Words by Matt M.

I really, really wanted to like this album. It seemed like with King, T.I. had hit his stride, and things were looking good. His swagger was undeniable, his charisma oozed out onto every track, and he bobbed and weaved through beats that would leave clumsier, weaker emcees a mess. King was a vision of T.I. ascendant, the underdog having finally clawed his way onto the throne, and he was going nowhere. Until now.

It’s difficult to describe where exactly he went wrong with T.I. Vs. T.I.P. Sure, the idea behind the album is ham-handed, poorly executed and plain idiotic. For the uninitiated, T.I. is the suave, jet-setting, movie premiere-attending part of his personality, while T.I.P. is the rough around the edges, streetwise, drug-dealing hustler that survived the mean streets of the Atl to come up in the hip hop game. Apparently, they’re at odds with each other. It’s like he heard Biggie’s “Gimme The Loot” and thought it would be a good idea to shoehorn his own half-baked identity crisis into that and stretch it out to a full album. It doesn’t work at all, and, in any case, seems to be an afterthought on most of the songs.

Then there’s the production. Where King featured Just Blaze at the tail end of his peak and, lest we forget, the towering, DJ Toomp-produced inferno of “What You Know,” T.I. Vs. T.I.P. has the flimsy stabs at glory of “Big Shit Poppin’” and the fine, but not great, “You Know What It Is.” The latter coasts nicely on a sinister, catchy, fairly minimalist beat, all bass and swirling, chopped up sirens, while T.I. glides nicely over the beat.

There are a few mind-bendingly bad songs scattered throughout the album – check out “Touchdown” featuring Eminem, which serves as a depressing reminder of why everybody does their best to ignore Em post-Encore debacle. Em’s beat sounds like it was recorded in a metal cave – it’s all tinny, barely-there drums and some lazy, lazy synths (or horns – I can’t quite figure it out, which is never a good sign).

“My Swag,” which is the second song with Wyclef Jean on it, is virtually unlistenable. The beat sounds like the soundtrack to some hitherto undiscovered prequel to Beverly Hills Cop (not in a good way though), while T.I. shuns his usually impressive flow, opting instead for a grating sing-song cadence. It’s execrable.

“Show It To Me” features Nelly – ‘nuff said. “Don’t You Wanna Be High” rehashes “Why You Wanna,” without being good and should serve as a reminder to other emcees who feel they have to include a song for the ladies that things rarely work out as planned. “My Type” is the take me serious song on the album, and pales in comparison to another of his similarly themed songs – “Live In The Sky” off King.

Of course, it’s still T.I., and he’s got skills to burn when he deigns a beat worthy of his fullest effort. “Tell Em I Said That” has got an undeniable urgency to it, and brings out one of T.I.’s greatest strengths – his voice. He is able to switch from affable Southern drawl to guttural snarl at the blink of an eye, and he does this to great effect here.

“We Do This” has a vicious beat, courtesy of The Runners, and T.I., unsurprisingly, spends his time flossing, wrapping his voice around the weightless synths while the choral chants in the background grant the track some gravitas. It’s a keeper.

“Help Is Coming” is fine as well – not terrific, but a decent semi-epic banger. Just Blaze cobbles together a beat that sees him reaching for the earth-scorching days of Breathe and Public Service Announcement but falling short, turning in a track notable more for its hints at past greatness than anything particularly noteworthy today. In any case, T.I. uses the opportunity to situate himself in hip hop today. As one of the few marquee rap names left, he may have a point when he says ‘My heart and my soul, where hip hop live at / To anyone who’s ever said hip hop’s finished / it can’t be dead while I’m still livin’ in it.’ Unfortunately, that’s part of the problem on this album – where before he was hungry, he’s now content to rest on his laurels with a disconcerting number of phoned-in performances. Finally, the long-awaited Jay-Z collabo, “Watch What You Say,” though a bit underwhelming, does its job well enough. There’s little pomp in this song – it’s a slow burner, and both emcees spit nicely enough. Jay-Z also throws a few subliminals Lil Wayne’s way, making this, sadly, maybe the most interesting part of the album.

In sum, this isn’t bad enough, like the aforementioned Encore or, to a slightly lesser extent (but not as slight as his defenders would have you think) Kingdom Come, to completely crush you with disappointment. It’s more of a creeping heartbreak. You skip through each song or stupid ass T.I. Vs. T.I.P. skit, hoping you’re going to fall on the “I’m Talkin’ To You,” “Top Back,” or “King” that he has surely got up his sleeves. Alas, nothing comes. He’s taken a big step backwards with this album, and it seems like he got complacent. Up until this, on every album he was hungrier, wanting that respect that he never felt he got. Now he did, and here he’s comfortably ensconced in his throne, flitting his hand at songs that in the past he would have leapt into with gusto, ripping through them and reminding us why we should care about him. It’s disappointing, and we deserve better. Other emcees take notice – the throne’s for the taking now, and it’s clear T.I. is none too concerned about keeping hold of it.

Loosies

Lil Wayne – Killin Me (Prod by Heatmakerz)

Mela Machinko Ft Pharoahe Monch – Name In Lights

Smitty Ft Rick Ross, T-Pain & Junior Reid – Died In Your Arms [Remix]

Way Down Ft. RZA, Barbie Hatch & John Frusciante

Fabolous – Bossed Up

Loosies