Magna Carta… Holy Grail
Jay Z
Distributed by Universal
ay Z’s Magna Carta… Holy Grail invites the listener to experience the war the artist is waging with himself—not in the sense that a profound auteur is pitting his psyche against his work, but rather Jay Z’s tired lyrical themes seem to be holding back an album that would otherwise be excellent.
The album’s production is simply top-notch. Interesting beats and well-placed instrumental themes can be found anywhere on the album, and Jay Z’s many collaborators mesh seamlessly into the fabric of the record.
Unfortunately, the lyrical themes of wealth and glory are starting to wear thin. Jay Z’s previous collaboration with Kanye West, Watch the Throne, was acclaimed for its incredible self-awareness about rap and celebrity culture, but at this point it seems as though the trope is growing old fast.
“Tom Ford” is the biggest culprit of this crime, as literally the entire song is a name drop for luxury fashion desire. Jay Z raps with the hook “I don’t pop molly/I wear Tom Ford.”
The lyrics are also dragged down by their constant stretch for symbolism. Be it through classical art or religion, it seems that Jay Z is seriously aiming for profundity, but landing far off the mark. For this look no further than his clunky re-telling of religion on “Heaven.”
The honour of weakest lyric doesn’t go to Jay Z however, but instead to collaborator Rick Ross, who raps “I just landed in Europe nigga/Shopping bags I’m a tourist nigga.”
Yet for all the lyrical weakness, the song’s musical backgrounds are nothing short of fantastic. “Picasso Baby” has lyrics that are nondescript at best, yet it carries a heavy, thick musical energy thanks to a grinding bass line set beneath countless subtle loops and samples.
Musically speaking, no song on the album beats “Somewhere in America.” The song opens with a raspy, upbeat big band trombone loop, and then Jay Z makes things interesting by looping airy classical piano samples behind the trombone. The result is a song that sounds like it should be awkward beyond belief, yet somehow works perfectly.
“Crown” is carried by low grating synthesizers, and builds in a slow climb to a dramatic ascending death march of a finale.
The strongest song on the album comes near the end.
“Jay Z Blue” is a surprisingly relatable song about Jay Z’s struggle as a parent.
The album closes off with “Nickels and Dimes,” a song which is reminiscent of the album as a whole—lyrics that could be a lot better, but an impressive piece sonically.
