Mr. Wonderful

Though Bronson does try new things on his first major-label outing, he still includes his characteristic lyrical qualities along with elements from past releases. In a sense, he's re-introducing himself.

Through it all, Bronson balances brutish punch lines with a stunning wit, and tempers his lust for world travel and opulence with self-deprecating jokes, and yet, Mr. Wonderful is still just a tad too big and busy for the newcomer.

Aside from a few problematic miscues, the majority of Mr. Wonderful can be maneuvered without the skip button in tow.

It's the rare rap album that actually rewards its mixtape following.

Mr. Wonderful isn’t everything for everybody, but it seems to belong completely to Bronson.

It’s the rare major-label debut that trusts the artist’s aesthetic enough to not tamper with it.

This is a dynamite album, which is to be expected from someone so prolific and well-liked, but it isn’t the best album Action could’ve made.

Self-aware in all of the right ways and delightfully crass in all of the wrong ones, Mr. Wonderful is ultimately a bit of a lark, but it is also far more enjoyable, far more self-aware, and far wittier than it needed to be.

With Action Bronson, he's continuously put out solid bodies of work, whilst never compromising his character. Mr. Wonderful may not be the strongest debut he could've released, but for a rapper that probably doesn't measure his ability by studio albums, neither should we.

Mr. Wonderful may not come off as the sweeping epic its coda hints at, but it’s an entertaining and unique experience that only Bronson could give us. Few rap albums can be this different and still satisfying.

Mr. Wonderful is a solid offering from a guy who consistently puts out quality music.

Like any colourful kaleidoscope however, there's a lack of cohesion on this debut, as varying production clashes throughout the disorganized project. That's a minor quibble, though; if you look closely, and let the visuals clash and morph into something new, you'll still find plenty to wonder at.

On the album's best tracks ("Terry," "The Rising"), he sounds like he's rapping from the corner table of a smoky social club.

It’s unclear what Ronson is doing on this project, and his appearances just add to an often-disjointed flow of the record. But some of the finer production on the record merits praise.

What follows is a musical of sorts wedged into the gut of the album.... This digression is conceptually ambitious, but the execution seems to purposefully undercut the exercise, as if the suite was the result of an argument between a devil on one shoulder and an angel on the other about what the album should accomplish that was won by neither.