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Put a little pop in your life and what you'll discover is that underneath the materialistic veneer Nelly's got a good delivery, sharp lyrics and impeccable breath control, which would make him #1 no matter WHERE he was from.
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Skeptics might wonder if the sprawling guest list is an admission of fading commercial prowess. So, it's to the MC's credit that Brass Knuckles still feels like a party.
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Brass Knuckles is 14 songs long. All of them could be singles. None of them could be hits.
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Brass Knuckles is standard Nelly fare.
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The real problem, though, isn't the music (accomplished and catchy enough for distracted listening), nor is it Nelly's own verses (more stylish than substantive, as always). Rather, it's that a dedicated capitalist--hear his "Buy me the mall" manifesto on 'Hold Up'--is using a business model that's on its way to extinction.
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Nelly's latest offering is hopefully the beginning of the renaissance of an artist who most definitely was starting to look guilty of selling out.
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On his fifth album, he mostly sticks to that pop-rap formula, cranking his distinctly melodic flow to hyper-speeds and playing the good-natured hedonist on cuts like 'Party People.' But when he tries to come off hard on a handful of Dirty South brawlers, he ends up sounding generic
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It’s sure not a knockout, but it’s his hardest-hitting album yet. Just don’t call it a comeback.
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This is what Nelly's Brass Knuckles is best summarized as...a club jam.
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There’s nothing that’s boldly offensive or immediately dismissible, save a few slight missteps.
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Brass Knuckles sounds less like the product of a fighter who's ready to go back into the ring than one who's stalling for time.
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Airplay or not, however, he's also sounding seriously dated.