What makes a role model? I don’t want Lil’Wayne babysitting my kids, but there’s something to be said about the kind of confidence a great rapper possesses. Reality TV and over-diagnosed personality disorders have sterilized America’s youth. Kids could use a healthy dose of arrogance. A rapper is larger than life. He commands attention by convincing you that he earned it. Like any great artist, a powerful rapper knows how you feel, though he communicates it better than you. A rapper’s enhanced abilities make him a superhero.
Ghostfaces’s voice has a largely visual element. It doesn’t talk. It cries, spits, sweats, screams and crowd dives. His ease of delivery delights and stupefies. Ghostface plays the role of superhero performer both on stage and on tape.
“The Champ” is a portrait of Ghostface as a heavyweight contender. The wide-open guitars and live drums are the spotlights and cheers of the arena. Ghostface woos the crowd to the tune of a fifty-foot sound by producer Just Blaze.
“Be Easy” is just as large. The mythical Pete Rock lends his expertise while Ghost cuts and bangs the track like only he can. You’ll be shouting “tell ya crew to be easy,” for weeks.
Ghostface isn’t satisfied with rocking like Led Zeppelin. Recent collaborations with MF Doom have Ghostface exploring unorthodox hip-hop territories. Ghostface maintains a seamless flow over the hypnotic, frightening beat of “Clipse of Doom.” The track serves as an example of Ghostface’s ability to remain fresh and relevant amongst the copycats and biters of today’s hip hop stars.
“Fishscale” is full of surprises, but the album works best when Ghostface reworks the foundations of previous albums. “Kilo” and “R.A.G.U.” warp to Raekwon’s 1994 release “Only Built 4 Cuban Linx.” The gritty narratives sound sharp and polished compared to classic Wu-Tang albums. Twelve years later, Ghostface and Raekwon are wise elders of the game. They warn of the dangers of the cocaine business rather than rejoicing in the money and power that come so easily. Themes of growth and maturity are pervasive in “Fishscale.”
“Big Girl” brings “Fishscale” full circle. Ghostface reaches an epiphany of sorts, feeling regret and sorrow over the wasted lives of his young groupie chicks hooked on drugs. Ghostface mends the situation by letting the girls go, even offering to pay for their education. “And all I ask in life’s for you to be careful, stay focused, take care ya health, have kids and marry your prince, good luck and happiness,” He says. Ghost exhibits an incomparable transparency of character in “Big Girl.” Realizing the finitude of life on earth, Ghostface actively changes his situation to further value life. “Big Girl” is Ghost’s pinnacle creative achievement.
I’m a fool for Ghostface. “Fischscale” is a no-brainer for me. For all the unbelievers, dig through an old comic book or two and get reacquainted with superhero fandom. If you’re still not convinced, don’t worry. You can find Ghostface under the “classics” section on your child’s iPod in 2026.
Cody Gaspard can be reached at [email protected].
