Having produced NWA’s Straight Outta Compton (key track: Fuck Tha Police), Dre stopped being political shortly afterwards. The old Dre would not have drowned a spluttering Kendrick Lamar on the excellent Deep Water. There is a demob-happy feel to much of Compton’s aural landscape, full of piano and brass, but enduringly bouncy on Genocide, a barbershop quartet interlude plays on the word “murder”. But Dre has become playful with age: the name of his former Death Row Records associate Suge Knight is followed by a dramatic “woah” a little chain-gang interlude jingles with detail. The knee-jerk misogyny and bellyaching are made endurable by two things: the album’s righteous tone, and the skill of Dre’s production, which retains the velvety ease of his imperial period. There is a demob-happy feel to much of Compton’s aural landscape, full of piano and brass, but enduringly bouncy The years tell on tracks like the filmic Loose Cannons – where a pleading woman is murdered – and Eminem’s Medicine Man, where quips about rape endure. He gets grief from record companies to finish stuff. Reminiscences litter tracks like It’s All in a Day’s Work or It’s All on Me, which combine flashbacks with weariness. Most veteran rappers dwell on their journey. Kendrick Lamar, Marsha Ambrosius and Candice Pillay)
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