Last King 2: God's Machine

Last King 2: God's Machine bears an unfortunately portentous title for what it delivers: essentially, it's a mixed grab bag of Big K.R.I.T.'s various guest spots over the last year, on a series of iffy-to-forgettable indie rappers' records. It's the first utter non-release K.R.I.T. has allowed his name to touch in a career otherwise built on stringent quality control. His handsome, still-resonant full-length mixtape Return of 4eva came out just last April, and his high-profile Def Jam debut Live From the Underground lies just around the corner. God's Machine adds almost nothing worthwhile to this conversation, except to introduce the first noticeable wobble in what has otherwise been a flawless slow-burn brand-building campaign. Worse, the mixtape presents K.R.I.T. in his weakest, most anonymous light: as a rapper on other people's songs. While he's ferociously talented, K.R.I.T. just isn't the type of rapper to muscle his way aggressively into another rapper's universe: he's best left to himself, where he can settle into a rich background of his own nostalgia-steeped production like sitting back in a rocking chair. God's Machine paints him, unfairly, as just another serviceable, UGK-biting rapper currently clogging up Southern rap-blog feeds. The song choices are mystifying: no one in the world needed to hear K.R.I.T.'s tacked-on verse to Berner's "Yoko", rapping alongside Chris Brown, but here it is. No one needed to hear him sharing air time with Cyhi Da Prince. But here that is too ("Hometeam"). There are a few genuine sparklers strewn throughout-- "Fulla Shit", a perverse boasting session with Yelawolf and fellow trailer-trash white speed-rapper Rittz, is one of the year's most satisfying rap songs. K.R.I.T. acquits himself admirably while still, lamentably, getting out-shined by the flamboyant personalities flanking him. The same goes for the chunky rap-rock crossover number "Born on the Block"-- after Killer Mike lays waste to the track, there's not much left for K.R.I.T. to do but show up and stay in the pocket. The humidly bluesy "The Big Payback", which opens the mixtape, is the most characteristically K.R.I.T. thing here, consisting of nothing but K.R.I.T.'s agreeably platitudinous raps laid over electric organ and some looped voices. It's over in less than two minutes, but it's the most reassuring reminder of his artistic imprint to be found on God's Machine. On "The Big Payback", K.R.I.T. self-importantly reminds us that his name is an acronym for "King Remembered In Time." The name doesn't jibe -- there's nothing particularly pharaonic about his presence-- but the touch of self-mythology is a reminder of the fascinating transition K.R.I.T. is undergoing. Over the past year or so, he has been slowly embracing his role as the savior of the conscious-rap underground. It shows signs of suiting him nicely, but the transformation has been fitful: on Return of 4eva, generic country-rap-tune bangers about candy paint and mentions of pimping split time awkwardly with powerful, impassioned treatises like "Another Naive Individual Glorifying Greed and Encouraging Racism". The impression was of an artist stranded in uncertainly between the UGK revivalism he started with and the early-era Common figure he might become. A more combustible on-record personality might be able to fuse these strands, but K.R.I.T., an affable, low-key guy, mostly sounds confused. God's Machine feels like a symptom of that confusion, which will hopefully clear up in time for Live From the Underground's main event. (By Jayson Greene; August 31, 2011)