Goodie Mob

When asked what makes for good press, Dr. Hunter S. Thompson answered, "war." The same goes for hip-hop, which is why Goodie Mob initiate a sonically destructive assault on their comeback. In 1995, when Soul Food dropped, Atlanta's mainstream hip-hop scene was in its nascent stages. OutKast had just burst onto the scene with Southernplayalisticadillacmuzik and MCs vented about the hard times gripping their communities. However, as time passed and Atlanta's crime rate dropped, the music business changed. More black-run businesses popped up, as white money flooded the city, and artists gained enough exposure locally to grow. Fast-forward ten years and you've got 2 Chainz exploiting the avenues paved by groups like Goodie Mob. That's what pisses Cee-Lo Green off: how artists come up in the business he built, but give so little back. Age Against the Machine, instead of setting a positive example, lashes out at the celebratory escapist trap aesthetic that's turned Atlanta into a black Hollywood. On "State of the Art (Radio Killa)," Khujo vents, "music with no substance, man, you might as well be dead," which would make sense if he offered an alternative. Instead, the Goodies scream/rap social criticism over what, at times, sounds like an Indiana Jones score and, at others, like knock-off El-P, Southern-fried electro. "Father Time" is a rare track on which the quartet reclaim their soul. As if trying to satisfy age stereotypes, Goodie Mob bitch about young 'uns partying and come across as curmudgeons in the process.