After the success of It Takes A Thief (1994) and Gangsta’s Paradise (1995), Coolio was a bona fide superstar. Both albums would earn platinum plaques, and together, give the Compton rapper four top 40 singles. His rise would continue in 1996, as he won a Grammy Award for Best Rap Solo Performance (“Gangsta’s Paradise”), and he’d score another top 40 hit with the lead single from the Eddie Soundtrack, “All The Way Live (Now).” In 1997, the rapper with the signature gravity-defying braids would look to build on his already meteoric momentum with his third solo release, My Soul.

My Soul would continue Coolio’s production by committee approach, with a few familiar names pitching in (i.e., The Wino and Stan “The Guitar Man” Jones) and some names I’ve never heard of before reading the liner notes. The album would produce another Top 40 hit, but none of the singles would be as massive as “Fantastic Voyage” or “Gangsta’s Paradise.” Without a huge hit record, the sales would suffer. My Soul would reach gold status, which is success for most rappers, but when you’ve set the platinum bar with your previous works like Coolio, gold is a disappointment. My Soul would end Coolio’s situation at Tommy Boy, and though he would continue to release music on independent labels, it spelled the beginning of the end for his fifteen minutes of fame. Sadly, Coolio would pass away on September 28, 2022, from a drug overdose at the age of 59, serving as another reminder that time is illmatic.

If you read this blog regularly, then you know I’ve followed Coolio since his days as part of WC And The Maad Circle. It Takes A Thief and Gangta’s Paradise weren’t classic projects, but I found enough dope records on both to deem them entertaining. This review marks my first time listening to My Soul, and I’m hopeful it follows the trend of his previous works.

Intro – Things begin with a man finishing his shower, being confronted by another man with the stereotypical, diabolical, devilish laugh, who informs the freshly clean man that he wants his soul. My interest is piqued. Let’s see how the storyline unfolds.

2 Minutes & 21 Seconds Of Funk – Coolio uses a funky bassline and slippery wah-wahs (courtesy of Stan The Guitar Man) to warm up for the evening and spends the entire one hundred and forty-one seconds spewing randomness. His charisma makes it digestible, but it completely abandons the opening intro.

One Mo – 40 Thevz joins Coolio on this hot mess of a record. Mr. Dominique De Romeo’s Zapp-esque funk backdrop is decent, but its force sounds like it’s waging war against Coolio, P.S., and Leek Ratt’s voices. But even if the instrumental and the fellas voices were at peace, the arbitrary rhymes (Coolio goes from smoking weed, to bangin’ his music, to almost killing a man, back to bangin’ his music, all in the matter of eight bars) and the nonsensical Roger Troutman inspired hook make this one hard to swallow (for all my East Coast readers, add a “pause” right here).

The Devil Is Dope – Coolio remakes The Dramatics’ 1973 record of the same name. He uses the song’s three verses to paint the perspectives of the dealer and the user. Though some of his commentary gets hard to follow, he still manages to deliver some potent lines: “Things seen, only imagined and in dreams, until the same nightmares in TV screens, your teenage screams…’cause the dosage wasn’t right, now his chest is getting tight, and everything is goin’ black, but it’s the middle of the day, figure that” (those bars give me goosebumps, considering how Coolio passed). Coolio does his part, but it’s the powerful message and soulfully scrumptious singing (no sample) by The Dramatics on the hook that will send chills up your spine while you nod your head uncontrollably to the irresistibly funky live instrumentation and infectious groove.

Hit ‘Em – To open the track, Coolio pulls out his best hood-regal dialogue and addresses all the naysayers who question his rhyming ability. He spits two decent verses, but I’d guess not strong enough to change the minds of his doubters. Ras Kass stops by and drops off a verse, sandwiched between Coolio’s. I’ve often criticized Ras’ unorthodox delivery, but he actually sounds dope using it over Jammin James Carter and I-Roc’s standard West Coast canvas. The Fat Boys call back on the hook added a catchy touch to the record.

Knight Fall – Coolio jumps into his paranoid/anxiety/depressed bag on this one: “Somebody tried to tell me it was all in my brain/I tried alcohol, marijuana, and cocaine, but it still don’t ease my pain/ Am I insane or a victim of my own fears? What’s going on? We supposed to be happy here/God don’t make no junk, that’s what I’ve been told/but it seems to me, God ain’t in control.” Coolio’s desperate content is scored by Mr. Dominique’s trunk-rattling funk, which is juiced up by live instrumentation (My Neighbor Ronnie and, of course, Stan The Guitar Man) and soulful vocals on the hook (Lashanda Dendy, Wil Wheaton (not to be confused with the actor), and Julius Carey). This is a tough record that would have been the perfect follow-up to the opening intro.

Ooh La La – This was My Soul’s second single. Coolio sounds like a dog in heat as he tries to get into the panties of the object of his erection. Oji Pierce turns Grace Jones’ “Pull Up To The Bumper” into a poppy West Coast backdrop that I know I shouldn’t like, but the live instrumentation makes it feel so damn good.

Can U Dig It – Our host borrows a classic line from the 1979 New York gang flick, The Warriors, for the title and builds the hook around it, accentuated by a choir-like ensemble. I could dig most of what Coolio was putting down lyrically, but it’s the slick guitar licks and smooth bassline (Stan The Guitar Man) that make this a quality bop.

Nature Of The Business – Coolio plays the drug-dealing mastermind behind a grand scheme for he and his team to transport massive amounts of kilos across the country and get filthy rich. But like the great philosopher, Andre 3000, once said: “The catch is you can get caught,” and (spoiler alert), Coolio and his crew do. Al “Show And Tell” Wilson sings 3 Stacks’ sentiments from the bottom of his heart and soul on the hook. The bluesy instrumentation gives Coolio’s storyline a cinematic feel.

Homeboy – Someone, going by the alias of Blue, builds the backdrop around an interpolation of Betty Wright’s “Tonight Is The Night” for Coolio’s ode to strong male friendships. Montell Jordan joins the fellowship, harmonizing the hook and adlibs. This one feels good, and I love the message.

Throwdown 2000 – This one was way too crossover-contrived for my taste buds.

Can I Get Down – Coolio tag teams the mic with Malika (who you may remember from her cameos on “Cruisin’” from Gangsta’s Paradise and 40 Thevz’ Honor Amongst Thevz album) over a funky Raydio (Ray Parker Jr.’s band before his “Ghostbusters” fame) interpolation. The music was definitely more entertaining than the duo’s rhymes.

Interlude – This skit sets up the next track.

My Soul – The title track finds Coolio mixing boastful bars with thought-provoking couplets (my favorite being: “In two decades, rap went from Planet Rock, to crack rock, now everybody got a glock”) over tinted but smooth strings. This is quietly one of the strongest tracks on the album.

Let’s Do It – I don’t think you can mess up an interpolation of The S.O.S. Band’s “Take Your Time (Do It Right).” Mr. Dominique and his cast of musicians do right by it on this track, turning it into a nasty G-Funk-esque groove while Iesha Lot and Terri Tobin passionately sing on the hook. Coolio uses it to walk us through the courtship of his woman: from meeting her at the club, to their first date, to their first time bumpin’ uglies. Our host’s storyline was slightly entertaining, but the vibrant musical bed stirred up images of a brick house in heels and a slinky dress, dancing to it while sexily moving down the Soul Train line. Now that’s entertainment.

C U When U Get There – This was the lead single and would end up being Coolio’s last Top 40 hit. Mr. Dominique taps Johann Pachelbel’s classical standard “Canon In D Major” (you may not recognize the title, but as soon as you hear the melody, you’ll recognize the song) for the interpolated backdrop. 40 Thevz joins Coolio one last time, as each of them challenges their peeps to elevate their minds above the low vibrational hood shit they’re accustomed to while the choir co-signs the trio’s message on the hook. Coolio and his guests’ message was commendable, but the “Canon In D Major” usage in the instrumental felt cheap. This concludes My Soul, with no real resolution to the album’s opening skit.

In My Soul’s liner notes, Coolio breaks down the definition of “my” and “soul,” individually, and then gives his definition of “My music” and “My soul.” According to Coolio, his music: “Listens to no one, accepts no limits, fears no aggressors, respects the worthy, rejects the trivial, pities the greedy, devours the wicked, and lights the way to warn of the pale horse.” That sounds more like the thesis statement for a Public Enemy album than a description of My Soul.

My Soul does occasionally “warn of the pale horse” (see “The Devil Is Dope,” “Knight Fall,” “Nature Of The Business,” and “C U When You Get There”), and a few times “respects the worthy” (i.e., “Homeboy” and “Let’s Do It”), but it doesn’t “reject the trivial.” It embraces the trivial and grips it tight as the Astronomer CEO did his mistress at the Coldplay concert before getting exposed by the kiss cam. Most of the album is filled with meaningless themes and random rhymes from Coolio and his guests, but meaningless and random aren’t necessarily bad attributes, especially when you’re a charismatic emcee like Coolio. Coolio has never been a top-tier lyricist, but his realness and straightforward approach to rhyming make him relatable, which in turn helps maintain the listener’s attention for most of the album. But more impressive than Coolio was the production on My Soul.

There is something to be said about live instrumentation injected into hip-hop beats. I’m an East Coast dusty boom-bap guy, but I also love a clean West Coast groove. And when that groove comes with booming horns, slippery wah-wahs, and SZA-thick basslines, the groove is only intensified. Excluding the skits, thirteen of My Soul’s fourteen tracks feature live instrumentation, with the main player being Stan “The Guitar Man” Jones (someone needs to honor that man for his discreetly phenomenal contribution to hip-hop through the years). The album is filled with pop-accessible West Coast funk instrumentals. But The Guitar Man and his constituents bring balance, putting the soul in My Soul, making them just as important (if not more) to the album as Coolio and the producers.

My Soul marks the end of Coolio’s historic run at Tommy Boy. It may not have been as commercially successful as Coolio’s prior two solo albums, but the quality is in the same ballpark. And I’m now on a mission to track down the rest of his independent releases.

-Deedub
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