If you could take pre-Africa Dave Chapelle, Too $hort prior to his trip to the dentist, and vintage Andre 3000 before Ms. Badu, then roll 'em all into a Houston rap artist, you’d have the closet thing to Hip Hop’s first ever rap clone. Yet, who wants an imitation when you can have The Dude who may have just advanced a notch on the “destined to blow” list (a list he’s rested upon long before rumors of a forthcoming Dr. Dre-produced album left heads holding their breath) with his latest offering, Waiting to Inhale? Arguably one of the most slept talents in the game, it is Devin’s natural self-deprecating character and penchant for articulating the complex subtleties of the seemingly mundane that makes one wonder if mass appeal has ever been a goal of the former Odd Squad front man.

For all those yearning for a few bars dedicated to flaunting the spoils of capitalist exploits, I encourage you to keep searching because Waiting rests at the opposite end of all things ostentatious. While other artists might commit their most moving metaphor to an elaborate description of a shiny new watch, Devin delivers relevant punch lines about a former high school cheerleader who went from “elegant to elephant” (“She Usta Be”) – punch lines in such abundance you might question if the gifted MC missed his comedic calling. His lazy delivery coupled with a laid-back drawl and sing-song cadence makes it seem like his flow actually rhyming is purely coincidental to his intent to bend ya ear for a minute. Not many artists could get away with a chorus that likens the “cleanness” of his sex organ to lima beans “Broccoli and Cheese”, but it’s precisely this off-brand humor that provides the levity that’s been sorely missing amidst the tough guy posturing we’ve grown accustomed to in hip hop.

Hence, the decision to open his most acclaimed album with barely coherent mumblings about a random encounter with a “working girl” whom he’s determine to persuade to forfeit her usual fee (“She Want That Money”). Ironically, it’s when Devin puts the jokes aside that you truly appreciate his versatility. One of the album’s strongest cuts comes courtesy of a song that looks at the industry from a perspective rarely glamorized in the videos. On “What a Job”, Devin, Snoop, and Dre (Outkast) almost make the trials, tribulations, and small triumphs of the rap game relatable. “Lil Girl Gone” pairs an extended piano riff with the raspy rants of Mr. Feature himself, Lil Wayne. Harmonious symbiosis showcases yet another side of The Dude as he bats clean up behind Texas legend Bun B. Aside from 2 tracks that close the album on a rather experimental note, there are few joints that don’t make Waiting worth your while.

Listening to this album is like eavesdropping on the one cool uncle after the family BBQ as he reminisces with his peers over a couple of cold ones. Similar to Big, Devin’s got a story to tell. And it’s a story that often focuses on the two Ws the artist seems most preoccupied with - women and weed. The blatant misogyny inherent in the sexually explicit humor is guaranteed to offend some and provide feeble ammunition for pundits desperate to blame music for the racist and sexist rants of a certain repressed redneck and the rest of the world’s ills for that matter. But put in its proper context, it’s the source of what makes the album truly special. Devin finally has production worthy of his charm, and a supporting cast to affirm his respect in the industry. Now if only Devin would embrace his status as that dude…

-- KyZen