Ol' Dirty Bastard

In the intro, he declares himself the greatest performer since James Brown, dedicates the album to a girl who gave him gonherrea and proceeds to spend the next 16 tracks rapping, scatting, rambling, burping and ultimately skeeting all over the listener's expectations. The album's production -- supplied by RZA -- is similarly visceral, disconnected and brilliant. ODB was twisted, but he was also a genius, and this album is a testament to both of those qualities.

Yacub's worst nightmare as comedian, moral threat, and nut case, the former Russell Jones walks that three-dimensional tightrope not with grace, and not with hope, either. With faith, maybe--even charity. Certainly with an irrepressible commitment to his own history and culture, however sublumpen the sociology of class and race judges those to be. His compulsion is to turn an absence into a presence. His clownish explosions distance him from how f*cked up the violence and pleasures of his culture are and appear, respectively, and his clansmen show us how complex and full of fun their treasure is. "I'm the baddest hip hop man across the world," he sputters, the prized fool in the court of King RZA. (Grade - A-)