Phenomenizzle

Every now and then, more often than not when watching VH1, I reflect on what has become a recurring quandary for me, and that quandary is the man history will remember as Snoop.

Before I begin to make any comments about Mr. Dogg that could be even remotely construed as negative, let me first say he is one of the most likeable personalities in the history of rap music. Since his near instantaneous rise to national stardom in the early ’90s as the featured guest MC on Dr. Dre’s inescapable gansta monolith The Chronic, Snoop Dogg has been famous. Not just famous. Really really really fucking famous, like Kansas soccer moms know who you are famous. And that fame is due in large part to his charisma, humor, and general way that he very pleasantly did not give a fuck. He was (is) just one cool motherfucker. But it’s pretty damned important not to forget a critical element here: Snoop Dogg’s flow. All of the above characteristics came through in that lazy, stoned-ass drawl. His best performances, like “Tha Shiznit,” take their time and give incredible attention to individual syllables, and have a narrative coherence lacking in the verses of many of his peers. His ability to change up frequently and ride the rhythm in unexpected ways made his verses musical and lilting, and unusually appealing to crossover hip-hop fans who may have initially been alienated by harsher contemporaneous voices such as Ice Cube (sorry to use another West Coast example but it was the first one that came to mind).

But here’s the thing, man. Let’s look at Snoop’s discography. It can be agreed upon that Snoop Dogg has made a few good albums. But he’s only really ever made one truly undeniably great album (that is under his name, The Chronic is a major achievement as well, obviously). Snoop Dogg has also definitely made a few really fucking awful albums, many of which are not just bad but, in hip hop tradition, really really fucking looooong. Now, Doggystyle is about an hour long, but unnecessary length can usually be forgiven in the event that an album kicks ass, which Doggystyle so obviously does. But dig this: Snoop’s first album for No Limit records, Da Game Is to Be Sold Not to Be Told is 79.28. That’s as long as a fucking movie. Even the title’s too long. And it’s filled with slapdash, whateverish productions by Master P and groaning under the weight of too many No Limit guest rappers. No Limit Top Dogg and The Last Meal were improvements, as the Dogg’s production skills continue to develop from his more rudimentary work on The Doggfather. But 2002’s Doggystyle All-Stars, a limp posse album (and obvious contract fulfiller) with minimal contributions by the posse’s ostensible leader, was a step backwards. Luckily some talented production teams were on hand for Paid tha Cost to Be da Bo$$, most notably the Neptunes, who produced the hit single “Beautiful.”

But despite this comeback, it’s guest spots that have been Snoop’s bread and butter in recent years. This seems to be logical, since his career began by guesting on an album, and indeed when Dre’s 1999 follow-up 2001 rolled around, Snoop appeared on the high profile, Grammy-nominated singles “Still D.R.E.” and “The Next Episode,” which are, not surprisingly, among the best tracks on the album. Snoop Dogg was nominated again in 2004 with the Neptunes for “Beautiful” and with Pharrell Williams alone in 2005 for the killer “Drop It Like It’s Hot.” Other more unfortunate collaborations include his guest spot on the vomit-inducing Pussycat Dolls hit “Buttons” and his current hit single with Akon, “I Wanna Love You” which is also recommended for those needing to induce regurgitation, either for medical reasons or a modeling career.

But no matter the legal troubles (which have been on and off ever since Snoop’s much publicized acquittal on a murder charge in February 1996) or the occasionally atrocious choice of collaborators, it seems Snoop Dogg will always be with us. Perhaps it’s because the personality he has created over the years is not really human. He is a gun-toting, blunt smoking gangsta cartoon, and so when his arrested for possession of marijuana and firearms, the public response is a resounding “duh.” Its not as though we can hold someone who is essentially a court jester figure in our celebrity pantheon accountable for acting out their shtick in real life. He tells us that he carries guns and smokes weed. That’s pretty much the basis for his career. We aren’t surprised and we aren’t mad.

But it makes you think a little bit. Or me, anyway. Gangsta as a concept has been around so long its not even offensive anymore to anyone under the age of fifty. We are willing to accept that for the most part, Snoop is a harmless figure. But then again, he is carrying a gun (and large quantities of ganj, but one of these things is not like the other, if you know what I mean). And although aside from Jam Master Jay, it’s been awhile since a high-profile murder has shaken the hip-hop community, no one should forget the potential for tragedy in a musical culture still deeply and intrinsically linked to a culture of violence. And that’s not racism or gross generalization, that’s fact.

So what? So nothing, I guess. I will go on loving Snoop Dogg, even though I know he carries a gun, because he smokes a lot of weed, he’s funny, he says izzle a lot, and he made Doggystyle.

Snoop has worked that fly gangsta shit so long and so over the top that it’s been forever since it felt like anything but a fantasy. Maybe because of things in his life that I don’t understand and never will, he has to arm himself. I don’t expect him to be a role model. His whole persona is that of the unrepentant rascal, and I wouldn’t want him to change that for the world, because its cool and it’s what makes him so much fun to listen to.

But the threat of cartoon violence turning real spoils the fantasy somewhat. Like any thinking white liberal dude who digs rap music, there’s always this back-of-the-mind worry about the IMPLICATIONS. Is the music I enjoy socially irresponsible? Some of it, yeah. Is it still worth listening to? Definitely.

Snoop Dogg is the man. His legacy is safe, and he’s pretty much impervious to any criticism. And that’s ok with me.

I’d just feel more comfortable knowing that gun was full of blanks.