Vakill-Armor of God

It's been a long time -- I shouldn't have left you... without a fly rec to step to. (I see you're hyper as a heart attack -- nobody's smiling). But I've been sifting through some decidedly meh albums (Moruf's Garden State of Mind, to name one) looking for a juicy review that just wouldn't come. So I decided: You know what? Fuck it. I'll review the next album I download. And when crunch time came, and the all-important decision of whether to DL Armor of God or Legendary Weapons first came up, the coin flip decided against the latter. And here we are.
But as I am cursed with an awful roundabout writing style, this review will be about more than Vakill's latest work; I am attempting to tackle the whole question of why people dislike mainstream hip hop. And while this is a question that many writers more knowledgeable than I have failed in tackling, I hope that if I can't hit the nail on the head, I can at least drive it a little further into the wood. Let's roll.
We all know that mainstream taste is fickle. (Any doubters can simply look at the artists we knew were bound for success in 2008; XXL Freshmen that year included Mickey Factz and Ace Hood.) In seemingly an instant, public opinion can shift between wanting soft ballads to wanting club hits and back again. So then it would make sense that the artists best primed for success could change with the tide; taking a look at Drake's hits, we see romantic ballad ('Best I Ever Had'), posse cut ('Forever') and club banger ('Fancy'). But remove yourself from the mainstream circle and suddenly no one likes Drake anymore. Why?
The answer to that question is that fans of underground hip hop are far less fickle, and more likely to support an artist who does not change his style. The best example of this rift can be found in the hip hop duo Bad Meets Evil. On tracks like 'Renegade' and 'Bad Meets Evil', Eminem and Royce exchanged over-the-top, faux-sadistic punchlines and appeared to be entirely in sync. Then, off of the success of The Slim Shady LP, Eminem blossomed into a superstar and his buddy Royce was left in the dust. Eminem went through all sorts of phases: The hyper-emotional train wreck of The Marshall Mathers LP, the winking-at-inappropriate-without-crossing-boundaries pop star of The Eminem Show, and the hopped-up-on-NyQuil hospital patient of Relapse. Royce, on the other hand, basically stayed the same. Through Death Is Certain, Street Hop, and the Slaughterhouse albums, he's basically remained the same battling punchline rapper of 1998. And while Eminem has been a megastar in the mainstream spotlight, he's largely hated in the underground community; Royce da 5'9" is pretty much universally respected by hip hop heads.
So where is this going, and how does this connect to Vakill? Why have I wasted 4 paragraphs without so much as a lick of useful information? Be patient, padawan. The answer to those rhetorical questions is on the way.
I guess my point is one I have made before, in the context of Lil B's album: Good music comes from truth. Which is why I'll always enjoy Styles P, Fat Joe, early 50 Cent, and yes, Waka Flocka Flame more than artists like Drake or Wale. The former have found a niche that works for them and can consistently make music that sounds truthful; the latter insist on trying to switch up their styles in an attempt to please everyone (being hood yet conscious) and end up sounding corny and fake.
Okay, point made. How does this relate to Armor of God? I thought you'd never ask. The reason I'm telling you all this is because Vakill on here seems like the perfect embodiment of that "I can't do everything, so I might as well stick to what I know" kind of attitude, which makes the album amazing. Here's some bars from the title track which sum up the point I've been trying to make in the last several paragraphs:

Give a fuck if fans okayed it; all I got is my balls and my word
If the streets hold me to my word, we already know where your hands located
Your fears confirming my thesis
The time fabrics in permanent creases
Pressing the luck you weigh, when bucks spray, you lay
Uckfay ouyay, want some positive shit? Motherfucker play Lupe

Armor Of God is wicked cohesive in that aspect; the songs are for the most part either street ballads, or punchline-heavy battle raps, or both. The only places where 'kill falters are when he tries to take things above and beyond, on the passable political effort 'A Lynched Legacy' and the groan-inducing force that is 'Bi-Polar.' Still, those don't come until the very end, so for 13 songs Vakill is his usual hustling self. Which, given his old-school skills and ear for dope lines (“An animal, on his corporate grizzy, spit divine as Corpus Christi, flowing hellfire until your corpse is crispy"), is more than enough, especially considering the production. You know what? (What?) The production deserves its own paragraph.
Panik, who produced 8 of the 16 tracks on here, is simply out of this world, crafting beats that are multi-layered without being flashy or overpowering, and allow Vakill to perfectly display his lyrical talent. In fact, I'll even go so far as to name his production the best beats of the year; I really need to check out the Molemen's solo joints. Maybe I'll check out Ritual Of The... (featuring Aesop Rock, Slug, and MF DOOM), and then, I don't know, write a review or something.
Final Rating: 9/10
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By Crakpot
http://crakpothiphop.blogspot.com/