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One thing can be
said for upcoming Atlanta rapper Yung Joc. Nobody
saw Brad Pitt doing the Snap dance, or George
Clooney A-town stomping. When increasingly
frightening mega star Tom Cruise shocked national
television audiences by doing Yung Joc's dance,
"The Motorcycle", it introduced the twenty-three
year old to a national audience.
The dance,
featured prominently in Joc's club-banging first
single "It's Going Down", is a simple as can be,
as not to exclude anyone, especially those
sometimes rhythmless fair-skinned folks, from the
fun. Unfortunately, the same can be said for the
rest of Joc's debut album "Yung Joc City".
Although signed to P. Diddy's burgeoning Bad-Boy
South label, for better or worse, the mogul's
presence is non-existent. Instead, we are left
with the rather standard A-town fare. The album
starts off promising enough, in the introduction
"New Joc City," "Man, I gotta switch up cuz my
trap on fire / It's hot like the thermostat on
high." Joc has a has an almost effortless delivery
(read: Mase with a country twang), and his
production does not try to take him far out his
comfort zone. However, compared to the everything
else out right now, he falls far short in his
goals. If he has any.
In some songs, such as "Do Yo Bad" and "Don't Play
Wit It", he attempts to show his prowess in the
trap, but without the same credibilty and wit as
fellow Atlanta native Young Jeezy. "Dope Magic" is
rather decent, yet unremarkable fare, while
"Patron" advertises everyone rapper's favorite
tequila brand with one of the lines from "Going
Down" to masquerade as the hook. Once again, Jeezy
comes to mind all throughout the song, "Kush by
the seven, I call it Michael Vick."
The album reaches its zenith with "I'm Him", where
Joc's brogadaccio and clever lines allow him to
overcome another rather static beat. "Hear Me
Coming" features Joc giving more shout-outs than
good lines, and the rest of the album is mindless
appeasement to the ladies and the trappers.
Probably the most disappointing part of the album
is that it fails to be anything really. It is no
where near the tight production and clever
lyricism of T.I.'s "King" or the finger-popping
simplicity of Dem Franchise Boyz' "At the Top of
Our Game,". Instead, does not try to hard to focus
on one style and subsequently fails to suceed at
any. |