It’s now safe to say that Mama Said Knock You Out will forever be the pinnacle of LL Cool J’s long and illustrious career. The next stage of LL’s career involved him working to stay relevant and avoid being seen as some relic from the 1980s. After his first exercise of self-reinvention became a success with Mama Said Knock You Out, the reception to his second was not as favorable. The gangsta pretentiousness that LL used for 14 Shots to the Dome was so uncharacteristic of him that even some of his core fans stayed away from it.
So, while LL Cool J finally got the big break to showcase his acting chops alongside the other Mr. Smith, music was still his first calling, and it was time for him to adapt once again. Mr. Smith, LL’s sixth studio album, was set up to prove whether this cat figuratively had nine lives.
East Coast rap was going through a renaissance, and Bad Boy Records was king, with Puff Daddy handling the reins and his most valued artist, the Notorious B.I.G., riding over smooth R&B- and soul-influenced beats in his landmark debut Ready to Die. Notably, LL Cool J reached out to a producer who had a hand in Biggie’s album: Easy Mo Bee, around the time he got on the remix for Craig Mack’s “Flava In Ya Ear.” And yes, Easy Mo Bee was kind enough to produce “Life As…,” which initially appeared on the soundtrack for the Street Fighter movie. But he ended up not being the major beatmaker on LL’s next album. Rather, that honor went to Jean Claude “Poke” Olivier and Sam “Red Hot Lover Tone” Barnes, who are collectively and better known as the TrackMasters.
Now, the TrackMasters were not exactly known as the most loved producers on the block. Oh no, quite the contrary; they were usually maligned for their “commercial” sound, which usually relied heavily upon R&B samples. In fact, they would catch a lot of flack for “ruining” Nas’ sophomore effort, It Was Written, in 1996. But it didn’t look like LL cared. After all, the TrackMasters had been pretty hot since the early ’90s, even getting some work done on Biggie’s album. And Marley Marl, as great as he will always be, was no longer the producer du jour. Once again, LL needed a sonic update, and the TrackMasters were the flavor of the moment.
Thus, the TrackMasters hopped on board, becoming co-executive producers and producing about half of Mr. Smith, which came out on November 21st, 1995. And LL brings the lyrical goods as usual, alternating between his two main personas. This time, unlike the hardcore feel of 14 Shots to the Dome, the brightest moments are the songs he has for the ladies.
He could not have done it any better than with “Hey Lover”. Bar none, it’s the best love song LL has ever done. Yes, it’s better than “I Need Love.” No, none of those cheesy organs here; the TrackMasters loop a lush sample of Michael Jackson’s “The Lady in My Life” and invite Boyz II Men for the show. And although his daydreaming and poetry are still in place…
Swimming in a timeless current of pure bliss
Fantasies interchanging with each kiss
… he’s no longer an innocent teenager. This time, LL is a defiant coveter.
It was Harlem, at the Rucker’s, I saw you with your man
[…]
We caught eyes for a moment, and that was that
I gotta take you from your man – that’s my mission
If his love has really got to handle competition
Throughout the song he has this calm voice, like as though he’s accomplishing all he’s talking about with enviable ease. And Boyz II Men even scat and moan beyond the chorus, backing up the Ladies’ Lover with his verses and carry on as the song fades away. It’s truly breathtaking in its reposefulness and beauty. If hip hop is not known for producing baby-making music like R&B, “Hey Lover” comes dangerously close. This is unarguably the best rap ballad ever made.
But of course, there’s LL’s carnal side, and that’s duly represented in “Doin’ It.” Think of it as the sequel to “Back Seat,” but a little more explicit. Still, LL does not resort to employing any vulgarity; that’s where the beauty and genius of this song lies. It still is mainly about implication, not graphic details. Rashad Smith provides the beat: a series of reverberating keyboard sounds (thanks to Grace Jones’ “My Jamaican Guy”) over a syncopated drum kit, which is sufficient to heighten the sensual atmosphere as LL trades bars with female rapper LeShaun. And of course, who can forget the moan-soaked chorus?
[LeShaun]: Doin’ it and doin’ it and doin’ it well! (3x) [LL Cool J]: I’m representing Queens, she was raised back in Brooklyn!
No rapper can and has made a song of carnal pleasure that surpasses or even matches the quality of “Doin’ It”. No one. None. Zero. Zilch. Absolutely negative. After all, James Todd Smith doesn’t call himself “Ladies Love Cool James” for nothing.
Too bad the more popular and better version of “Loungin’” is not here, though. Instead of getting that melodious dance-oriented number featuring Total (the “Who Do You Luv” version) the listener is served with an airy keyboard-sounding beat with completely different vocals. On the LP version of “Loungin’,” in which Terri & Monica interpolate the melody of Al B. Sure’s “Nite and Day,” LL is a lot more straightforward (e.g., I’m nasty / Ask me, why I lick my lips / So in the darkness, I can run my tongue over your tits!”). Consequently, “Loungin’” does not have that power of “Hey Lover,” “Doin’ It,” and “Who Do You Luv.” But that’s relatively minor, as LL’s sexy side is perfectly represented here. Indeed, the Mr. Smith era marked the apex of LL Cool J as the ladies’ man. Maybe him getting married around that time had something to do with it.
Moreover, he manages to squeeze in a few inspired and creative moments that have less to do with the opposite sex. “Hip-Hop” is a moving dedication to the culture and music “that [he] admire[s]” and is a big part of. And “Hollis to Hollywood” is a metaphor-riddled extravaganza, LL amusingly utilizing movie titles to narrate a story.
As good of a loverman LL Cool J proves to be in Mr. Smith, the same can’t be said for his image as a battle rapper. Overall, it’s a mixed bag. The influence of 14 Shots to the Dome was still pretty strong. For the first time in his career, he uses the N-word and curses extensively. So yes, 14 Shots to the Dome was influenced by gangsta or hardcore rap, but at least he wasn’t cursing like a sailor like he does here. For that sole reason, songs like “Get da Drop on ‘Em” and the title track are somewhat unsettling to listen to. Even when he tries to be sarcastic and satirical with “No Airplay”—in which he curses endlessly, then has the curse words edited—he instead sounds rather silly and unconvincing. And the PG-rated ones—“Make It Hot,” “Life As…,” and “God Bless”—are too indistinguishable and uneventful to pay any mind, even if none of them are technically bad songs.
Sure, he dazzles with a nice line or two every now and then. For instance, in the title track, he spits couplets like “I got the magnetic, energetic, lyrical calisthenic / You better call a medic ’cause you look pathetic!” over the horn- and organ-driven slickness of the beat. Speaking of which, part of the blame can be laid at the foot of the TrackMasters for giving him the same silky-smooth instrumentals used for the ballads, thus blunting the sheer power of his battle-ready bars. It’s generally and awfully clear, however, that LL Cool J, a full decade after his album debut, is not quite “hard as hell” anymore.
But thankfully two numbers in particular work, and they’re essentially two versions of the same track. “I Shot Ya” starts off with these rapidly tumbling piano notes, and then there’s this sinister union of warm, sharp pad sounds and spaced-out piano stabs over a steady drum beat. It’s the suitable backdrop for LL’s battle rhymes; and for once, that facade of pseudo-gangsterism he erects is tolerable, complete with Keith Murray yelling a line from “I’m BAD” for the chorus. Thanks, TrackMasters … and Chyskillz.
However, it is the remix at the end of the album that outshines the original by a mile. This time, Keith Murray, and Prodigy of Mobb Deep, Fat Joe, and Foxy Brown are in the house to drop guest verses. Everybody does great, but no one can steal LL’s thunder. As the last one up, he barges through them all and steals the entire show, immediately reminding everyone about who he has disposed of lyrically, especially considering that his main rivals in the ‘80s were either faded or fading by the mid-‘90s.
What the f**k? I thought I conquered the world:
Crushed Moe Dee, Hammer and Ice-T’s girl!
Once again, LL, with props due to the TrackMasters, pulled himself out of the abyss of doom, making it an unprecedented second comeback. Mr. Smith was double Platinum by the end of 1996. All three of its singles peaked as Top 10 pop and R&B hits, with two of them eventually certified Platinum. And “Hey Lover,” which peaked at #3 on the Billboard Hot 100—and turned out to be his biggest hit—won him his second Best Rap Solo Performance Grammy in 1997. Mr. Smith is not necessarily a remarkable album; it has too many middling moments that prevent it from being so. But it contains some of the strongest singles of his career, as well as some spots here and there that remind us of why he’s a hip hop great in the first place.
With Mr. Smith, LL Cool J officially became the chameleon of rap: an emcee who was able to successfully adapt to hip hop’s ever-changing climate while more of his peers from the 1980s, some of whom even came out after him, were dropping off. Even Kool Moe Dee, Hammer, and Ice-T’s gir- sorry, Ice-T can agree with that.
