PROPS

REASONABLE DOUBT
A decade after its release, Jay-Z's opus stands as raps most riveting reflection of a hustler's life.


All I really need to know I learned in kindergarten. But all I need to know about the grind, I learned from Reasonable Doubt.

And I'm not alone. When Shawn Carter stepped to the mic over 10 years ago to record his debut album, his talent and audacity established a template for a whole generation of hustlers turned rappers who crawled out of the woodwork and pored over Jay-Z's slingin' curriculum. Which isn't to say they didn't earn their stripes in the street--it's just that you wouldn't know it from their lyrics, which have regurgitated Jay's vernacular, insights, and observations so many times over that his once groundbreaking images are now hip hop cliches.

At the time of Reasonable Doubt's release, Biggie, Boot Camp, and Mobb Deep ruled with stories of block wars and life lived in a four-by-four grid. Just like Nirvana made hair metal obsolete, Jay's don persona, combined with his sheer rhyimg skill and bravado, made other rappers look like bottom-feeders. On "Friend or Foe" and other tracks, he detailed out-of-state operations that clearly identified himself as highter on the food chain than your favorite rapper. He lived on a scale that was previously unimaginable. "Partna, I'm still spendin' money from '88!" he announced on "Dead Presidents II," then pointed to his knowledge of the finer things in life on numbers like "Feelin' It" and "Cashmere Thoughts."

It wasn't just his Big Willie-ness-excuse me, William-ness--however, that set Jay apart. While Biggie and Tupac admitted to the suicidal ambitons of a rider under pressure, Jay stepped back from the glory of the game and revealed the emotional toll of ugliness. He allowd himself to be vulnerable on songs like "Regrets" and "D'Evils," where the wrestles with the consequences of money and violence on life-long friendships. With "Can I Live," it's themes of isolation and suffocation paranoia capture feelings of desperation with an honestly rarely seen in rap.

Unfortunately, his sons and grandsons trace his design without understanding the underlying structural integrity that makes Reasonable Doubt stand tall ten years after it release. And listening to them gets te-di-ous, so young' uns, please, for the sake of hip hop, keep one eye open, like CBS.

written by Noah Callah-Bever for Vibe Magazine