Pitchfork

When RZA oversaw the Ghost Dog OST, it had the perfect kind of soundtrack symbiosis-- between lyrical themes, helpful bits of dialogue, and the Wu mythology, you could listen to the music and have a good idea what its parent film was about. But you didn't need to actually see the Forest Whitaker movie to know the record knocked something serious. Due to RZA never really breaking character when choosing alter-egos/side projects, I expected something similar from Afro Samurai Resurrection, the follow-up to 2007's manga soundtrack Afro Samurai. However, if I'm to take the music as face value indicative of its inspiration, the two things I'd figure about Afro is that 1) He derives his power from some sort of headband, and 2) He was a lot better at doing what he does about 15 years ago.

This whole "return of the 90s!" thing could be mashed into a fine paste before it reaches outside of internet writing circles, but the main problem hip-hop isn't sharing with, say, Slumberland and noise-pop redos is that most of the artists trying to revive Clinton-era styles actually recorded during that time. And really, RZA's too busy chopping it up at Guitar Center tech displays and on set with Russell Crowe to realistically compete with his past.  Sonically, it's not far from anything he did on Digi Snacks or Birth of a Prince-- simultaneously too slick and digital to work towards his strengths, but not plush enough to suggest he could have anything but a Rik Cordero video treatment without Afro's attendant Kill Bill meets Boondocks animation. 

We've heard these elements before-- Shaolin hand-block snare, steamy funk guitar, bass that hits like a depth charge of The Chronic. But where RZA would weave each together into backdrops as bloody and vibrant as a freshly opened vein, here he's content to chop a sample and let it repeat every four bars, if not even more often than that, and it's hard to imagine anyone fighting to get the first crack. There are a couple of ripe exceptions, notably "Dead Birds", which has System of a Down (well, the bassist at least) helping conjure an El-P-style dystopia, but you just spend three minutes wishing it was an actual El-P track. "Girl Samurai Lullaby" could pass for some touristy Reggae Sunsplash shit from the softest day in Shabba Ranks' 1992; "Nappy Afro" is a throwback to a time when trying to rip off She'kspeare was the quickest way to radio rotation. 

Things really aren't that much better on the mic-- god bless RZA, but at this point, he's all but ignoring meter completely, flowing like a three-legged race. Sixteen years after Method Man expounded on the genesis of Inspectah Deck's name, we can only sit back and watch him play himself: "I'm looking for some get back/ I'm quick to push your wig back/ You shouldn't have did that." Fortunately, we get some much-needed career resuscitation from Rah Digga (though neither beat does her justice) and "Whar", the strongest track and the one that has the least to do with the plot. And yet, even as Kool G Rap (sounding a lot like Jim Jones now that he's ad-libbing) and Ghostface kick nice punchlines about Al Capone's syphilis and Abe Lincoln's beard, it's still somewhat by-the-numbers.

But after the initial burst of brand recognition, we're left with the same Wu affiliate filler that most of us have been wisely ignoring for the better part of two decades. Killah Bees don't die, they multiply and spit martial raps full of discipline and bereft of any iota of personality that could distinguish between Wu-Tang Name Generator figments like Prodigal Sunn, Rugged Monk, and Moe Roc. The Black Knights stand out by matter of (relative) familiarity, and if you happen to be a blood relative of someone on "Take The Sword Pt. III", you might be able to make it through all 10 minutes. 

Look, it's no fun either way-- to plow through Afro Samurai Resurrection, or to bitch and moan about back in the day, a fate that befalls something like 99% of all mainstream releases. But at least the video game looks tight, which is something you can't say about Wu's output in that market back in the rec-room era. In this economy, that's just choosing your battles wisely.