“What has he done?
What has he done to warrant that? Does he have a classic album? No. Is he on
anybody’s top 10 list? No. Does he have any hardware on his wall? No.“
About a week ago, Jay-Z
said that about the Dipset “capo.” With
a new album on the way, Jim Jones
had the opportunity to change all of that. Hustler’s
P.O.M.E (Product of My Environment) is Jones’
latest, and offers more of what he’s known for. However, does it contain that
extra push to make him a contender? Or at least nullify Jay’s stinging words?
P.O.M.E. has a few
bright spots. The intro delivers a good start. Later, the Rell-assisted tracks (“Concrete Jungle,” “Don’t Push Me Away”) are
stellar in comparison to the rest of the album. Both actually some real content
and a breath of fresh air production-wise. “We Fly High” is by no means good,
but it is most definitely catchy and will be bumped by Dispet aficionados and the radio alike.
The album also brings forth a healthy amount of inexcusable pitfalls.
Throughout the LP, Jones allows Max B to sing the hooks. For an artist
being featured on eight or more songs, Max
B’s presence is highly noticeable, which is detrimental as is voice is
terrible and it ruins every song he touches. Jones does his fair share of butchering too with his adlibs. Adlibs
are meant to enhance, not distract. Anytime he mentions his lavish
extravagance, he has the urge to yell out “Baaallin’!”
Other times, he mentions cars and yells out “Speeeding!” He goes further by explaining his lines in the adlibs,
as if the listeners could not discern this on their own. “Cold sweats (Sweaty Sheets!) from bad dreams (Nightmares!).”
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This wouldn’t normally be a negative feature, but the fact
that he does it so much, for no real purpose, makes it downright annoying. If
he’s trying to capitalize on adlibs like Jeezy
did, go back to the drawing board, ’cause shit ain’t workin. While Jones does a fair job at using
multi-syllabic rhyme schemes, he fails to truly expand on the topics he
chooses. It would have been nice to hear more about why he is a product of his
environment and more of the sincere talk that is briefly heard on “Concrete
Jungle.” He named it Huslter’s POME
for a reason, right? Otherwise it should have been titled Baaaaallin’!
The beats range from dope (“Don’t Push Me Away,” “Pour Wax”)
to wack as hell (“Get It Poppin’,” “Love of My Life”) but even the good beats
are hurt by the aforementioned flaws of the LP. Sure, his voice can get
droning and his talent is extremely limited, but he could have made a statement
with this album. He didn’t. It will no doubt be a hit for those who have
supported Dipset for so long, but it
won’t appeal to many others. This sure as hell isn’t putting him on anyone’s
top-ten list.
