To describe NeMo as a “producer’s producer” would not be far from the truth. Better known by the stage name IMakeMadBeats, this east coast transplant has built up his sound throughout the last decade while moonlighting as a deejay and engineer. And yet here we are in 2011, with the masked-man’s debut compilation IMakeMadBeats.
AD LOADING...
The 13-track album features a healthy line-up of established acts and under the radar emcees who have gained the confidence of the producer. With that said, the success of each record on IMakeMadBeats hinges on the artists’ ability to put NeMo’s back drops to good use. Take for instance “Revenge NYC,” where Steele of Smif-N-Wessun, O-Smash and Wayne White tackle the heavy production with braggadocios chatter of street militancy. Then there’s the slow, melancholic mood of “Twisted Heart” which sets in when MidaZ the BEAST describes a lustful tale that spirals out of control after cheating on a faithful wife. Caught in the act, MidaZ miserably recounts the outcome of his sinful deed: “Why you scream date rape? Seconds from bloody horror / For that my wife left me, my son don’t respect his father / A nigga lost his house, his job and now they got me in prison garb / Why you leave me stranded with a twisted heart?”
Other results are less impressive. On “Heard Of Me,” Detroit’s famed producer/rapper Black Milk delivers a verse that hardly shows off his lyrical progress since Sound Of The City. His track-counterpart Butta Verses doesn’t fare any better as he spends too much time describing his “super nice flow” without leaving enough evidence on the table. With “Triple Jeopardy,” it initially starts off as a creative concept; rappers IDE, cRITCAL and Alucard go back and forth about a contract dispute with a talent agent. But with no hook or break in between rhymes that clash against a chopped voice sample, the story line becomes cluttered.
AD LOADING...
Despite the lack of consistency from the rhyming side, IMakeMadBeats is rarely out of his element. Delivering a crisp, soulful production for “What’s It Gonna Be” that’s built on church organs and steady drums, the record climaxes with a chorus you’ll be humming for days. Taking it back, “365” is reminiscent of ’90s Jazz-Rap (think Pete Rock) mixed with a little bit of J Dilla, NeMo’s grand influence. As other producers stick to one style for fear of failing, this assortment of musical range weighs heavily in IMakeMadBeats’ favor, a testament to his time spent in the studio.
While the overall execution of IMakeMadBeats could have been tightened up, NeMo lays out a decent foundation throughout for listeners to preview his style, which likewise may catch the ear of budding emcees that are searching for a new dynamic record. On that note, the album would have been just as potent had it been released as an instrumental project that showcased the producer’s talents. No pun intended, but IMakeMadBeats may never get the proper face time and exposure he deserves. Just know that somewhere around the country, someone is scrunching up their face from the nastiness of his production.