“Why time heals all wounds, even those of a struggling rap career”
During an interview late last fall, Budden again demonstrated his readiness to compromise false appearances in the name of keeping it 100.
“For me, it’s been a long, long journey. I’ve met a lot of people, some I’ve pissed off,” he explained. “I’ve been public about some things, I’ve been immature, I’ve been a dickhead, and some people have been those things to me. The title [of the album] just symbolizes being in a real state of happiness. I don’t have any malice toward anyone, no grudges, just being in a real pain-free type of state. I wouldn’t say free of pain, but a different type of pain. It’s like a new Joe Budden.”
For example, in one of his cuts, “My Time,” Joe candidly reflects on the peaks and valleys he’s traveled throughout his roller-coaster of a career. In fact, conceptually, each song on the album represents a different shade of Joe’s inner-spectrum:
Slaugtherhouse’s chief ambassador switches gears on, “She don’t put it down like you” (track 3). Budden rarely, if ever, opts for the “grown and sexy” approach. But who says old dogs can’t learn new tricks? Over a chorus line that melts like butter, Joe gushes over the superior lovemaking ability of one specific girl in comparison to another. Fabolous provides additional insight, followed by Lil Wayne’s bizarrely crude interpretation of the subject—surprise! Tank—not the actual machine but the R&B singer—delivers the hook (and essentially saves the day). Despite underwhelming verses from all but Joe, the song, provided you listen to it with a partner in bed, has legitimate baby-making potential (as if the tile wasn’t enough of a clue). The remix aint’ half bad either (track17). It features Twista, so if nothing else, at least you’ll be occupied with trying to comprehend what he’s saying.
Budden gets lordly in his bombastic ode to sustained wealth, “NBA (Never Broke Again).” Despite predictable basketball references, lewd female objectification and shameless braggadocio (what else is new?), this song is without question a slam dunk (hey, when in Rome). To the tune of resounding bass and triumphant horns, Whiz Khalifa gets the ball rolling (no pun intended) by expounding on what he knows best—counting money and smoking inconceivably large quantities of California bud. Joe also chips in with several lines of uninhibited self-bravado. And not to be outdone, French Montana brings up the rear with a little boasting of his own. The hook pretty much sums up the rest (‘Bitch I’m ballin’, bitch I’m ballin’. Racked up no wallet. Keep a bad bitch on my team. I should join the league). Enough said.
In his 4th track ,“Last Day,” Joe takes your ears and drags them through the filth and grime of the streets in Jersey. His lyrical onslaught is punctuated by a collision of hammering drums, fluttering high-hat combinations and raging outbursts of whimsical, yet ominous measures of synth. Simply put, Joe rhymes angry—very angry. He, in fact, sounds as if hip-hop owes him an apology for being ignored all these years. Juicy J tries his hand at being gangster (to no avail). And Lloyd Banks emerges from obscurity to complete the trifecta.
“No love lost” is a good, hard listen. Enjoy.