Rick Ross: Mastermind

- A major reason why the legendary rappers are just so great and so enjoyable to indulge in is their strangely innate ability to successfully mix personality with talent. Carrying with them a persona that is larger than life. A godlike presence and aura that separates them from the overwhelming majority. Like Biggy, Tupac and Eminem before him, Rick Ross has always been almost a caricature of himself. His huge, thick beard and deep sultry voice makes him appear like the Barry White of rap. A man that could soothe the souls of a million angry snakes. Ross is literally larger than life. A man on the dizzying verge of being able to wrestle a bear or just drop dead at any point on any given day. Deepening Ross’ mystique is his fairytale career path, the "Teflon Don" has battled his way from a no-good bum to the tippy-top of the rap game: the classic rags to riches story. The MC rose from lowly prison guard to multi-millionaire in less than 10 years. Once he achieved success it seemed like the Miami rapper's stock could turn sour at any point, but despite all common sense fingering Ross for an entertaining but, finally, throwaway rapper - Ross, over the years, has only gotten better, more relevant and respected with time. His last release, the only slightly disappointing God Forgives, I Don't was perhaps the first sign of the big man coming up for a little air. The record wasn’t quite as well rounded as previous efforts, trying to please too many masters, wrestling higher and weightier expectations; it seemed like Ross was at breaking point. Sixth LP, Mastermind, is Ross trying to pick up some of that momentum again, but in the first few listens Mastermind feels a little limp and uninspired. Ross’ bark often outperforms his bite. Where once he had a Tony Montana-esque inspiration and motivation, it starts to feel like he’s calling it in from his opulently appointed pad. I get it Rick Ross, you're a big fat rich hero. I'm Joe Schmo. Like the big fat hero he is though, Ricky Rozay refuses to lay down dead. On repeat listens I begin to warm to Mastermind. Despite its inherent flaws, Rick Ross is still Rick Ross, and there's still some part of his voice and delivery that warms me from the inside out. Half of this I'm totally down with. Half of it really gets me down. There's a constant nagging that this record could be much more. Like Ross' last attempt there's more than enough to like here and when he hits his stride he starts to resemble the best. He just fails to hit his stride enough. The bonafide star power here (see: Kanye West and Lil Wayne) feels pointless, tired and only there to move units. On the other hand, the one trick pony and expectation free French Montana works that one trick with the mindless skill of an idiot savant. Mastermind fails to answer any of the questions it raises. It's a curious, enjoyable and relatively insubstantial rap release that keeps Ross hovering in rap purgatory. Not that I want Rick Ross to pass away, but sudden death might be better than this wounded limping. Ross is a rap enigma that keeps me coming back for more, but for how long? - Jay Edwards.