The cover and title of Busta Rhymes' [click to read] latest full-length, Back On My B.S., suggest the Long Island (by way of Brooklyn) emcee is attempting to recapture the fun-loving energy and off-the-wall antics of his platinum-plus career prior to 2002's disappointing It Ain't Safe No More. With 2006's much more polished, Dr. Dre overseen, The Big Bang [click to read], the former leader of the Leaders Of The New School dramatically toned down his wild woo-haness for less colorful club bangers and a newfound penchant for playing up his "hungry for street shit" BK badassness. But at least that gold-certified project was engaging, in both sound and speak. Unfortunately, its follow-up, Back On My B.S., is not. Continuing in the same dull direction as Busta's recent all-original material mixtape-before-the-album I Bullshit You Not [click to listen], B.S. is almost entirely comprised of uninspired soundscapes matched by Bus-A-Bus' uninspired rhymes.
After helming that underwhelming street release, more unexciting production courtesy of DJ Scratch surfaces on Busta's eighth studio album beginning with the what-the-hell-were-they-thinking intro, "Wheel Of Fortune." The failed comedy of the track's operatic opening set to "Beethoven's 5th Symphony" gives way to disjointed drums, aimless sample stabs and equally directionless rhymes from Rhymes. EPMD's [click to read] former deejay continues his less than stellar boardwork with "Imma Go & Get My..." On the yawn-inducing selection, muddied synths serve as the foundation for Busta to pointlessly take ice-grillers to task and Mike Epps to reprise his lottery ticket scene from the long-forgotten Ice Cube flick All About The Benjamins.
But the sonic lowlight on B.S. is credited not to Scratch, but instead to The Neptunes [click to read] for "Kill Dem." The disgraceful Dancehall attempt is so unbearable to listen to (both its horrid reggae-style rhymes and riddim) that one can't begin to understand how the song ended up a part of the album's final tracklist. Running a close second for the most shake-your-head-in-confusion-and-disgust moment on B.S. comes via the album closer, "World Go Round," a disturbing dance number with an anemic Estelle chorus.
But at least Jelly Roll's work on that track is only mismatched with its receiving artist, and doesn't sound like it was just thrown together in a matter of minutes. The same can't be said for most of the high profile producers that helm the album and their inexplicably amateurish backdrops. Auto-Tune enthusiast Ron Browz gives Busta no return on the spitter's surely expensive investment with the paltry clap-and-808 club confection "Give Em What They Askin For" (Bus-A-Bus' hyena-voiced squealing on the song's chorus only serving to make matters worse). And surprisingly, Grammy-winning Timbaland prot