It’s almost spellbinding – hypnotizing, if you will. It’s like watching a car crash – it’s not something that happens every day, and it certainly isn’t something you ever anticipate will happen to you, but you can’t help and crane your neck as you pass. Right from the get-go, the album doesn’t mince any scenario that Biggie just floated away – the ER scene depicting the death of a gang-banger foreshadows the harsh realism that the record portrays.Īnd maybe that’s why it’s so interesting to a suburban middle-class white guy sitting in his basement drinking coffee. It’s especially hard given the senseless and tragic way in which he passed away. It’s hard to listen to this record and think about what could have been in terms of the volume of music. Remember the old days, when albums were like 10 songs long? Yeah, me either.
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