To fans who had followed LL Cool J since the ‘80s, this iteration of him must have been rather hard to imagine. By the time LL Cool J was back in the studio for his first album post-Def Jam, he was already four seasons into NCIS: Los Angeles. A whole new generation of rap fans identified him more as that buff and bald Special Agent than the guy who rocked the bells and knocked people out because his grandmother told him to.
It had been almost five years since Exit 13, an admirable effort that nevertheless crashed and burned on the charts. Up to that point, it had been the longest period between albums for Uncle L, which means he had quite a bit of brushing up to do.
It might have started from him hosting the 54th Annual Grammy Awards. In the liner notes of what would become his thirteenth studio album, LL Cool J writes about how hosting the Grammys inspired him to get back in the booth. In fact, he got to tell that to the Recording Academy all by himself.
LL Cool J set out to assemble his version of The Expendables—with him being the center of it all, of course—for the mission of creating the album that best reflected him at that stage of his life. In his words, “I don’t have to live in any box – even one I helped build myself.” Which would explain why eventually the word “hip hop” was struck out of the album title.
And as though that wasn’t enough, LL, though his company, LL Cool J Inc., teamed up with 429 Records, a subsidiary of Savoy Label Group that specialized in indie rock and adult contemporary rock music. Not hip hop. But hey, maybe he felt he was being a pioneer once again.
On April 9th, 2013, country singer Brad Paisley released his tenth studio album, Wheelhouse. Included on the album is a song entitled “Accidental Racist,” which features him, a white guy (obviously) walking into a coffee shop and offending LL Cool J, a barista who happens to be black (also obviously) with the combo of a cowboy hat on his head and a Confederate flag that’s emblazoned on his T-shirt. The white guy’s defense is typical: He’s wearing the shirt because, as a Southerner—Paisley hails from West Virginia—he happens to be a Lynyrd Skynyrd fan, and it’s a celebration of his Southern heritage, not because he wishes that slavery still existed, or that racism lasts forever.
However, it’s when it’s LL’s turn to respond that the whole affair truly goes south, pardon the pun. It’s bad enough that LL’s verse and ad-libs pander to Paisley’s stance, rather than truly challenge it, and that they bizarrely equate stereotypical dressing to acts and symbols of racial hate. They are also terribly written, with his outdated take on streetwear, staggering delivery, and baffling nod to both sides of the American Civil War, thereby belying the legacy of one of hip hop’s largest legends.
Well, surprise, surprise: “Accidental Racist” was widely panned by critics, and that sent both LL and Paisley on a media explanation campaign.
Actually, come to think of it, it was arguably mostly LL doing the explainin’.
LL might have put up quite a fight, but unfortunately, that didn’t help his case very much. “Accidental Racist,” for all the noise, controversy, and publicity, debuted at #77 on the Billboard Hot 100, and then disappeared the following week. It would be LL Cool J’s last appearance on the chart, and the song would overshadow the album that, after several release date changes, was due to drop three weeks after Paisley’s album.
Like “Accidental Racist,” Authentic, which saw the light of day on April 30th, 2013, was well-intentioned, poised to be the work of a more musically mature MC. Longtime collaborators Poke & Tone, formerly known as the Trackmasters, produced 7 of the album’s 12 tracks, with LL himself and songwriter and producer Jaylien Wesley also assisting behind the boards.
And of course, let’s not forget the army of guests and contributors, most of them legends from rap, rock, and R&B. It’s basically an LL & His Showbiz Friends album. Again, well-intentioned.
You’d think that this would give LL all the confidence in the world. But in the album opener, the synth thwomp of “Bath Salt,” he admits the following:
Honestly I was scared to come back
It was ugly not knowing how the game would react
He can’t be necessarily blamed for that. After all, LL had been away for almost five years, the longest interval of his career at that time. The refocus and rejuvenation of Exit 13 is gone. In its place is a shaky level of confidence as a rusty, 44-year-old rapper figuring out his current place in the record-buying market. As a result, Authentic swings irregularly from one setup to the next.
The second track, “Not Leaving You Tonight” feels like smooth rock, with indie pop band Fitz & the Tantrums in an unholy alliance with the heavy metal guitar legend Eddie Van Halen while LL interpolates “I Need Love” lyrics. Then it’s a trip to New Orleans with the appearance of Charlie Wilson and the marriage of brass, guitar thwacks, and intermittent claps in “New Love.” The party continues with the club-oriented “We Came to Party,” with Fatman Scoop hyping it up while Snoop Dogg delivers a forgettable guest verse. Then the record slows down with the chilly “Give Me Love,” where LL and Seal at least impress with poetic lyrics and emotive singing, respectively.
“Something About You (Love the World)” is overwhelming, blunting whatever little potency LL Cool J’s romance bars have. Charlie Wilson is back—this time, with Earth, Wind & Fire and Melody Thornton, formerly of the Pussycat Dolls. Everybody is surrounded by the grandiosity of the production, making them seem like they were at some Las Vegas residency or something. And the whole affair makes LL come off as a teenager annoyed that his parents are sitting with him throughout his date.
Snoop is back for “Bartender Please.” At least this time his performance is better (and, thankfully, shorter), and there’s Blink-182 drummer Travis Barker supplying a strong rhythmic backbone. And oh, Bootsy Collins plays the court jester. “Whaddup” is yet another guest-stuffed track: Chuck D supplying nothing but “Welcome to the Terrordome” lyrics for the hook, LL adopting an AAB rhyme scheme, DJ Z-Trip getting busy on the wheels of steel, and guitarist Tom Morello transporting everyone to the beginnings of rap-rock in the ‘80s. Is all this really necessary?
LL finally thins the herd towards the end of Authentic, even though the overall output continues to be bland. The sitar-and-organ-driven “Between the Sheetz,” featuring Mickey Shiloh, will never be mistaken for being the “Doin’ It” of the 2010s. “Closer,” which brings together LL and Monica—they notably had hits in the ‘90s traced to the same Detroit Emeralds bloodline—fares better. LL’s bars in particular sound sharp within the energetic synth beep-laden track that the Trackmasters and Jaylien construct from the song “I Like” by Guy. In fact, it’s where LL acknowledges his mortality as an artist and his longevity as an icon.
Not to be forgotten, Brad Paisley of all people shows us for “Live for You,” a comparatively harmless track considering, well, you know. It’s a favor-for-a-favor moment: a clean guitar-helmed, romance-centered country-meets-hip hop track that has the snap of a soggy piece of celery.
The whole affair ends on a somewhat high note, though, with “We’re the Greatest.” It’s LL Cool J, one of the greatest emcees of all time with Van Halen, one of the greatest guitarists of all time, and Barker, one of the greatest drummers of all time, in a confluence of smashing drums, guitar shredding, and the bombast of a rapper who ends each verse with a couplet that, once again, stresses his longevity as his ultimate achievement.
If I live to be 1-0-9, I'm still in my prime
If I don't then I don't, I'll live on in your mind
Authentic is a bewildering record. Granted, the making of this album was, let me say this one final time, well-intentioned. But the irony of an album like Authentic is that it couldn’t feel any more inauthentic.
For one, very little of what LL raps or raps about reminds the listener that this is actually an LL Cool J album. Secondly, there are way too many guests for a solo album. Like Todd Smith before it, Authentic only has one track with just LL on it. But Authentic’s 16 guests, even with one less track than its predecessor, surpasses the 12 on Todd Smith, and some of the guests show up more than once! Thirdly, there’s this Hollywood sheen across the album that feels like the equivalent of a bleached blonde with silicone breasts, indicating that LL had left Queens a long time ago; he’s more actor than MC now. And finally, the combination of these three factors renders Authentic devoid of any character; it’s so neutered that it makes a eunuch think he has the balls to laugh at it.
So, ultimately, Authentic became strike 1.) the least hip hop; strike 2.) the least LL; and strike 3.) the least essential LL Cool J album ever created.
And the public reacted accordingly. It became the worst reviewed and lowest-selling album of LL’s career up to that point, with no hits, hardly any replay value, and virtually no talkability—well, outside of “Accidental Racist,” which is not even on here.
Oh, one final thing: About four years later, 429 Records ceased operations when it was bought by the Concord Music Group, a Beverly Hills-based music company with distribution through the Universal Music Group. Another company under Universal? Def Jam.
