Ice Cube Albums (8)
What The Critics Say
Dealing with the good, the bad, and especially the ugly, Raw Footage is an appropriate title for Ice Cube's eighth album. Some kind of subtitle that mentioned the yin and yang of life would have made it perfect because the tracks here are as inclined to paradoxes as the man himself and offer just as few excuses. If you want insight into how a man justifies making family fun movies by day and hardcore rap by night, the only answer offered is that you grow up in this cruel world and you deal any way you know how, something that drives the great "Gangsta Rap Made Me Do It." This key track may not be "fair and balanced," but it's honest and revealing as Cube embraces what he wants from the good -- a literate life that damns those who "read your first book in the penitentiary" -- and the commonly accepted bad as he attacks Oprah and everyone else who has a problem with hardcore rap using the "N" word. The 187 in "Why Me?" could be a metaphor for the attacks from Cube's detractors ("You want to take the life God handed to me/Send it back to him 'cuz you ain't a fan of me") while "Jack in the Box" suggests he's already won the war with "Fool, I'm the greatest/You just the latest/I'm loved by your grandmamma/And your babies." The album's guiding principle, "only thing I expect is self-check," is dropped in "Get Money, Spend Money, No Money," but the great news is that all these standoffish and self-serving rhymes are written with that whipsmart wit and sit on a bed of wonderfully minimal beats from lesser knowns like Young Fokus and Emile. The only time things sound slick are when an Eddie Kendricks sample meets Angie Stone's vocals on "Hood Mentality," or when the so-big-in-2008 Young Jeezy shows up for the disappointing and out of place "I Got My Locs On." The bombastic intro and interludes with Keith David could go too, but otherwise this no-answers, gritty ego trip will satisfy his fans while pushing everyone else away even further. ~ David Jeffries, All Music Guide
What The Critics Say
As Ice Cube's 2006 Laugh Now, Cry Later was landing in stores, all the chatter was about whether or not Cube was back, and whether or not he could recover from a couple of lackluster solo albums that came out years ago. Did his major contribution to Westside Connection's satisfying 2003 album Terrorist Threats slip everybody's mind and do we have to consider that release "slept on"? Laugh Now picks up right where Terrorist Threats left off, and while Cube does a little "this is why I'm important" posturing on the excellent "Child Support," this isn't a forced "I'm back" effort in the least. After a short intro, Cube goes right for the upper classes' throats with "Guns and Drugs," a track that acknowledges that there was a George Bush in office when he began his solo career, there's a George Bush in office as he returns to it, and he doesn't much care for either. Switching gears, the following club track "Smoke Some Weed" gives everyone the finger in a much less socially conscious manner. The track's rain stick and East Indian vocal loops constructed by producer Budda give the album its most riveting beat, the competition supplied by various upstarts and, surprisingly, Lil Jon, who upstages the heralded Scott Storch and his underwhelming contributions. Lil Jon tweaks his usual crunk juice and blends some West into his South for the low-riding "Go to Church" and "You Gotta Lotta That," both with Snoop. Just as satisfying, "Doin' What It 'Pose 2 Do" is a modern banger that's well aware of the 2006 success of folks like Bun B and Z-Ro. It's only when Cube jumps on the "Stop Snitchin'" bandwagon that he sounds the least bit unnatural. He also scores a lyrical triumph with the title track, but unlike his early classics, Laugh Now stumbles occasionally and fails to keep the momentum going through the whole fourth quarter. This is his first effort on his own independent label, so if the album lacks a little final product-minded polish, it trades it for a homegrown feel that's distinctively direct. Strip a couple redundant tracks and you've got that bitter, edgy, and sharp Cube album you hoped for. ~ David Jeffries, All Music Guide
'War & Peace, Vol. 2 (The Peace Disc)'
Release Date 2/29/2000
Tracks 17
Label Priority
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What The Critics Say
The second volume of Ice Cube's War & Peace album finds the multi-talented veteran MC evolving beyond a mere gangsta rap artist. Of course, Ice Cube doesn't admit his maturity, starting the album off with an excellent song titled "Hello" featuring MC Ren and Dr. Dre. The Dre-produced song has the ex-NWA members rapping "I started this gangsta ****/and this is the ************ thanks I get?" and reinstating their thug stance. Besides this opening song, Cube also is heard later on the album rapping to "keep in gangsta," yet for as much as Cube flexes about being hard, he has actually evolved into a wiser, more composed artist than the hate-fueled gangsta found on his early albums. Some of the songs on War & Peace, Vol. 2 such as "Record Company Pimpin'" reflect the deep insight he is easily capable of injecting into his lyrics. Unfortunately, for every contemplative moment on this album, there are also plenty of songs such as "Can You Bounce?" and "Hello" that reduce themselves to simple, lucid attempts at hit singles. These songs -- along with the slightly more thought-out, radio-friendly "Until We Rich" -- are wonderful songs, rich in hooks and full of strong beats, but they don't really fit in with the rest of the album. The fact that Ice Cube churned out two albums of content during his lengthy absence from the rap world in the late '90s makes the two volumes of War & Peace overly eclectic. What made albums such as Straight Outta Compton and AmeriKKKa's Most Wanted such strong albums were consistency; Dr. Dre and the Bomb Squad, respectively, were able to map out an overall musical feel for these albums with their signature styles and unique motifs. Instead of having a fully realized sound such as the aforementioned albums, the revolving door of production on War & Peace that includes Dr. Dre, Puff Daddy, and One Eye for One Eye among others makes this album sound very undeceive in terms of style. Cube's rapping sounds great with plenty of ideas that extend outside of simple gangsta motifs and slick rhymes full of wit; however, the constant changes in the album from hook-laden hits to denser, message-filled songs and from stark, minimal beats to up-tempo dance-rap make this a sometimes brilliant yet ultimately spotty, multi-dimensional album that needs more focus. ~ Jason Birchmeier, All Music Guide
'War & Peace, Vol. 1 (The War Disc)'
Release Date 11/16/1998
Tracks 18
Label Priority
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What The Critics Say
Considering that he hadn't delivered a full-fledged solo album since 1993's disappointing Lethal Injection, maybe it shouldn't have been a surprise that Ice Cube returned hard in 1998 with War & Peace, Vol. 1 (The War Disc), since five years is a long, long time to stay quiet. What was a surprise was how ambitious the album was. The first installment in a proposed double-disc set, The War Disc is a cacophonous, cluttered, impassioned record that nearly qualifies as a return to form. Designed as a hard-hitting record, it certainly takes no prisoners, as it moves from intense street-oriented jams to rap-metal fusions, such as the Korn-blessed "Fuck Dying," with its seething, distorted guitars. It's a head-spinning listen and, at first, it seems to be a forceful comeback. Upon closer inspection, The War Disc falters a bit. Not only does the relentless nature of the music wear a little thin, but Cube spends too much time trying to beat newcomers at their own game. His lyrical skills are still intact, but he spends way too much time boasting, particularly about material possessions, and his attempt to rechristen himself Don Mega, in a Wu-like move, simply seems awkward. Even so, the quality of the music -- and the moments when he pulls it all together, such as "3 Strikes You In" -- sustains War and makes it feel more cohesive than it actually is. The key is purpose -- even if Cube doesn't always say exactly what he wants, he does have something to say. That alone makes War & Peace, with just one album completed, a more successful and rewarding listen than the typical double-disc hip-hop set of the late '90s. ~ Stephen Thomas Erlewine, All Music Guide
What The Critics Say
Following the relentless intensity of his early-'90s albums, particularly his post-Rodney King statement, The Predator (1992), Ice Cube reclined a bit and put his rap career on autopilot beginning with Lethal Injection, the last album he would record for five years. Yes, it's a disappointing album, but it's not terrible by any measure. Even if Ice Cube is a little devoid of substance here relative to his rabble-rousing past, he's still a talented rapper, and he has one of the West Coast's premier producers, QDIII, joining him for almost half the album. Unfortunately, much of what made Ice Cube's early-'90s albums so electric -- his thoughtfulness, wit, hostility, energy, and social consciousness -- is sadly in short supply. For compensation, Ice Cube offers a few standout singles, namely "You Know How We Do It" and "Bop Gun (One Nation)." The former follows the successful template that worked a year earlier with "It Was a Good Day" -- a laid-back G-funk ballad laced with an old-school funk vibe; the latter clocks over 11 minutes, an epic ode to George Clinton's P-Funk legacy. These two songs undoubtedly rank alongside Ice Cube's best work ever. There are a few other songs like "Really Doe" and "Ghetto Bird" that also stand out, but even these songs sound rather lackluster relative to Ice Cube's previous work. He's obviously not interested in making an album as daring and ambitious as The Predator again, and you can't really blame him. After all, Ice Cube had delivered three brilliant albums, and a similarly brilliant EP as well, Kill at Will (1990), in just three years, not to mention his then-burgeoning role as an actor. He deserved a break. But at least he took the time to craft two standout singles that alone make this album worthwhile for fans. ~ Jason Birchmeier, All Music Guide
What The Critics Say
Released in the aftermath of the 1991 L.A. riots, The Predator radiates tension. Ice Cube infuses nearly every song, and certainly every interlude, with the hostile mood of the era. Even the album's most laid-back moment, "It Was a Good Day," emits a quiet sense of violent anxiety. Granted, Ice Cube's previous albums had been far from gentle, but they were filled with a different kind of rage. On both AmeriKKKa's Most Wanted (1990) and Death Certificate (1991), he took aim at society in general: women, whites, Koreans, even his former group members in N.W.A. Here, Ice Cube is more focused. He found a relevant episode to magnify with the riots, and he doesn't hold back, beginning with the absolutely crushing "When Will They Shoot?" The song's wall of stomping sound sets the dire tone of The Predator and is immediately followed by "I'm Scared," one of the many disturbing interludes comprised of news commentary related to the riots. It's only during the aforementioned "It Was a Good Day" that Ice Cube somewhat alleviates this album's smothering tension. It's a truly beautiful moment, a career highlight for sure. However, the next song, "We Had to Tear This Mothafucka Up," eclipses the relief with yet more calamity. By the time you get to the album-concluding "Say Hi to the Bad Guy" and its mockery of policeman, hopelessness prevails. The Predator is a grim album, for sure, more so than anything Ice Cube would ever again record. In fact, the darkness is so pervasive that the wit of previous albums is absolutely gone. Besides the halfhearted wit of "Gangsta's Fairytale, Pt. 2," you won't find any humor here, just tension. Given this, it's not one of Ice Cube's more accessible albums despite boasting a few of his biggest hits. It is his most serious album, though, as well as his last important album of the '90s. ~ Jason Birchmeier, All Music Guide
What The Critics Say
If Ice Cube's debut was a shocking attack that proved the N.W.A legacy would be stronger divided, his sophomore effort was a new kind of superstar pulling off the miraculous, a follow-up that equals its classic predecessor and tops it in some people's books. With a million copies of Death Certificate preordered, Cube was no longer the rock critics' darling. A million people listening was dangerous, especially since he was now slithering his influence into the suburbs. If the black rage didn't get you, the misogyny of "I'm gonna do my thing, with your daughter" probably would. Here, one of rap's greatest storytellers is able to draw hatred in under a minute with the short and direct "Black Korea," an angry protest song concerning Korean grocers that got him dubbed "racist" and "Ice KKKube" by some. The track is an extreme representation of how a much sharper and cutting this album is when compared with his debut, and even though the intro announces the full-length is divided into a "Death Side" and "Life Side," both are equally bleak. With the CD format, the two sides are indistinguishable and run over the listener with fast tales of drug dealing, drive-by shootings, and women who go from "Ms. Thing to Ms. Gonorrhea." This would be numbing if it weren't for the rapper's amazing lyrics, ground-shaking delivery, and insight like when "A Bird in the Hand" deals with the irony of selling crap to buy diapers ("Gotta serve you food that might give you cancer/Cuz my son doesn't take no for answer"). A bit of sweet relief comes with the brightness of the great single "Steady Mobbin'" and with the nostalgia and slow tempo of "Doing Dumb Shit." "True to the Game" ("Ain't that a bitch/They hate to see a young nigga rich") is arguably the quintessential Cube track and if all this weren't enough already, the N.W.A diss "No Vaseline" hangs off the album like a crowd-pleasing, Brick-sampling encore. Although next year's Predator would be a bigger hit, Death Certificate brings to a close the man's trilogy of perfect albums that began with N.W.A's Compton and explodes into a supernova right here. ~ David Jeffries, All Music Guide
'AmeriKKKa's Most Wanted'
Release Date 5/16/1990
Tracks 16
Label Priority
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What The Critics Say
When Ice Cube split from N.W.A after the group's seminal Straight Outta Compton album changed the world forever, expectations were high, too high to ever be met by anyone but the most talented of artists, and at his most inspired. At the time Cube was just that. With AmeriKKKa's Most Wanted the rapper expanded upon Compton, making a more full-bodied album that helped boost the role of the individual in hip-hop. Save the dramatic intro where a mythical Ice Cube is fried in the electric chair, his debut is filled with eye-level views of the inner city that are always vivid, generally frightening, generally personal, and sometimes humorous in the gallows style. Ripping it quickly over a loop from George Clinton's "Atomic Dog," Cube asks the question that would be central to his early career, "Why there more niggas in the pen than in college?," while sticking with the mutual distrust and scare tactics N.W.A used to wipe away any hopes of reconciliation ("They all scared of the Ice Cube/And what I say what I portray and all that/And ain't even seen the gat"). "What I'm kicking to you won't get rotation/Nowhere in the nation" he spits on the classic "Turn Off the Radio," which when coupled with the intoxicating Bomb Squad production and Cube's cocksure delivery that's just below a shout, makes one think he's the only radio the inner city needs. The Bomb Squad's amazing work on the album proves they've been overly associated with Public Enemy, since their ability to adapt to AmeriKKKa's more violent and quick revolution is underappreciated. Their high point is the intense "Endangered Species," a "live by the trigger" song that offers "It's a shame, that niggas die young/But to the light side it don't matter none." This street knowledge venom with ultra fast funk works splendidly throughout the album, with every track hitting home, although the joyless "You Can't Fade Me" has alienated many a listener since kicking a possibly pregnant woman in the stomach is a very hard one to take. Just to be as confusing as the world he lives in, the supposedly misogynistic Cube introduces female protégé Yo-Yo with "It's a Man's World" before exiting with "The Bomb," a perfectly unforgiving and visceral closer. Save a couple Arsenio Hall disses, AmeriKKKa's Most Wanted is a timeless, riveting exercise in anger, honesty, and the sociopolitical possibilities of hip-hop. ~ David Jeffries, All Music Guide
