The first guest voice you hear on God Don't Make Mistakes, Conway the Machine's long-awaited major label debut, speaks volumes about where the rapper is coming from — and the lane he's striving to plow through. A raspy Beanie Sigel barks through the gloomy drugs-and-guns opener "Lock Load." The Broad Street Bully famously gave JAY-Z's Roc-A-Fella empire even more street cred. Since his wild heyday, Beanie's voice has changed. Wounded in a 2014 drive-by shooting, Sigel was rushed to the hospital. A removed lung left his voice hindered.
Conway, too, has had health struggles affect his rap flow. Shot in the neck and shoulder in 2012, the bullets left him with Bell's Palsy that paralyzed the right side of his face, sending him into mental spiral. So, when Conway (or Sigel, for that matter) dives into the unseemly traps of street life – greed, paranoia, violence, desperation, self-reliance – the listener isn't questioning bona fides. A blurted threat like, "I'm losing my marbles / Lettin' my AR go," carries weight because you can envision the man snapping for real.
What's great about Conway — and what's splattered all over his decidedly non-commercial commercial debut — is that the corner boasts come parcelled with introspection, regret and growth. The 39-year-old Griselda Records star has moved past his past, and yet, will forever be highly informed by the Buffalo, NY, struggle that shaped him.
Although GDMM's guest list sounds expensive (Lil Wayne, Rick Ross, T.I., Jill Scott) and the production credits are A-plus (the Alchemist, Daringer, J.U.S.T.I.C.E. League, Hit-Boy, Bink!, Cosmo), Conway's choice in beats hasn't wavered one iota since his mixtape days. Dark and brooding, this is a record built for a brutal winter in Upstate New York; for dudes who can't afford AirPods, but are rocking a hand-me-down bubblegoose while trudging along a snowy sidewalk.
Conway shares mic time with his old mates, Benny the Butcher and Westside Gunn, on the gloriously grimy "John Woo Flick," and his own proteges, Jae Skeese and 7xve, on "Drumwork." Despite his eagerness to be inclusive, the marquee artist's persona hogs this set.
Credit Conway for cranking out a smartly written collection of street rap and not stretching too far out of his zone just because he's now on Eminem's label. In other words, God Don't Make Mistakes avoids the mistakes some of Slim Shady's other find-and-signs have fallen victim to. That's due to an ear for dope beats in his wheelhouse and a willingness to, occasionally, get thug emo. To sometimes ignore the advice of an OG ("Keep those feelings in your chest / Just kill 'em with your success") and let us in to a pain that can resort to inflicting it.
Whether getting confessional about his come-up ("Wild Chapter"), wrestling with relationships ("Piano Love"), recounting his near-death experience with rawness ("Guilty"), or flat-out admitting to depression, alcoholism and familial suicide ("Stressed") Conway's voice bleeds throughout this star-studded affair — damaged as it is.
(Shady/Interscope)Conway, too, has had health struggles affect his rap flow. Shot in the neck and shoulder in 2012, the bullets left him with Bell's Palsy that paralyzed the right side of his face, sending him into mental spiral. So, when Conway (or Sigel, for that matter) dives into the unseemly traps of street life – greed, paranoia, violence, desperation, self-reliance – the listener isn't questioning bona fides. A blurted threat like, "I'm losing my marbles / Lettin' my AR go," carries weight because you can envision the man snapping for real.
What's great about Conway — and what's splattered all over his decidedly non-commercial commercial debut — is that the corner boasts come parcelled with introspection, regret and growth. The 39-year-old Griselda Records star has moved past his past, and yet, will forever be highly informed by the Buffalo, NY, struggle that shaped him.
Although GDMM's guest list sounds expensive (Lil Wayne, Rick Ross, T.I., Jill Scott) and the production credits are A-plus (the Alchemist, Daringer, J.U.S.T.I.C.E. League, Hit-Boy, Bink!, Cosmo), Conway's choice in beats hasn't wavered one iota since his mixtape days. Dark and brooding, this is a record built for a brutal winter in Upstate New York; for dudes who can't afford AirPods, but are rocking a hand-me-down bubblegoose while trudging along a snowy sidewalk.
Conway shares mic time with his old mates, Benny the Butcher and Westside Gunn, on the gloriously grimy "John Woo Flick," and his own proteges, Jae Skeese and 7xve, on "Drumwork." Despite his eagerness to be inclusive, the marquee artist's persona hogs this set.
Credit Conway for cranking out a smartly written collection of street rap and not stretching too far out of his zone just because he's now on Eminem's label. In other words, God Don't Make Mistakes avoids the mistakes some of Slim Shady's other find-and-signs have fallen victim to. That's due to an ear for dope beats in his wheelhouse and a willingness to, occasionally, get thug emo. To sometimes ignore the advice of an OG ("Keep those feelings in your chest / Just kill 'em with your success") and let us in to a pain that can resort to inflicting it.
Whether getting confessional about his come-up ("Wild Chapter"), wrestling with relationships ("Piano Love"), recounting his near-death experience with rawness ("Guilty"), or flat-out admitting to depression, alcoholism and familial suicide ("Stressed") Conway's voice bleeds throughout this star-studded affair — damaged as it is.