(Cash Money/Universal Motown)

His sixth CD if you don’t count a hajillion mixtapes

Lil Wayne made his name guesting on more songs than anyone, but not knowing when to shut up isn’t the same as having something to say. He opens the doors on his subconscious and the words just trip out. Sometimes the results are surprising, flat-out amazing, but he has no quality control because he has no control at all. What he needs is a really good editor, but what he has is an audience starved for anything different and happy to lap up his rubbish. The obnoxiously oozing vocoder-pop single Lollipop is a perfect example. Others include Playing With Fire, which shows that even for a rapper he’s got a crazy inflated ego (“So assassinate me bitch / ‘cause I’m doing the same shit Martin Luther King did”), A Milli, which repeats its title about a million times and a couple of thickly buttered soul-touched songs. Wayne’s better at being nasty than nice and when he tries a love song or sympathises with Hurricane Katrina’s victims between soul-crooning hooks it sounds sickly instead of ill. The mad inspirations that make him worthwhile are here but scattered – the opener declares that he can’t be stopped even if they stop him and Dr. Carter makes his guest appearances into doctor visits where he slips vocabulary into the IV of lesser rappers. A closing fireside chat about issues of the day returns to the painful. Given how relaxed his delivery is when he raps, hearing him talk and sound as stiff as a small-town commercial is plain embarrassing. Like at least half the rest of this album.

** ˝   

JODY MACGREGOR

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