Lil’ Wayne

With 2008’s gargantuan triple-platinum success “Tha Carter III,” Lil’ Wayne became the most exciting and successful act in the rap world. Critics lauded him as inventive and commanding; delighted fans made “Tha Carter III” the top-selling record of 2008; and, in Wayne’s song “Mr. Carter”, rap-deity Jay-Z was seen as having passed the hip-hop crown to Weezy.

So it comes as a shock that on his newest album, “Rebirth,” Wayne leaves rap music behind altogether in favor of an as-yet uncharted genre: rock. In this latest effort, Wayne abandons rap’s sampled beats for a bass, drum set, and electric guitar. Power ballads of unrequited love replace tales of street violence and self-promotion, and the dissing and calling out of other rappers is tossed out in favor of punk-inspired castigation of society and nameless enemies. This bold step, however admirable it might be in theory, comes nowhere near the creation of good music.

In truth, Wayne’s rap-to-rock and rock-to-rap translations lose significantly more than they gain. The crucial elements of the artist’s past success have been pop grooves that were radio-ready, like “Lollipop”, and aggressive, brash songs you could still bounce your head to and enjoy, such as his first major hit, “Go DJ.” The sort of fun and confidence that were needed to produce these big hits runs contrary to the seriousness of the major theme of “Rebirth”—success in all its forms and the problems and re-evaluations that result from it. Worse, the narrative that carries this theme is banal and in many senses childish. There is an inherent incongruity in the combination between Wayne’s hackneyed stories and the punk-influenced, angsty rock music that he is drawing upon.

“Prom Queen” is one of the worst examples of Wayne’s lyrics running directly against the musical background. The music is forceful and angry as an electric guitar pounds out a progression identical to that found on the punk-metal band System of a Down’s 2001 hit single, “Chop Suey,” and Wayne’s slow, aggressive, auto-tuned drawl recalls Marilyn Manson. On top of this, Wayne tells an unbearably trite story about high school in disappointingly simplistic language. Explaining how his feelings for the prom queen were never returned, Wayne whines, “She didn’t realize she chased the type of guys / That don’t believe in ties, trying to apologize.” Not only does this story lack all of the angst present in the music, but its rhymes are contrived and fail to inspire any empathy in the listener. Wayne’s triumphal final boast, “But now the prom queen... / Is crying sitting outside of my door,” cheapens the other emotions expressed in the song and prevents the listener from sympathizing with his lonesome high school self.

Wayne continues this trend of combining punk, metal, and rock influences with middle school pop lyrics throughout “Rebirth.” In “Paradice,” Wayne copies the narrative structure of Journey’s legendary “Don’t Stop Believin’,” rapping first, “she was a young girl,” and then, “he was a young boy;” and directly references Smash Mouth’s equally famous “Allstar,” rapping, “everything that glitters ain’t gold.” He fails to come within throwing distance of either Journey’s story-telling skill or Smash Mouth’s fun, however, and the song just elucidates the gaping abyss between great rock stars and Lil’ Wayne. “The Price is Wrong” features a similarly loud and angry guitar coupled with an absurd story about lost high school love and the fact that Lil’ Wayne thinks, “I was the baddest motherfucker in the lunchroom, classroom, her room.”

“Rebirth” gets truly hollow, however, when Wayne tries to be serious. On “Runnin’,” the electric guitar almost sounds acoustic as a set of minor-key, somber strums set the song in a grave light. “We all in the race, I’m just another sprinter / If there’s no finish line then who’s the real winner?” Wayne broods. This attempt at real reflection sounds almost comical with the combination of wailing female vocals, ponderous guitar riffs, and Wayne’s attempts at punch line epiphanies.

Wayne’s only successful attempt at assimilating his rap background with rock music comes on “Ground Zero.” Two electric guitar lines produce a frenetic beat that is further energized by pounding drums and a screaming Wayne, who raps about the pitfalls of a bad drug trip. “How can I pray when I got nothing to kneel on?” Wayne asks, as he explains, “I’m so high that the ground is gone.” Wayne for once manages to match the fast moving metal-rock sound that is dominant throughout “Rebirth” with an appropriately aggressive lyrical flow and maniacal spirit, creating a disappointingly isolated highlight.

“Ground Zero” seems to prove, then, that there is some room for success in Wayne’s conception of a rock album. Indeed, the problem with “Rebirth” is not that a rock album was a bad idea, though it was ambitious and risky. Rather, this record is such a failure because Wayne is almost completely incapable of executing what might have been an interesting experiment.

—Staff Writer Alexander E. Traub can be reached at atraub@college.harvard.edu.