Snoop Lion – Reincarnated

Snoop Lion – Reincarnated
RCA: 2013

Snoop Lion. We’ve known about Snoop Dogg’s transformation for some time now, but such is the affection held for him that, even after such a relatively long gestation period between announcement and release, there are going to be a lot of people who simply won’t be able to resist giving his apparently righteously minded new alter ego at least a cursory listen.

This is also the reason that what could for many others be a major gamble, (an abrupt and sudden shift in perspective and genre) is for him a relatively risk free gambit; whether it be for his on-mic skills or, more likely, his instantly recognisable Cali drawl and relentless likability, Snoop seems to always be coasting on apparently inexhaustible reserves of good-will in some circles, whatever seemingly ridiculous endeavour he tries his hand at. “Snoop Dogg’s a Rasta now and is releasing a Major Lazer-produced reggae album? Haha. Dope. Kinda makes sense I guess.”

Reincarnated is one of those albums that to many is its context. To some it will be a source of amusement, to some a curio, to some a genuinely eagerly awaited release. But for better or for worse people will be listening to it because of its back story, because of the circumstances of its release, which makes how good it actually is sort of an afterthought. When it comes to that, some will be relieved, and some I wager will be a little disappointed; Reincarnated, stripped of its position as a non-rap project by one of the world’s best known rappers, is no train wreck, and is ultimately a pretty well constructed, at times very fun, modern reggae record despite its flaws.

Even though he’s switched from his iconic West-Coast twang to a gentle, not always on key croon, Snoop is still a pleasure to listen to. But when Reincarnated really gets great, which at times it does, it’s more often than not through the merits of Snoop’s chosen collaborator and musical architect, Diplo’s Major Lazer. The music gifted to Snoop here is not lo-fi, dusty Trojan Records style reggae, but a slick, modernized version that takes influence from all of the broad genre’s various offshoots, just what you’d expect from an accomplished and knowledgeable musical magpie.

“Here Comes the King” successfully mixes old school Lee Perry-style bounce with winding, modern-dub inspired bass foolery, “So Long” attempts to channel Exodus-era Bob, while “Fruit Juice” interpolates Wayne Smith’s much embellished, oft-utilised “Under Me Sleng Teng” groove. Best of all might be “Lighters Up”, a song that combines an insistently muscular swing with one of the album’s most memorable choruses to great effect.

Elsewhere, the album musically looks a little more outward, and the results are more mixed. Snoop sounds great on the Drake and Cori B featuring “No Guns Allowed” riding nifty samples of Beirut’s “Nantes” and Gorillaz’ “Clint Eastwood”, but Reincarnated flounders a little when conspicuously aiming for Major Lazer’s classic club-minded modern dancehall on “Get Away”; it maybe would have sounded great on their album but it sounds clumsily shoehorned in here amongst a set of tracks that sound nothing like it. The album also tails off towards the end; Miley Cyrus guests on the twee and overly anthemic “Ashtrays and Heartbreaks”, while “The Good Good” brings to mind nothing if not Jason Mraz. These aren’t the things you want to hear after a surprisingly competent attempt at a number of authentic reggae styles, but fortunately they don’t number particularly high and aren’t bad enough to totally derail the project.

So the Snoop Lion project thus far would seem to generally be a success; he hasn’t created a definitive statement, but he would have been naive to think that he would have done. What he has created is an album that assembles talented individuals and effortlessly exudes the love of its craft. While it could sound gimmicky, it actually seems entirely earnest; Snoop isn’t trying to fool anybody.

This earnestness can be a hindrance, though. In adopting this new persona, he’s also taken on board the positivity and, much worse, the cod-philosophising that can turn people off to much slick modern reggae. Context plays a big role here too, and is definitely part of the problem; it might be one of the highlights, but it still seems trite hearing one of the nation’s most beloved gangstas suddenly preaching spirituality and crooning on a song entitled “No Guns Allowed”. There’s also an issue of quality, too. If he’d made a career out of this kind of stuff, he’d probably be able to tackle it a lot better, but as is his attempts at coming across like some kind of peaceful guru figure just sound ham-fisted and loaded with empty platitudes.

This, along with the ease with which he apparently slipped into his new persona, and his continuing beef with Bunny Wailer, may continue to fuel worries about cultural appropriation which are certainly legitimate. By teaming up with modern music’s king of cultural appropriation, he’s shrewdly managed to come up with a record reasonably genuine and solid enough to allay those concerns in the many people who probably weren’t taking them too seriously anyway, but it’s certainly no knock-out blow to the naysayers. It’s simply not good enough to silence all of them. Still, those looking for amusement here are probably going to be let down, but those who come out of curiosity or excitement and can stomach the more record’s more saccharine missteps might just end up leaving with a smile.

2.5 out of 5