Though far from compromised, and still brimming with bravado, Jay uses Kanye’s incredible manipulation of Bobby Blue Bland’s “Ain’t No Love in the Heart of the City” to allow listeners a glimpse of his disappointment and estrangement. “Heart of the City” revisits the same slings-and-arrows addressed on “Takeover,” but this time from beneath Superman’s bulletproof exterior. Even the biggest Nas and Prodigy fans were hard pressed to disagree with his assessment.Īt that point, with listeners tightly in pocket, seeing the world as he does, Jay opens himself up for the rest of the album in a way that he never had before. Unlike most battle rap, it skirts the jokes and jabs and simply called attention to his rivals’ career missteps. The greatest diss record of all time, “The Takeover” absolutely dismantles the competitive peers who made attempts to capitalize on Jay’s waning affection from the public. to address, in short order, each and every one of his woes. In the very first song, “The Ruler’s Back,” Jay draws connection between himself and the greats by invoking the language of Slick Rick and the Notorious B.I.G. From its pointed choice of roots-hip-hop soul samples (courtesy of Kanye West, Bink, and Just Blaze), to its chest-beating self-congratulation, to its candid autobiography, all the way to its spartan, linear sequencing, the album is everything a great rap album should be, and, perhaps as importantly, nothing that it should not be. Said to have been written in two days and recorded in a fortnight, The Blueprint was just what it claimed to be. But these crude forays only hinted at what was to come. And then, more acutely, on The Dynasty, his crew album from the year before, where he ventured into more personal exposition and more soulful, sample-based production. 3 where he lashed out at oncomers-daring them, inviting violence, reminding listeners of his proximity to the street. In retrospect, bread crumbs to The Blueprint’s topical and musical themes can be found first on Vol. Jay Z had to make The Great American Rap Album. Jay could be the King of The Post-Biggie “Jiggy” Era, or simply, the King. He knew, as well as anybody, that this album would be a tipping point. With all of this on his mind, that spring, Jay Z absconded from New York to a recording studio in Miami to meditate on what he believed had to be his magnum opus. The weight of his own growth, of his own grandeur, threatened to collapse on itself. Most troubling, his wins had begun to sour not only his competitors-Prodigy and Nas, principally-but also the fickle fans who had once celebrated his ascension. His actions-be it his alleged gun-toting, his admitted stabbing of Lance “Un” Rivera, or his rumored romances with women like Blu Cantrell-became the subject of gossip and repercussion. He was experiencing a new level of accountability, too. His life was indeed changing-in a couple years he’d gone from 560 State Street to a condo (presumably, now, with more than just condoms in it) in New Jersey A hundred-and-nine-thousand in dirty cash to taxable millions. Jay Z was quietly beset by all of the above. Instead, difficulties: change, scrutiny, and, unfortunately and inevitably, envy. And he’d done it with cold-blooded nonchalance and emotional efficiency, sharing a very limited amount of himself along the way.īut success is a breeding ground for many things, happiness not always among them. His unstoppable force had obliterated every obstacle in its way, leaving a string of former problems and a pile of rap history in its wake. Five successful albums (some more critically so, others more commercially) in five years. The drug dealer-turned rap phenom-turned reluctant pop star was enjoying unprecedented success in the spring of ’01. Rap’s best analogy for Superman, Jay Z was faced with a similar narrative dilemma in 2001, and responded in kind on his sixth album, The Blueprint. How much drama can you weave into a story about a man who fundamentally cannot be beaten who does not lose? Yet, his tale has been rendered to extremely moving and thoughtful ends by the most sophisticated authors in the genre (see: Alan Moore's Whatever Happened to the Man of Tomorrow?, among others.) The trick is in exploring the relationship between the conflicts on both sides of our hero's impenetrable skin. It’s been said that Superman is a particularly hard comic book to write.