"Land of Promise" is the closest we get to "Jamrock" - it's certainly not a universal banger in precisely the same vein, but Marley (in his comfort zone) rips it to shreds, imagining Ghana to be California, or wondering if Lagos was Las Vegas. The grandiose melodrama of "Dispear" possesses a myriad of subtle brushstrokes, such as how the snares are triple echoed to resemble the automatic gunfire that Marley describes. Live instrumentation suits Nas, it's strange to think now just how little it has peppered his career thus far - it could prove a stunning addition to his future arsenal.
There is very little that doesn't work, with both Marley (obviously) and Nas (surprisingly) meshing flawlessly into practically everything. It snakes at will, switching to accommodate (more frequently) Nas, meaning you get almost double the amount of "instrumentals". As is the music: this isn't an individualistic or opportune melee of "hot riddims" but a carefully constructed, yet more or less organic, live show. You could even dare to dream that they do this every few years, or whenever the inspiration calls – there is a natural affinity present, it is something to behold. Yet, already by this early stage, trying to picture Nas without Marley or vice versa leaves a black hole: they work so remarkably well together that any naysayers have no ammunition. Bizarrely enough, songs like "Leaders" and "Friends" eventually become preferable to the more immediate ones the latter, in particular, is something that we can all directly relate to, but a subject matter that few rappers care to broach (in this context, real friends become family). The first couple of spins are undoubtedly uneven, but persist and all manner of hidden treasures begin to catch a glint of the sunlight. Yet, though he sounds enraged, a minute but clever effect: the heartbeat that pulses stays consistent (amongst any situation, he can keep that icy cool). "Strong Will Continue" finds a stunning final verse from Nas, spilling his thoughts out on wax with complexity, brutal honesty and, possibly a sprinkle of that typical Jones brand of hypocrisy. After a while, however, you start to notice the foundation of the album: the intricate attention to detail, with each and every number crafted individually. Next up, K'naan grabs his opportunity to shine with both hands, practically stealing the superb "Tribal War" with a sterling verse, although D's chorus is perfect too. That is the only time they go line for line, but it serves its purpose well, a warm welcome mat for "Distant Relatives" whilst also immediately proving that the chemistry isn't forced.
But how does this long awaited collaboration with Nas work out? Can it even be called that in the truest sense of the word? And what kind of shape is Jones even in, given his recent travails?Ĭheeky album opener "As We Enter" gives practically no indication of what the LP is actually like, with Nas and Marley tag-teaming the funk, meshing perfectly. Damian's ode to the continent is likely to be the universal soundtrack to summer 2010 for thousands around the world, in every corner of the globe. The Marley family, Jamaica, are footie mad, so releasing it a few weeks before kick off is no surprise. Africa has waited a long time to host its very first one, and whilst, undoubtedly, a million things will go spectacularly wrong, it will all come together (and England will win). I'm talking about, of course, the World Cup that kicks off in South Africa on June 11th, a sporting event second only to the Olympics in popularity but more enthralling. Some things are worth waiting for – whether it leads to success or failure, its very existence defies belief, and you're just happy it is finally here. Nas & Damian Marley :: Distant Relatives :: Republic Records