Initially, I wasn't quite sure what to make of the outro to "Soul on Ice", which informs the listener that maybe they should familiarize themselves with Cube's prophetic early albums, as if this is really going to be anyone's introduction to him. And Cube can still be potently incisive in detailing whatever's fucking up America at the time: "Hood Robbin'" addresses the health-care woes and housing bubble with depressing realism. Both ascended to legendary status not so much by the manner of radio hits or a time-stamped rhyme style, but rather with an intellectual clarity and force of conviction that made them more dangerous than anyone merely preaching violence. I suppose you have only yourself to blame for being disappointed by an Ice Cube album at this point, but similar to Public Enemy, you're disappointed because they're hip-hop artists who weren't necessarily destined to age so poorly. Fun fact: out of the 17 tracks on Ice Cube's Greatest Hits, only five feature him rapping on the chorus. Then there are the hooks, and they're all totally embarrassing, set to stilted cadences and going downhill from there. throughout ("I Rep That West", "Too West Coast", "Life in California"), but despite the outro of "Your Money or Your Life" doing an "I'm Still #1"-style namedrop of all of the West Coast legends he's down with, the only one that shows up is WC, who promptly blows away anyone else here. Dre on "Drink the Kool-Aid", and while he's denied any sort of beef, an apology is wholly unnecessary since I Am the West pays full tribute to Aftermath's assembly-line mid-decade production- it's nothing but plodding piano vamps, sterile handclap snares, and the occasional rave synth preset. Cube gets in what seems like a pretty obvious dig at Dr. But he shows his hand by half-bragging, "I'm a hall of famer/ Treated like a stranger," operating from the vantage point that radio airplay is still the lingua franca of respect in the rap game. Now, if Cube wanted to just go off at other rappers over defiantly retro G-funk beats, well, that basically describes a Westside Connection record, not coincidentally the last good music project he was involved with.
Throughout, there are off-handed but telling asides like, "this ain't Tha Carter," "not like Kanye," and what I can presume to be a dig at Drake for having a white mother. Cube rants, "Why can't I talk about the shit I see?/ Without Alicia Keys, without going R&B?" and combined with a track called "No Country for Young Men", it's obvious Cube is trying to instill some kind of restorative old-school values into hip-hop. Too often, Cube's either making specific threats against vague targets or vague threats at specific targets, ultimately offering a viewpoint more confused than conflicted. It doesn't work the problem isn't the anger itself but rather the manner in which it's being directed.
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