T.I.: Crisis icon

I don't know if I'll have my job this time next year, if the building I report to everyday will have been shelled, if the city that building's in will still have running water, if the home I'm confined to for lack of having anything to warrant leaving will have Internet access or even electricity. That sounds dramatic, but so does so much of the shit I read about what could be, and I'm doing the best I can to cope with the unfathomable. As a result, I find myself envying T.I., but it has little to do with how much better than me he'll fare in the face of economic catastrophe (though there is always that, as he's the type of guy who's like, "Sheet, what the fuck is a million bucks?"). Mostly, my jealousy comes from T.I.' s certainty in our age of uncertainty. On his sixth album, Paper Trail, he's staring down a year's worth of jail time after pleading guilty to weapons charges earlier this year. He knows exactly what kind of temporary misery he faces and responds to it accordingly. "Pain's a small thing to a giant," says the future inmate while smiling with his larynx. The effect is incredibly comforting.

T.I. is a picture of grace under firestorm, and I didn't know he had such strong character in him. In fact, I didn't know he had much of anything besides ego in him after he spent his last album, T.I. vs. T.I.P., up his own ass. While the infinitely superior Paper Trail is again devoted to the inner workings of Clifford Harris, the death of his friend Philant Johnson and his subsequent conviction have given him the gift of perspective. Few things are as constructive as spinning art from tragedy, and it's a joyous occasion when something as wonderful and emotionally rounded as Paper Trail comes to exist. The album is a microcosm of creative flourishing, a sign of its time not unlike that which arose during the Great Depression. It's not Grapes of Wrath or anything, but who wants depressing at a time of possible depression?

And that's the thing: even when he's verbally scoping the topic of his arrest and jail time with the precision of a sharpshooter, as on "Ready for Whatever," T.I. doesn't wallow. He doesn't ask for sympathy, he just explains in the most lucid terms why a millionaire rapper would put himself in the position of possessing illegal firearms in the first place (if his friend Johnson were strapped at the time of his death, it would have given him a fighting chance, and that idea pushed T.I. beyond the point of rationality). The organ-infused "No Matter What" pumps your heart instead of pulling its strings (a minor distinction, surely). From someone with a lesser bark, all of its keep-on-keepin'-on-in' ("Make the impossible possible / Even when winning's illogical, losing's still far from optional") would sound excruciating. T.I.'s heightened sensitivity in the context of such bravado, instead is a feat. (Regarding that bravado, the word "swagger" is practically his mantra here. It's to the point where talking about swagger is an essential part of his swagger.) Even the lies that bust out of the ode to an incarcerated dude "You Ain't Missin' Nothin'," ("You only do two days in the joint: the day you get locked up and the day you go home"; "You know the club on hold and the broads on pause / You get home, it's gonna be waitin' on y'all") feel valid because they're driven by earnestness. The unmistakable truth is that T.I.'s not afraid to be vulnerable, because he's had his vulnerable ass handed to him. You can't see the tears running down his eyes, so he makes his songs cry.

There are tracks that simply sparkle in the face of adversity like the Ludacris-featuring, best T.I. song ever, "On Top of the World," in which the 808 snares breathe new life, as they're allowed to kick as fast as noisemakers on New Year's Eve. "Live Your Life" (which has grown on me considerably since the VMAs) celebrates existence with the joy that only wordlessness can ("Hey-ay-uh-ay-uh-ay!"). And as T.I. engages in progressing (he, for example, murders his gangster-cliche tendencies in "Dead and Gone") so does his music -- "World" and "Life" are in major keys (and least, they sound like it to me), which isn't common for rap, let alone Southern rap. There's a sonic freshness here that suggests that problem with Southern rap maybe has less to do with 808-sameiness and more to do with its perma-scowl. When that unsmiling vibe is taken to the monotonous degree of something like Young Jeezy's piss-poor The Recession, it feels as cold and punishing as metal. It is what it is, but it's such a drag in the process.

And don't get me wrong, Trail and its creator are far from perfect. T.I.'s full of contradiction and sometimes painfully lacking in self-awareness. In "You Ain't Missin' Nothing" he says, "The time do itself, all you gotta do is show up," and then seconds later: "Do the time, homeboy, don't let the time do you." There's too much bitching about fame. On a major-label rap album, it comes off as frivolous as bitching about the cost of gas in a Humvee. And sometimes that swagger is just silliness realized: he's too butch to dance, but he's not too hard to take his Luis Vuitton and Gucci rags out and wave them to the music? Does he not realize how much gayer that looks?

But it's this imperfection that makes his coping relatable. He may go extra with it, but he's ultimately an everydude. T.I. maps out very practical ways of handling strife from catharsis in complaining ("My Life, Your Entertainment") to reliance on friends ("Swagga Like Us" with Kanye, Jay-Z and Lil' Wayne) to the comforts of sex ("Porn Star" and "Whatever You Like," the latter of which would be the rap ballad of the decade were it, you know, rapped -- instead, here's M.I.A.'s sing-songy-rappy-chanty style commercially realized). Sure, on Paper Trail, the recession is something to just gloat about ("High as gas is, the country at war and people are starvin' / And I pay a million dollars for Ferrari's, retarded, huh?"). It makes his ultimate social consciousness seem...well, unconscious. That sounds stupid and impossible, and yet, the man's words soothe. Maybe T.I.'s positiveness, his sensitivity, his rationale are no match for our to-be-ravaged society. But for now, I'm hopeful that he'll conquer his tragedy unscathed and we'll follow his lead.

Whatever you need to tell yourself to make it through. You know?

Comments

[Cheryl]

Since my radio station has decided it LOVES "Whatever You Like" I guess I do too..

Stay strong, you're awesome!

[marie]

I love this review. I'm a huge fan of "Whatever You Like" and you've inspired me to check out the entire album.

[Maria]

Love that album, and I love him as an artist. He does seem to have grown a lot, I agree.

Great review.

[Erin]

I love that you talk about T.I. and listen to this kind of music. I love Clifford Harris Jr. too. I'm amazed that you were able to write an entire review without ONCE going ga ga over his appearance. Man is friggin' GORGEOUS. Impossibly so.

[Martha]

Amazing review. Going to download it right now.

[naynay]

Don't get me wrong, I am a longtime reader, but I must have missed the memo--what does 'H.E.R' stand for?

[amanda]

nice review!!!!!!! and where is that video still in the banner from?????

[spazmo]

Amanda - it's from "Last House on the Left", if I'm not mistaken.

[Angela]

you complete me.

once again you've managed to put me in a good mood.

Oh how I love fourfour and T.I.

[amanda]

spazmo, thank you so much!

[Jan]

Great review! I think Paper Trails is awesome and shows a little maturity from the days when T.I. was singing Rubber Band Man. Plus he's ridiculously good-looking.

[somedude]

Live your life reminds me so much of Ghetto Superstar for some reason

[Sarah G]

This may be controversial but "Whatever You Like" kinda bores me. When I first heard it the hook was constantly stuck in my head and I wanted to hear it again, I just can't make it through the whole song without changing to the next. He easily has the best verse on "Swagger Like US" though.

[StickyKeys]

FLOVE this CD! And after the swab fest that was TI v TP I was happy for the breath of fresh air this album was. On Top of the World is easily the best, and Whatever You Like is ridiculously catchy and wonderful.

This is an excellent review Rich and hit upon so many things I thought about the album but couldn't form into a coherent sentence. Thanks!

[Lizzie]

This doesn't have anything to do with your (fantastic) review, but what's up with the comments on that page you linked to about his friend's death? They're all the same comment with different names... So bizarre.

[ElaineT]

Check out Weird Al's take on Whatever You Like:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yRVi0paZlfI

I'm with Sarah G- I find the song monotonous and it gets stuck in my head. However, it soothes like a lullaby, so I don't mind too much.

[Chupacabra]

This all sounds terribly similar to the cushion that is religion.

[Sister Toldja]

1) OMG, I never realized you were the same Rich from Pot Psych. I.Fucking.Love.You. If I see you in NYC, I'm gonna flip, so be warned!

2) I tend to be a little turned off by Hip-Hop reviews by White boys and (middle class Black folks too) usually, because I see a lot of over intellectualizing, disconect and an overall ignorance of the Black pain that breeds what we call 'gangster rap'. I don't enjoy the destruction of my people being used as entertainment for Black folks or anyone else. However, this was really fucking on point.

[Rcauxpvz]

R87udA

[us cialis]

If you have to do it, you might as well do it right.

[lacoste shoes 2010]

Did you ever expect a corporation to have a conscience,when it has no soul to damned,and no body to be kicked?Do you understand?