The beef: Kanye vs 50 Cent
September 24, 2007 —
Kanye West and 50 Cent are regulars on the hit charts, sell millions of albums, and are among the most notable personalities in the entire music industry. But who is the true heavyweight of hip-hop?
Whether looking at fairly recent "beefs" between the likes of Jay-Z and Cam'ron or going all the way back to the breakup of NWA and subsequent feud between Dr. Dre and Eazy-E, virtually every era of hip-hop has housed its share of discord.
Various reasons spark these conflicts, but ego is always a universal factor.
Not surprising, considering the foundation of rap was built on a braggadocios demeanor.
Even less surprising is the recent media-fueled strife between two of rap's biggest egos, 50 Cent and Kanye West.
The two have butted heads before. In 2005, 50 made claims he was the reason for West's success.
He's also accused Kanye of making "safe" music.
Despite 50's growing irrelevance to hip-hop, he continues to view himself as the top dog in the industry.
When it was revealed both artists would release their respective third albums on Sept. 11, 50 dismissed the idea of West outselling him, going as far as to bet his solo career on it.
West accepted and when the dust settled a week after the albums' release, one thing was clear: 50's LP was the loser, both sales-wise and artistically.
West's Graduation moved an impressive 957,000 copies, while 50's Curtis only sold 615,000 units.
Sales aren't everything when judging musical quality, but the pair of albums proves that Kanye is hungry to evolve, while 50 is comfortable living in a state of complacency.
If it wasn't obvious before, it is now: Churning out an assembly line of tracks about guns, money, and violence doesn't mask the reality that it's 50 who is making the safe music.
Graduation
Maturity isn't a trait typically associated with Kanye West.
The rapping super-producer's idiosyncrasies and penchant for publicly pouting are about as well-known as his body of work. Nevertheless, his third album, Graduation, shows marks of sophistication lyrically and musically.
While not quite on par with his sophomore classic, Late Registration, Ye's latest effort is his strongest structurally - noticeably absent from Graduation is the stream of skits that disrupted the flow of his first two LP's.
West continues to be among the most innovative producers in hip-hop today, and shows no signs of settling: A mish-mash of sounds and concepts fill the album.
"Stronger" and "Flashing Lights" are notable examples, the former with its techno-inspired framework, and the latter with its use of synthesizers.
Kanye's habit of incorporating an eclectic list of guests in his songs continues, although the results vary. Maroon 5's Adam Levine and Coldplay's Chris Martin compliment the songs they appear on, while Mos Def's unorthodox singing on "Drunk and Hot Girls" is another example why the emcee should return to rapping.
The non-West-produced "Barry Bonds" features production akin to mix-tape filler, and the track isn't assisted by a lazier-than-usual Lil' Wayne, an ironic guest, considering his extensive mix-tape catalog.
Signature West production traits like piano melodies and the sampling of vintage soul songs are prominent on the standout tracks "Homecoming" and "The Good Life."
Unlike competitor 50 Cent, West is clearly eager to evolve artistically. That desire only strengthens his case as a future legend of hip-hop.
Curtis
Originally titled Before I Self Destruct, the cover of Curtis "50 Cent" Jackson's junior album, Curtis, depicts an anguished, humanized Jackson.
But as it goes, you can't judge a book, or in this case, album, by its cover.
The 17-track outing is nothing we haven't heard countless times from 50, a disappointing squandering of an opportunity to add a layer to his persona.
The uninspired production and fact he's spitting rhymes on regurgitated topics create the sense he's taking steps back creatively, even though he's really just running in place.
In case anyone forgot, 50 makes sure to remind listeners of his gangster status with tracks like "187," "Fully Loaded Clip," and "I'll Still Kill."
"When my name in ya mouth, better watch how you talk / I'll send ya punk a--to therapy to learn how to walk" he calmly boasts on the drone "187."
"I Get Money," one of Curtis's few strong points, shows 50's charm hasn't completely evaporated.
Referring to the lucrative buyout of Glaceau, a company he had a partial ownership in, by Coca-Cola, he brags, "I take quarter water sold it in bottles for two bucks / Coca-Cola came and bought it for billions, what the f---?"
No doubt 50's swagger remains fully intact, despite a rapidly-fading star.
It's that refusal to show any dents in the armor, however, that may prove his musical undoing.

