Gorilla Zoe

What can you do with an album that contains a thoroughly Auto-tuned diss track called "Shit on 'Em" consisting of one scatological synonym for its title after another? You could relate it to Gorilla Zoe's moniker and make reference to apes throwing their own feces as a sign of aggression, but it's probably best to acknowledge its weirdness and move on.

Either you'll be amused or you won't, and the two sides can't really argue with one another. The Atlanta rapper mostly seems to be trying to step into Young Jeezy's shoes. Both come from the same town, were in the same group (Boyz N da Hood, where Zoe replaced Jeezy) and address many of the same concerns. Although Zoe isn't really a more upstanding citizen than Jeezy is, his songs on this sophomore album reflect a less nihilistic outlook. Perhaps it's the effect of the Auto-tune, which is used liberally throughout. How can you be that dangerous of a street dude if you're singing your heart out on a song called "Echo" or sweetly crooning that you're "So Sick" of phonies sporting designer labels?

Some of the less melodic, more rhythmic tracks succeed as well. "Man I," for example, isn't a terribly sophisticated Horatio Alger story, but it shows that producer K-Rab, responsible for "Laffy Taffy," has grown considerably. It's got a nice, layered piano line that coexists well with percussion, whispers, and some electric noodling. "Lost" seems to be Zoe's biggest hope for a Kanye West-type smash, relating his fame-produced insecurities and fears in a slow, gravely chant over a dark, soft beat courtesy of Drumma Boy, but it lacks originality in its subject matter and becomes repetitive.

If Zoe has a real strength, it's the versatility of his voice, which can transition easily among numerous sub-genres within the hip hop world, but his relatively weak lyrical content isn't compensated for enough by the musical aspects of his work.

—Hillary Brown
04.23.09

With his coarse voice and claim to be "A-Town's Hannibal," rapper Gorilla Zoe came on the scene as a fine alternative to Rick Ross. His breakthrough single, the thug anthem "Hood N****," made perfect sense, but then a guest shot on Yung Joc's quirky hit "Coffee Shop" seems to have knocked something loose. At its best, his sophomore release Don't Feed Da Animals is a bold, "Coffee Shop"-inspired attempt to try something different within the realm of gangsta rap. At its worst, it's redundant, or more likely, cringe-worthy. While "Hood Clap" and the handful of other attempts to re-create "Hood N****" are easy enough to ignore, it is tracks like "S*** on 'Em" that really hurt with their "I doo-doo/I pooh pooh/I s*** on 'em" choruses. Elsewhere "They give me no answers/Following the wise/But they're walking in Pampers" drags down "Lost," a heartfelt song about loneliness that would work splendidly if it wasn't for the diaper talk. Things heat up in the second half as "Man I" does the Mike Jones and "Back Then" thing in style. Then there are the three Drumma Boy productions, two of which -- "I Got It" and "Watch Me" -- are the usual club crushers, hook-filled and infectious as always. It's their third collaboration, the ambitious, Akon-sized closer "Echo," that really satisfies and makes the listener wish the previous set of admirable but flawed tracks had been given one more rewrite, preferably with fewer references to doo-doo and pooh. ~ David Jeffries, Rovi