The "W"

The W is largely a return to murky idiosyncratic form after 1997's filler-bloated Wu-Tang Forever. Weighing in at a svelte 60 minutes, it plays to the group?s main strengths: brutal hooks and scary ambience.

The W is a sonic gestalt that exists somewhere between the Queensbridge projects and OutKast's Stankonia, down the block from Lee Perry's Black Ark studios, two floors below A Tribe Called Quest's Low End Theory.

Fully in charge on The W, RZA ditches the longeurs of Forever, borrows some adrenaline from Ghostface Killah's relentless Supreme Clientele, forsakes the Alesis drum machine, and returns to the crates to make the dirty, inexplicable music Wu fans want. [2/2001, p.106]

The W forgoes innovation and simply revels in the Clan's strengths: the way their star rappers toss around rhymes as if playing catch; RZA's skulking, string enhanced beats; all those mystical hip hop words.

"W" does have a few flaws, namely "Conditioner," which features Snoop Dogg and is the only track graced with Ol' Dirty's presence. Despite his trademark voice-cracking inflection, the Dirt Dog's verse sounds as if it was recorded over the phone, detracting from what could have been another Wu banger.

The monotony that blighted 1997's 'Wu-Tang Forever' and the sluggish complacency of some of the Clan's myriad solo projects in the past three years is notably absent. There's a born-again urgency here, with the RZA reclaiming control of the mixing desk from his disciples and trying out a few new tricks to spike the usual routine of cinematic string stabs and virtuoso raps.

There's a quality of randomness on The W that prevents it from cohering as an album. But even if it's just a collection of songs, The W is undeniably impressive, packing the kind of gritty, aggressive anthems that have been notably missing from most of the recent Wu solo albums. [#82, p. 148]

Filled with startling jump cuts and puzzling reverberations, The W is the best-produced Wu-affiliated album since GZA's 1995 Liquid Swords.... Eight years after their first single, it's a thrill to hear Wu-Tang sounding so unhinged. But it's also a pain in the ass. With nine voices, nine styles competing for your ear, even the most carefully crafted Wu-Tang album flirts with chaos, and the listener is left to separate milestones from mistakes. The W bursts with inspiration, but what does it all mean? You can't help wishing there was someone in charge.

All the big Wu dogs are here -- Ghostface Killah, Method Man, Raekwon, Genius, etc. -- and it sounds like they've been sharpening their skills like knives. They toss rhymes back and forth with the precision of a machine -- they're so good it's almost scary.

After being imitated for the last seven years, Wu-Tang Clan returns with another chamber for today's soft and silky rap. But don't get it twisted though. Despite their last album, Wu-Tang Forever, leaving fans uneasy, the Wu's third collective work, The W is crammed with nothing but Wu-bangas.

It's about as good a hip hop album as you will hear this year. Correction: Make that great.... It's hip-hop that plays to the streets and the suburbs with equal intensity, intelligence, insanity and integrity.

But for all its rapped W-Unity, this is RZA's record.... Far from straining, he's gone sensei, achieving a craft in which the hand leads the mind.