Some of the biggest problems are the same ones plaguing much of Lil Wayne's catalog: the annoying Auto-Tuned sing-speak of his choruses, the empty sexual boasts and clichéd street bragging of his rhymes, and the generic quality of many of his beats. The new twists are that those rhythms are delivered by a live, stomping rhythm section--though that hardly makes them more appealing--and they're decorated by a lot of hackneyed hair-metal guitar wank, as well as the occasional flourish of Queen-like glam-rock and Coldplay-style arena melodrama.
Critics who boarded the Lil Wayne bandwagon against their willand I suspect there are many, DeRogatis certainly included; his hilariously spiteful review of Tha Carter III is one of the most begrudging two-and-and-half star reviews you'll ever readhave officially been granted an exit.
"This rivals the worst career misstep by a major artist in recentmemory," writes the Chicago Tribune's Greg Kot (who, as you might guess by his credentials, much prefers Wilco to Weezy). "Think Garth Brooks’ infamous “Chris Gaines” project stunk? Orhow awful was Chris Cornell’s ill-advised collaboration with Timbaland?Yes, Rebirth is that bad."
Well, no, Rebirth is not that bad. But it's certainly not good, either. Its songs are overcooked and half-formed, its guitars are garish and Wayne's bizarre, impassioned voice is robbed of much of its character by Auto-Tune. Wayne still rapsand sometimes with great firebut the songs cling so closely to tired, traditional rock structures that there isn't much room for the long tangents he does best.
What makes Rebirth an epic, image-tarnishing failure as opposed to just a misfire, though, is the long build up to the record. As originally envisioned, Rebirth was to be a one-off, rush-released, niche follow-up to Wayne's triumphant Carter IIIreally, not all that different from the mixtapes Wayne fires off with regularity, just better funded and more outside the box. But a series of long delays fed an unending drum roll of bad press around the album. Unreleased, Rebirth hung over Wayne's head and began to define him.
"While my brother Wayne rocking out like a White Stripe, I'mma kill the game like I'mma Young Money white knight," Wayne's protege Drake rapped on Mary J. Blige's "The One" this summer, as if like everyone else he viewed Wayne's rock fixation as an unfortunate phase sure to pass.
In truth, though, Wayne already had moved on. Since summer, he's been telling everyone he's recording his proper, decidedly not-rock following up to The Carter III, and he's kept busy with mixtapes (where oddly enough his flirtations with rock music were far more successful), tours, guest spots and his stronger-than-ever Young Money brand, coronating stars with remarkable success.
Now that Rebirth is finally behind him, he'll be able refocus public attention toward those more fruitful endeavorsor he would, that is, if time weren't working against him. Next week, Wayne goes to jail to serve an eight-month sentence on gun charges. Here's hoping that sometime during that duration he releases a mixtape to wash away Rebirth's aftertaste.
