What is it we want from Only Built 4 Cuban Linx... Part II? At this stage, it's been 14 years and two well-spaced albums since the first part of Raekwon's thesis of Wu-Tang production and lyrical methodology. Immobilarity and The Lex Diamond Story were enjoyable, if somewhat thinned elaborations on said winning formula.
Those two albums may have suffered, as most do, on the tail of a canonized debut. Strictly put, they aren't the original, and fail to wrestle us from the warm bronze bosom of Cuban Linx.
Direct sequels are just as fraught, if not more so, but there's a specific faith in a return to prominence. Rae knows as well as anyone what the album has become in the public imagination, and understands exactly how to secure our belief. We look at the album cover and see a still-marshmallow-cheeked, raw-as-ever Raekwon with life-partner Ghostface Killah in the same war poses. We realize, then, that all we ever want after a near-perfect album is the best simulacrum, and Rae is eager to provide.
One notable change is the scaling back of Wu-Tang producer-regent RZA, who had produced the former album in its entirety. Raekwon and Ghostface led most of the complaints against him after a sketchy veer in direction on 8 Diagrams. They throw him three tracks here, but in large part the album benefits from the medley.
The album's first five tracks have as many producers, and kick the album off with styles old and new. "Return of the North Star" lays the drug narrative on the same doubts of Part One's "Striving For Perfection" before barreling into the single, "House of Flying Daggers," whose violins and drums thunder several layers thicker than we may be used to. "Pyrex Vision" sticks to a signature pensive sample while forcing Rae almost to a whisper. "New Wu," one of RZA's own, has the producer returning swiftly to form with a ghoulish background of one syllable: "Wu." Lyrically, Raekwon is as facile as ever; his flow is still jagged and complex, complimented as always by the now-acknowledged savior of Wu-Tang, Ghostface.
The album's themes pick up where Cuban Linx left off. The album persists in the mythos and drama of drug dealing exploits: murders, robberies and domestic tensions. He's allowed to reminisce - we let Ghost do it - and it keeps us in the territory of the original, which, again, is where we wanted to be. But at the moment, it's not the classic we've perhaps involuntarily (though I doubt it) begged for and conceived. In some ways, after 14 years, one ages beyond the sequel.
Part II is a fantastic, varied album with expansions on and explorations that pass the best of the Wu formula. Its pre-built expectations may inevitably throw us off its better qualities, but hopefully not for long.
