Great googaly-moogaly where to start? It”s like watching The Detroit Lions play on a big-screen television with a Steven Seagal movie on the picture-in-a-picture feature, while eating a bowl of Special K with a Tom Jones/Engelbert Humperdinck album playing at full volume. It”s like a grown man being circumcised with no anesthesia shortly after watching Halle Berry”s topless scene in “Swordfish.” It”s like your husband leaving you and your nine children for an airline stewardess because he feels that you are getting a little “chunky around the edges.” It”s like being tied to a chair with your eyelids clamped open, arms tied around your back, butt-naked packed in a mound of snow being forced to watch the last two minutes of the Michigan/Michigan State football over and over.
The “Battlefield Earth” of hip-hop albums, Genesis reads as a blueprint to end one”s otherwise luxurious career. How Busta Rhymes has the unmitigated gall to give his devout fans such a poor record escapes me. While his 1996 magnum opus, The Coming, can be considered one of the few innovative albums in the history of hip-hop, each of his following albums are increasingly lackluster in quality with this his fifth solo turn, he has outdone his own deplorable levels of despicable music making, evidenced in his 2000 atomic bomb Anarchy. Never has this reviewer desired his $15 back so much. Jerry Falwell could squat and take a shit on a CD-R and produce something more aurally pleasing than this filth.
Not even his producers could help revive the listener from this sleep-inducing album. Dr. Dre is supposed to be the big-deal producer for this album, but he must have been hung over when he produced the pitiful “Holla” and the sub-par first single “Break Ya Neck.” Relative unknown Yogi had the nerve to sample a Curtis Mayfield classic and completely botch it. Even superior producers Jay Dee and Diamond D went to the bottom of their bag of beats for Busta. The only halfway decent track that saves the album from total failure and obscurity is “Shut Em Down 2002,” the Pete Rock-produced remake of the original Public Enemy jam even still, P.E. did it better.
Plain and simple, Busta is just boring now. The gimmick has officially worn off. He is an impressive looking man with a wild demeanor that has had a successful MTV-based career thus far. Unfortunately, his lyrical skills are not powerful enough to keep the interest of the vocally stingy audience for too long, and since the quality of production has also deteriorated, then ehh god bless.
Stick a fork in him, he”s done.