The price of fame may vary per individual but the cost always has its consequences. For fifteen year rap vet Fat Joe, his longevity has been his gift and his curse. Adapting to identify with the newer generation has kept him relevant of sorts, but sacrificing his relationships with various Terror Squad members and an incessant feud with 50 Cent has given the Puerto Rican rapper a mixed perception among the fans. Still like a prize fighter counted out but not beaten, Joey Crack channels the animal within and vents on his eigth solo album The Elephant In The Room. Although there’s glimpses of the ‘Don’ of old, Elephant… does little to distinguish itself from Joe’s last couple of albums with overproduced songs that clash against his aggressive delivery.

Despite scrutiny, Joe Crack stands his ground adamantly on the inaugural bruiser “The Fugitive” with confident strides like “This is way to easy though/I am the magnifico/Cube at his prime/but I’m much more like Eazy though/…comes to Latino MC’s/there’s none bigger/now who’s gon’ tell me that I can’t say “nigga?…” while still finding time to boost his club résumé with the assistance from J. Holiday on the melodic “I Won’t Tell” and its polar opposite, the Swizz Beatz crafted “Drop.” And with Alchemist in tow and KRS-One portraying the supporting actor, “My Conscience” takes a cinematic ride inside the pits of Fat Joe’s inner psyche for several interesting perspectives. It’s been done before, but the two battle-tested MC’s pull in off rather nicely thanks in part to various doses of political incorrectness.

Still, Joe constantly insists on rapping over production that tends to overshadow his monstrous flows. The South may be bringing in the ringtone money, but audacious musical arrangements on an entire album doesn’t exactly bring the best out of Fat Joe. Streetrunner’s grinding basslines on the anti-snitch parable “K.A.R.” do nothing but offset the rhyme-laden flows that signify a credible rapper. Same goes for Pooh Bear’s terribly executed chorus and DJ Khaled’s catastrophe of a track on the inane “Get It For Life.” The epic “300 Brolic” is like the Bronx meets Sparta, with neither side giving leeway to the other, although Joey flows his way to victory in the brief battle for boisterousness.

But pure album filler such as “Preacher On A Sunday Morning” and the Plies featured “You Ain’t Sayin’ Nothin” (verbatim) hollow out the niche Joe has allowed his career to mold into: The Convenient MC. Uncompromising in his nature, but still flexible enough to follow the trends of the day without hesitation.

The DJ Premier reunion “That White,” comes in as an unintentional cogitation. When Joe Crack sticks to the more illusive production and focuses on making songs with signification, rather than trying to dominate the Southerner’s playlists, only then do we get the man who’s worthy of the title he insists that he carries. In the meantime, Fat Joe’s most likely to continue to experience the love-hate tokens of affection in the wake of this moderately commendable album. The Elephant In The Room definitely sounds like a thunderous herd, but ultimately it’s the same ol’ Joe.

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