Vigilante Season may be the official debut from Max B, but the rap world has been familiar with Wavy Crockett for years now. Getting his weight up with Jim Jones and Cam’ron as a Diplomats affiliate and ByrdGang member, the Harlem emcee’s sing-song rhymes, undeniable choruses and comically mumbled delivery earned him a three-album deal with Amalgam Digital. Whenever he wasn’t flooding the streets with his mixtapes or guest appearances, he was holding hilarious interviews. Unfortunately, his “wave” settled at shore in 2009, when he began a 75-year prison sentence after being convicted of robbery and murder conspiracy charges. He claimed in a January phone interview that he may get out on appeal this summer and drop a double-disc, but all that the fans have for now is Vigilante Season, which he recorded in 2008 before going in. Though Season has its faults, its highlights are sure to frustrate the fans who only have an inkling of hope to hear more music from Max B.
Max’s excels as a hook man, but his personality fuels Vigilante Season‘s enjoyability. He doesn’t wow listeners with innovative content—women, weight, and whips are the focus here. Yet he croons, chuckles and “ow’s” his way into listeners’ hearts, or at least the back of their minds, on song after song. Beats from Dame Grease don’t hurt either, as the Harlem producer known for his discography with The LOX and Ruff Ryders offers an assortment of silky, synthy soundbeds—12 of the album’s 15 cuts—for Max to roll around in. “Where Do I Go (BBQ Music)”
and “Live Comfortable” are party-ready with their light-hearted vibes, and Max even seduces a robbery victim with his infectious voice on “I Need More Money.” “Please put your hands in the sky, if you wondering why, nigga you finna’na die/then get the cash, put it up in the stash, 200-plus on the dash, you see the roof in my eyes,” he carols during the chorus. When Grease showcases his grimy East Coast roots on songs like “Boss Don Season” and “Money Makes Me Feel Better,” Max keeps his strong hooks on-hand while toughening his delivery appropriately.
With production and choruses being Max’s primary strengths, Max’s bars aren’t particularly memorable aside from the occasional wisecrack. On that front, Vigilante Season could have benefited from more guest appearances by other emcees. Album opener “Model of Enthropy” succeeds by preceding Max’s rhymes with a capable 16 by Boston-bred lyricist Young Riot, and even the slightly above-average emcee Al Pac brings a welcome change of pace on “White Lines” and “You Won’t Get Far.” Still, verses from Max’s former Diplomats comrades, or any other notable NYC lyricists for that matter, would give this album a shot of extra replay value.
Lack of variety aside, Max B’s Vigilante Season is an enjoyable effort that holds up surprisingly well three years after it was initially completed. Here’s to hoping that more Max B choruses find their way out in months and years down the line.
