Right out of the box, Soul Purpose make bold pronouncements. Of course, there’s that title, a pretty unambiguous mission statement itself, but even more brash is the chorus of the first track — “From white collar to no dollar and in between — feel me!” As is the case with just about every other NYC-centric record that comes out of the hip-hop underground, this one is most likely to be felt by middle-class kids who, whatever their downward aspirations, most likely have both dollars and collars in their futures, but it’s also got more than enough substance and creativity to hook the down-and-out dedicated.
The production team at the core of Soul Purpose has done commercial work in the past, including stuff for 3-6 Mafia and ghost production for some big names who by necessity remain, um, nameless, but on their own debut the group is aiming for an indisputably underground vibe, with plenty of elliptical melodies, unpredictable samples, and hard drums. The commercial influence shows itself here mainly in a dedication to professionalism on the engineering side — the recording is clean, the vocals lay snugly in the cut, and the soundstage is deep and resonant. The effect of the clean production is to distance the sounds of the underground from their claustrophobic, basement tape genesis and place them in the company of jazzy, clean, upbeat production ala Jurassic 5 or Hi-Tek. In fact, this may be the very first thing you notice when you hit play — and if you’ve already noticed that the roster of guest MCs includes connoisseurs of dirt like C-Rayz Walz and the Juggaknots’ Breezly Brewin, you might not be instantly comfortable with it.
But thanks to the relatively varied musical palette of producers Koncepts and Zvi, and to their nearly uncanny ability to match MCs with the right beats, not one of the multifarious guests seems out of place. Breaking Records journeys from blustery anthems to atonal abstractions, stripped-down battle tracks to slow jams, making equal room for bruisers like Pumpkinhead, jesters like Wordsworth, and off-kilter cats like Breez. The stable of writers take advantage of this leeway to cover huge ranges, both stylistically and thematically — in fact, after a listen or two you’re tempted to guess that basically every major theme of underground hip-hop is covered somewhere on this record. 427 revisits the eternal struggle of the committed artist on “Own Two Feet”, Percee P and Mazzi (Soul Purpose’s in-house MC) deliver a devastating battle track on “Take Cover”, and Immortal Tecnique drop one of the most vicious copper stoppers since Ice-T on “The Other White Meat”. These topics, however familiar, are each approached with such energy and insight that they sound like virgin territory. Case in point is Brewin, who, on “Minimum Wage”, brazenly combines the equally overworked topics of day jobs and Puff Daddy disses: “Fuck a Puff with Mo’ money, Mo’ problem dollar dismay / I don’t buy it neither should y’all, you believe it? C’mon / I’m so tired, no money’s the issue. Mo’ money? Forget you / Hate for some paper, you’d be stupid — If that’s a problem, it’s a problem like sayin’ some pussy’s too good”. Suddenly, it’s like the world is brand new again — and it’s all done over a stilted beat perfect for Breez’s babbling-brook flow.
If that’s not enough, there are also several genuinely fresh ideas, too. You remember that sexy jam I mentioned? Well, once you actually listen to the rhymes it reveals itself to be a paean to that most taboo of hip-hop subjects, sexual frustration — complete with a chorus listing various items useful in combating it. We also get C-Rayz Walz going before a hard-to-please God and trying to defend his imperfect life on the funny and honest “The Last Cypher”, and an insightful, touching contemplation of growing older and growing apart on “The Ballad of Lost Friends”. Importantly, all of the album’s themes and styles manage to form a cohesive whole, thanks in part to judiciously placed interludes.
The only downside of Soul Purpose’s chameleonic adaptability is that, somewhat predictably, they fail to carve themselves a niche or craft a clear identity. Even though Breaking Records is cohesive, at the end of the album you’ll have little idea of what the group stands for, stylistically or thematically, other than that they’re “underground”. There are some bangers, but they’re not hardcore; there are some weird tracks, but they’re not experimental; there are some smooth tracks, but they’re not neo-soul. The worst off is Mazzi, the MC, who gets lost in the avalanche of guests. The songs he has to himself are mostly as good as those where he’s got company, and he deserves respect for this, but stacked back-to-back with some of the most distinctive voices in hip-hop, his verses are easy to think of as filler.
That this is even an issue is a testament to the constant proliferation of fresh styles in hip-hop these days. While 2003 has not shaped up as a banner year, we’re still standing in the shadow of both commercial and independent creators who have staked indisputable claims on unique and powerful sounds. Def Jux has its more-dusty-than-digital; Prefuse 73 has the inverse; Timbaland has minimalist middleasternism; the Neptunes rule slick pop-funk; Plague Language forges ahead with its drum ‘n’ bass fusion; etc. and etc., amen. It will be interesting to see whether Soul Purpose — without any such well-honed identity (and free of the limitations one would burden them with), but with a nearly flawless record — manages to gain a foothold in backpacker consciousness.