Del The Funky Homosapien 11th Hour

[Def Jux; 2008]

Styles: old school-ish hip-hop on the positive tip
Others: da Lench Mob, Heiroglyphics, Deltron 3030, Gorillaz, Souls Of Mischief, Lost Boyz, Casual, De La Soul

Del Tha Funky Homosapien is in a very unique position, because very few young listeners know him for him. Like a poor-man's RZA, Del has spread his seed so thoroughly that his solo career has taken a hit. And, like RZA, it's taken so long for Del to come correct that many are wondering who, exactly, he is. And finally, like RZA, now that Del is deigning it time to be the center of attention, it's uncertain whether that's the best role for him. Of course, it's complicated.

I remember interviewing Del a few years ago, in 2003. Even then he was talking about 11th Hour, and his words didn't instill a whole lot of confidence in me. He was preoccupied with learning music theory and acted impatiently when I -- with what I assumed to be the appropriate amount of hesitancy -- asked him whether he felt he had followed through on the hype resulting from his Gorillaz appearance and Deltron 3030 juggernaut. He also appeared concerned with his place in the hip-hop world, reminding me of his MTV exposure in the early ’90s when I mentioned his relatively low profile.

Worst of all, I sensed that he didn't understand how important said solo LP was to his momentum at the time (and still it was FIVE YEARS LATER, when 11th Hour FINALLY dropped). However, in retrospect, I think Del knew damn well that the stakes were high, mellow disposition or no. Why else would it have taken so fucking LONG? Short of Chinese Democracy ridiculousness, is it even possible to spend eight years making an album? If overthinking wasn't the impetus behind the delay, what was?

And where's his sense of humor? We get tiny tastes of levity, but scarcely the sort of wit we're used to. Instead, Del takes more of an elder-statesman tact on 11th Hour. He talks directly to the listener at times, like he has in the past, only now he sees the listener more as a competitor than an observer. "Why do you think that you are all that?" he continually drawls over the way-too-Juice sndtrk, Big Daddy Kane bells of "Bubble Pop," only to answer his question with a quaint reply: "you ain't."

Along with belittling his bloated hip-hop brethren via battle-raps, Del strikes a blow for the old school, using samples and beats straight from the last year we heard him solo: 2000. Sometimes it works in his favor ("Foot Down," "Workin' It"), sometimes it doesn't ("I'll Tell You," "Back in the Chamber"); we'd be left with a moot point, but the punchless production drags 11th Hour down further.

Just as you're becoming frustrated with these trends -- round, say, cut no. 6 or 7 -- Del will start to work his magic on you. Just as before, you'll want to like him, and his languid, lukewarm delivery, and next-level lyrics will give you every opportunity. And there's the rub -- "like" and "respect" aren't always synonymous.

Something tells me you'll get over it and see this veteran artist for the innovator-dominator-narrator he is. At this point, Del might shine best while sharing the spotlight, but his solo guise is alive and well too, at least (and I'll take 11th Hour over Birth of a Prince any day).

Most Read



Etc.