Wu‐Tang Forever by Wu‐Tang Clan
Wu-Tang Forever is the second studio album by American hip hop group Wu-Tang Clan, released June 3, 1997, by Loud and RCA Records in the United States. Pressed as a double album, it was released after a long run of successful solo projects from various members of the group, and serves as the follow-up to their debut album Enter the Wu-Tang (36 Chambers). Forever features several guest appearances from Wu-Tang affiliates Cappadonna, Streetlife, 4th Disciple, True Master, and Tekitha. The original run of compact discs featured an enhanced CD which allowed users to walk around the "Wu Mansion" and access additional content (see also Blue Book (CD standard)). Music and lyrics Production While the group's previous album is known for its minimalistic production style, producer RZA had been expanding the musical backdrop of each solo Wu-Tang album since then. Raekwon's Only Built 4 Cuban Linx..., in particular, was praised for its cinematic feel. RZA earned accolades for his new dense style of production, incorporating strings, heavy synthesizers, and the kung-fu samples of old. The production of the record also pioneered RZA's technique of chopping up and speeding up soul samples so that it becomes unusually high-pitched; this style of production would later become influential on producers such as Just Blaze and Kanye West. Wu-Tang Forever marked the first group album in which RZA assigned some of the album's production to Wu-Tang protégés True Master and 4th Disciple, as well as Wu-Tang member Inspectah Deck.
<b>100 Best Albums</b> In 1993, the Wu-Tang Clan were a grim, grimy, grindhouse alternative to G-funk’s baroque gangsta cinema: If Dr. Dre’s lush, lowrider-ready grooves were <i>Terminator 2</i>, then the scratchy, bloody, distorted productions of RZA on their debut album were <i>Reservoir Dogs</i>. Emerging from New York City’s most underrepresented borough—the literal island of Staten—here was a sound that, by nature or nurture, existed in its own raw, unapologetic bubble: corroded soul breaks, snatches of dialogue and sound effects from arcane turn-of-the-’70s Hong Kong kung fu flicks, distended keyboard lines, tape noises, snaps and stutters.<br /> Wu-Tang emerged as a nine-member crew in the post-MTV age of small cliques, a mix of styles and voices that eventually carried more than a few solo careers: The violent beat poetry of Raekwon, Ghostface Killah and Inspectah Deck; the drunken sing-to-scream ping-pong of Ol’ Dirty Bastard; the $5 words and scientific flows of GZA and Masta Killa; the boisterous coaching of RZA; the gritty rasp of U-God; and the fame-ready slick talk of Method Man, who was already getting a star turn on his eponymous track. Though melancholy reminiscences like “Can It Be All So Simple”, “C.R.E.A.M.” and “Tearz” made a trilogy of evocative narratives, the Wu provided few easy inroads to their mythology and poetry. Instead, America was forced to enter <i>their</i> chamber, a lyrical swarm of hip-hop slang, the Five-Percent Nation’s Supreme Mathematics and skits that sounded like taped conversations. They brought a singular ruckus and everyone from the similarly crew-oriented Odd Future, the wordy Logic, the mafioso-fuelled Pusha T, the wild-styled Young Thug and the noisy Sheck Wes all owe different types of gratitude.
