Young Jeezy doesn’t want you to like him. Then again, neither do I. Like the rest of modern era hip-hop, the misogyny, gross materialism and drug references wear thin. Then again, that’s where Jeezy’s charm lies. Like countless others before him, Jeezy uses the untouchable “life of crime” image to keep the middle class kids listening. Tom Wolfe called it “radical chic.”
Entertainment and drug dealing are similar in that they allow an increasingly narrow margin of wealth. Young Jeezy recognizes his place in society. He also recognizes his potential in “Sky’s the Limit.”
“Look up in the sky, and tell me what you see,” Jeezy raps. “The clouds? Ah naw not me. I see opportunity, I’m an opportunist. Ya heard what I said? I’m an opportunist.”
Upward social mobility is a persistent theme of “Thug Motivation 101.” Jeezy exemplifies the qualities of a fine-tuned marketing machine. No wonder Jay-Z took notice of the rising Atlanta star – which Jeezy himself isn’t afraid to mention. “Def Jam, seven figures, we can finish the deal.”
Jeezy brings more than cold cash to the table. He matches southern snarl with an east coast knack for lyricism. “Close shop, then I do my count. Hide the rest of the yams at my Auntie house.”
Jeezy’s unorthodox cadence and humor are his trademarks; he never hesitates to ad lib his own laugh in a track. “So clean, but so grimy. So dirty, but yeah, I’m so shiny.”
Every inch of production sounds like a million bucks. That is, you can hear every dollar that went into it. The Catalogue of “Thug Motivation 101” draws inspiration from the standard array of horror movies (“Get Ya Mind Right”), war drums (“Bang”) or cash counting machines (“Thug Motivation”). Abusive trends in hip-hop production, like 70s soul samples, are used sparingly. A modest Curtis Mayfield sample appears on “Go Crazy,” fun because Jay-Z stops by long enough to drop a verse and tell us about a Crayola named after him, “My favorite hue is Jay-Z blue.”
The finest moments of the album, “And Then What,” and “Trap Star” are marching band inspired bouncers destined to top the charts (given proper promotion, of course). Mr. Collipark, of David Banner fame, serves up “Trap Star” properly, with a serving of colonial bread and a horn arrangement that would make James Brown proud. “And Then What” is a veritable club banger produced by New Orleans’ own Mannie Fresh. You’ll hear those trademark Cash Money snares during Mardi Gras, so go ahead and add this one to your post-Katrina mix-tape.
The album falls short on a couple of tracks where Jeezy’s persona turns paper-thin and crumples on itself. “All the hustlas, they gon’ ride to this,” Jeezy repeats on “Gangsta Music.” His cleverly turned phrases aren’t enough to save him from a tired chorus, and even sloppier lines that will remain unmentionable at a Jesuit University. Still, Jeezy’s worst moments are bearable. I suppose I can stand Akon’s voice for three minutes, but only because Jeezy represents the struggle faithfully, pulling 19 tracks without a single interlude. If you’re looking for a serving to add to your balanced media diet, or just need a fresh lesson in economics, “Thug Motivation 101” is a great place to start.
Cody Gaspard can be reached at [email protected].
