Ludacris

Oh, Ludacris. While all artists have their upside and their downside–Kanye has his breathtaking artistic ambition and his rampant egomania, Jay-Z has a mind made for writing great things but the tendency to write about nothing, Nas has a pen for the most incredible rhymes but an ear for the most lackluster beats—none are farther apart than Chris Bridges'. For every awe-inspiring rhyme exercise like "Southern Fried Intro" you get the insipidity of a "Money Maker." For every "I Do It For Hip Hop," you get a "Nasty Girl"–the list goes on. It's frustrating listening to him, knowing that he's got a really awesomely bizarre classic album rattling somewhere in his head, and yet feels fine dropping snoozy trash like "Contagious."

And so goes Theater of the Mind. There are flashes of brilliance, a chunk or two of mediocrity, and a whole lot of good songs. Which is fine, I guess. But the clock is running out on Ludacris' time to drop that career-defining classic album that all other great rappers make, and I'm beginning to lose faith that he'll ever do it. It's not that Luda can't spit that heat when he wants to, of course. On "Undisputed" featuring Floyd Mayweather, he keeps the rewind button on standby with punchline after punchline. And on "MVP" he obliterates a typical DJ Premier track, begging you ask why they haven't collaborated before. And "I Do It For Hip Hop" is the crown jewel of the album, a stunning collaboration with Nas and Jay-Z, a track emblematic of what this album could have been–a head down, pen-sharpened plunge into the art form that has made Ludacris a star. Over a slightly somber, back-in-the-day beat, the three trade verses about their love for hip-hop. It's a star-studded affair, and while none disappoint, Jay-Z comes through with one of the best verses of the year, briefly stealing the show from the main act. Looking at the resumes of the three artists on the track, though, you can't help but feel that Luda doesn't deserve to be there–that he hasn’t quite earned his stripes to hang with Nas and Jay-Z yet. Luda definitely has the skills to hang with the best–it's just that he seems less concerned with being a legend than a star, a glaring fault that shines through on each successive album.

If this album were to come from almost any other rapper, I'd be happy–Theater of the Mind has solid beats, decent rhymes, a couple of superb guest spots, a smattering of fantastic tracks, some lyrical diversity, and a relatively inoffensive album concept. But coming from Ludacris? Someone who can eviscerate even the most complicated and intimidating of beats with an ease that turns even the most hardened and cynical rap fans into a slack-jawed mess? Ludacris can do better than this–and I just keep on hoping that he someday will.

—Matthew Mundy
12.03.08

Calling its guest vocalist co-stars and kicking-off with a "the movie's about to begin" intro, Ludacris' Theater of the Mind is dressed-up as some conceptual piece but this hodgepodge of high-gloss tracks just barely sticks together. While his previous effort, 2006's Release Therapy, was much more the thematically tight album and deserved a concept, this loose set of tunes is all-together more entertaining, thanks in no small part to a highly inspired Luda and all the punch lines he lands. Most are unquotable jokes that sound nothing but filthy when taken out of context -- especially the one about rappers so full of something they end up "rhyming in farts" -- but the superstar team-up with T.I. called "Wish You Would" boasts about "So many shoes that my closet look like Finish Line" and brings other reminders of "Pimpin' All Over the World" and its unashamed vision that wealth equals victory. Speaking of reminders, "Call Up the Homies" is a slower version of "the gather up the crew" number with Luda and special guest the Game trading lines in the style of 50 Cent and Eminem's "Gattman and Robbin'," or Snoop Dogg and B Real's "Vato." The only innovation on the track is the working in of Willy Northpole, a new hire at Luda's DTP label who has his international debut ushered in by giants. The whole Luda universe -- a place where albums are now just part of the picture -- gets involved as Hollywood weaves in and out, and a Chris Rock routine that questions the rapper's appearance at the Oscar's is brilliantly flipped into the self-deprecating "Everybody Hates Chris." Ving Rhames doing the James Earl Jones thing, the Floyd Mayweather appearance, and Don Cannon's Edwin Starr meets karate film production on "Undisputed" are other amazing moments, and while the Lil Wayne, T-Pain, and Chris Brown collaborations are all completely unsurprising, they all come with rock-solid hooks. Tacked on the end is a genuine and moving wake-up call where Luda, Common, and Spike Lee ask the urban youth to leave the 40s and the cocaine game behind. "I see the sunshine/Gazing through the windowpane/Blazing like indo flame" is how Luda sells a better life to the kids, proving this very smart, smart aleck may not be as hungry as six albums back, he's hardly a sellout on autopilot. ~ David Jeffries, All Music Guide