Bushwick Bill will forever be remembered as part of the legendary Houston-based group Geto Boys. In the late eighties and throughout the nineties, the GBs helped lay the groundwork for southern hip-hop, producing two gold-selling albums and a platinum album with their 1993 effort, We Can’t Be Stopped, which contained one of the greatest hip-hop songs of all time in “Mind Playing Tricks On Me” (a mental health record, way before mental health became a sexy subject). But when the Geto Boys weren’t making group albums, they were busy cultivating their solo careers. Scarface would have the most successful solo career out of the group, bearing fruit to an impressive body of work, including twelve solo albums to date (three of them earning gold plaques and three more platinum) and a plethora of classic records. Between 1989 and 2003, Willie D released five solo albums, including one of the most unintentionally funny albums of all time, I’m Goin’ Out Lika Soldier in 1992. Bushwick Bill would also play his hand in a solo career, releasing six solo albums between 1992 and 2009. A few years ago (eight to be exact), I bought and reviewed his debut solo album, Little Big Man. I wasn’t crazy about the album, but it wouldn’t deter me from checking out the rest of his catalog if it crossed my path. As fate would have it, about six months ago, I stumbled upon a copy of his second solo effort, Phantom Of The Rapra, for a few dollars, and here we are today.

I’m walking into Phantom Of The Raptra completely blind. I don’t recognize any song titles on the tracklist, but I am familiar with Mike Dean’s and John Bido’s names. They are long-time Rap-A-Lot affiliate producers and are credited with producing half of the album. That gives me hope that the music won’t sound as bad as the bizarre album title and cheesy cover artwork.

Continue to rest in peace, Bushwick Bill.

Phantom’s Theme – Soft, dramatic music plays while an interviewer asks Bushwick about the album title. Our host then explains how he likes opera, how opera and rap deal with the same themes, and that the same people who like opera (aka the whites) also despise rap and want it banned. The interviewer then responds with a follow-up question about the “Phantom” part of the album title, which Bushwick says is a secret. I assumed Bushwick was the Phantom since he’s wearing the Phantom mask on the album cover, but whatever. Then, out of seemingly nowhere, the interviewer asked Bushwick, “What are the secrets that are hidden in the temple?” Bushwick flips her question around and tells her to listen to the album to find out about “the secret of the hidden temple.” It sounds like the interviewer and the interviewee are talking about two different temples, or I’m just confused as shit.

Wha Cha Gonna Do? – After a quick poem about the “jungle creed,” Bushwick starts the night off on some psychotic, ready-to-die shit, discussing suicide, murder, and all things related to death: “I lets the muthafuckin fo-fo click/and that’s the end of that big bad nigga shit/how can you be afraid of what’s bound to happen?/You can’t run and try to hide from death/death is uninvited/it’s also at a shitty time/things can creep and snatch your ass up out your prime.” Bill gets distracted a few times along the way, going on random rants about chopping off child molesters’ dicks, and mothers who keep their sons away from their fathers (that rant made me chuckle a bit), but for the most part, he stays on the bleak task. Bido & Dean set the murderous mood with hard drums and menacing guitar licks that make Bushwick’s deranged act believable.

Times Is Hard – Someone going under the alias of Mad gets his first production credit on the album, completely changing the energy from the previous track with tender guitar chords and beautiful keyboard taps that sound like harp plucks. The soothing music helps Bill come down from his manic state as he gets vulnerable and discusses his past life of crime, drug usage, making money, living a lavish lifestyle before losing it all, his love and admiration for his mom, disappointing her with his actions, and being faithful to his lady. But through all the ups and downs, he stays optimistic (“I’mma make it out the ghetto if it kills me”), at least on this record. I thoroughly enjoyed the music and Bushwick’s honesty.

Who’s The Biggest – Bushwick’s Napoleon complex kicks into full gear on this record. The 3-foot 8-inch rapper (whose complex gets so intense during this song he claims to be 4’8) talks big shit (no pun intended) throughout his three verses, with the moral of the story being “Don’t ever underestimate a nigga with a giant size heart and king size trigger finger.” Bushwick’s threats and trash talk sound even more convincing, paired with Mad and CJ’s hard instrumental.

Ex-Girlfriend – Bushwick picks up where he left off on “The Other Level” from We Can’t Be Stopped (he even refers to this record as “The Other Level Part 2” at the beginning) as his ego has him thinking he can fuck all his exes and them being in new relationships is a challenge he welcomes: “Now I can still fuck all my ex girls/ I can give a fuck if they were Johnny Gill’s or even Keith Sweat’s girls/I can push up on your stunt/so you can ‘woo woo’ and ‘my my’ all you want/niggas get mad when they see the ‘Wick comin’/just because they bitch used to be my woman.” Bido & Dean lay down some cool southern-fried bluesy instrumentation to support Bushwick’s cocky misogyny, which left me wondering if I could…never mind.

Only God Knows – Bill grapples with his mental health on this track. He admits to struggling with self-worth, contemplates suicide, and ponders how and when he will ultimately die. The content is very dark, but the upbeat mood of the instrumental (built around a loop from Issac Hayes’ “Walk On By”) brings levity to an extremely bleak subject matter. Considering Bushwick is gone, listening to this record feels morbid.

Already Dead – Bushwick resurrects his Chuckie alter-ego as he plays a hopeless mass murderer who is ready to die. Swift gets his first production credit of the evening, soundtracking Bill’s, excuse me, Chuckie’s bloody bars with cheesy horrorcore instrumentation.

The Bushwicken – More of the Chuckie act on this one, or as Bill refers to himself during the first verse, Chuckwick. I have no idea what’s going on with the whole “Dr. Wolfgang, Von Bushwick, and the Barbarian Bill” thing, but I do know that Bido & Dean’s funky bassline and sensuous guitar licks made me immediately want to see something thick shake her ass and strip to this sexy instrumental.

Subliminal Criminal – Chuckwick spews more mundane mass murder rhetoric with his special guest, Sherm, while Mike Dean provides a cinematic thriller-esque backdrop that I thoroughly enjoyed. And this concludes the Chuckwick three-piece suite.

Inhale Exhale – Rapra was released in ‘95, so of course, it had to include the mandatory weed record. Bill invites his homies/inspiring rappers, Menace Clan, all the way from South Central L.A. to spew generic weed raps as they get high all over Swift’s slick, bassy backdrop.

Mr. President – Bushwick invites 3D from a group called RAG (I’ve never heard of them before either) to rap about the crookedness and hypocrisy of the United States government. 3D does the heavy lifting while Bushwick plays facilitator, calling out elected officials and a few historical American figures on their bullshit in between 3D’s verses. Bill closes the song on a loose cannon rant aimed at the white oppressors, past, present, and future. I appreciate the song’s sentiment, but 3D’s skill set and Freddie Young’s lackluster instrumental make this a hard listen.

Phantom’s Reprise – The interviewer from “Phantom’s Theme” comes back asking more questions, leading Bushwick to give some pseudo-deep meaning behind the Stars and Stripes on the American flag, which leads the interviewer to ask Bill where she should place her allegiance. Wisely, Bill tells her that only God knows, but then he goes into some spiel about illusion and people wearing masks to deceive others, so I guess that explains the Phantom part of the album title, in a weird oddball from left field kind of way. They end the interview back on the “secrets” and “hidden temple” riddle with Bushwick giving the big reveal, which leaves the whole thing sounding like a “Who’s on First?” joke. And we’re done.

Based on Bushwick’s previous solo outing and the cheesy album title and artwork cover for this one, I was a little nervous about what Phantom Of The Rapra would sound like. Bushwick’s convoluted explanation of the album’s title on the opening track increased my fear, but once I heard Bido & Dean’s gritty southern instrumentation on “Wha Cha Gonna Do?” my concerns began to decrease, as I was sure Little Billy was in good hands.

On “Phantom’s Theme,” Bushwick Bill tells the interviewer that the album would be full of content that covers sex, rape, violence, incest, and suicide. While he never touches on incest (which he may have conflated with molestation, which he does briefly talk about during “Wha Cha Gonna Do?”), he does deliver on his promise to tackle the rest of the topics, with a strong emphasis on violence and suicide. Bill spends most of the album in his Chuckie alter-ego persona, spewing psychotic manic-depressive threats to others and himself. He does snap out of his manic state to get vulnerable on a few tracks (see “Time Is Hard” and “Only God Knows”), high on another one (see “Inhale Exhale”), political on one song (“Mr. President”), and of course, he leaves room for a little misogyny (“Ex-Girlfriend”). The Chuckie bit gets a little redundant, but overall, Bushwick’s easy-to-follow rhyme style delivered in his semi-deadpan flow proves effective. But even more effective than Bushwick’s bars is the production. I was excited to see John Bido and Mike Dean’s names as producers in the liner notes, and they more than lived up to my expectations. I wasn’t familiar with the other names: Mad, CJ, Swift, and Freddie Young, but for the most part, they match Bido & Dean’s energy, collectively creating an impressive soundscape for our host and his guests to rhyme over.

Phantom Of The Rapra is another example of why you shouldn’t judge a book by its cover or title. It’s a vast improvement from Little Big Man (so much so it makes me want to go back and listen to Little Big Man again to make sure I didn’t miss something) and a solid album with a bullshit theme sandwiched in between a perplexing intro and a laughably bad outro.

-Deedub

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