on repeat: tito santana.
when you think about it, it’s sort of fitting that DC-reppin’ wale was featured and praised in GQ magazine. the man represents the modern black-male equivalent of the mag’s intended audience: an educated, well-dressed (”my jeans hella cost/i got couple knots”) lover of females with an in-depth knowledge of sports and relevant world and social topics. on last year’s stunning mixtape about nothing, wale entered the limelight as the thinking-man’s everyman, recording a conceptual masterpiece of a mixtape(!) that touched on such everyday struggles as race, women, and ichat. pretty much everyone figured out that the mixtape about nothing was about everything except nothing, and wale established his role as a hip-hop artist, which is becoming increasingly rare in major-label hip-hop.
but at the same time, wale could still spit flames over a beat like “roc boys” (which is telling, considering that wale cites jay-z as his mentor) to show you that he’s virtually the most complete and well-rounded MC to come along in years. which brings us to his collaborative mixtape with producer 9th wonder, back to the feature. at the end of “tito santana,” wale does a drop where he explains the nature of the mixtape: this is not meant to be thought-provoking; this is not meant to be an opus of any sort (which, given the pre-release blurbs on attention deficit, his album proper is shaping up to be one). “we just trying to show the broads that niggas be rappin’,” wale quips, “back to the feature, aka niggas just be rappin’.”
no song on back to the feature upholds the “niggas just be rappin’” theme more than “tito santana.” featuring a conversational and workmanlike performance from joe budden and bolstered by 9th wonder’s soul-dripping horn sample, wale goes in with his best verse on the tape, and why he’s the head of his freshman class: he’s the goat like a capricorn. he’s a bitch-pleasing skirt-lifter, young dirk diggler. and his brain travels like yung berg’s jewels. even when he’s simply kicking an ill verse, wale’s fastidious attention to craft is evident in his wordplay, studied references, and rhythmic tone.
with attention deficit hitting stores in the fall, and anticipated to be a geniune work-of-art in the face of the capitalistic world of mainstream hip-hop, it’s probably easing wale’s soul that he could sit back just rap, for the sake of just rapping. but even when he’s shirking high-concept, the dude still manages to give a clinic on how rap is supposed to be done.