Tim'm West continues to inspire, provoke, nourish and stun.

By David Jones

 

"In Security:: The Golden Error"
Tim'm West

 

Over the MLK weekend, Tim'm T. West, celebrated author, poet and lecturer, added his own shout to the historic echoes reverberating around Washington DC with his new CD In Security: The Golden Error. Any follower of West is irretrievably spoiled; the mere presence of his name in any of his chosen media guarantees works of surpassing excellence and thunderous artistic weight. Although Mr. West's talent is nothing new to me, I was truly caught by surprise.
 
I have never heard a CD with such an astonishing opening sequence of music. Against the Grain, Walking Contradiction, Hit Song and Stutter contain more lyrical beauty in four songs than most so-called rappers manage to cram in an entire album.
 
There are other gems; F Word is his answer to all the proud queens wondering if there is a place for them in the struggle. The broad content of his artistic self education allows him to avoid the musical myopia of most rappers and instead of the same tired samples we hear in every other hit rap/r&b song, the ear is teased with ravishing melodies.

One of the reasons West's work is so compelling is that he actually possesses a voice. In the rap field, where raspy, raggedy cat-like yowling and low-pitched dog growls pass for street cred, West's silken, manly baritone, perfectly projected, effortlessly produced, dripping both testosterone and a plaintive, bluesy vulnerability, is balm for sore ears.

His Arkansas roots are evident in the floating, precise slowness of his delivery; he is out to be understood, not show off how fast he can spit out words. If he ever decided to quit the rap game and go into journalism, his warm, powerful, fatherly speaking tones would revive the title "the voice of God". Then there is his singing. As we say in the church, the man can sang. His sharp ear creates mahogany quartet chord backgrounds for his razor sharp lyrics to bounce off of and the effect is entrancing.

He has at his command the traditional colors in the rapper's arsenal, anger, defiance, a pugnacious audacity, but I was delighted to hear, especially in the tracks You Tell Me and Old School a quality hip-hop abandoned long ago: unalloyed, almost child-like joy, a flow and melody that create a silvery "let's dance tonight" atmosphere. I mean really, when is the last time hip hop made you smile? Do I love this album? Hell Yeah. In the words of the interviewer in the first track, Get Into It Honey!