K-SCORE: 95
Rapper: Dr. Dre
Sorry for the delay folks, I was busy serving out a sizable portion of justice.
But now we're back! And we've got a great song to come back to, Dr. Dre's "The Watcher." Like all songs on his album 2001 this one is just great. I don't need to pump it up anymore, let's get to the review.
-Mike
Thank you Dr. Dre; there is a narrative here.
I frequently find myself wondering how long I can continue to evaluate rap, since such a huge percentage of the content of the rap songs is centered on what it’s like being a rapper. Even if I can absorb a huge amount of people describing what it’s like going to clubs, heating cocaine in two microwaves, drinking, carrying guns, getting into gang disputes, treating women terribly, etc., I’m never going to do those things myself. I don’t have the temperament for it, nor the desire, and for some of those activities, I like to think that I’m just a man with a more rigid sense of ethics than individuals who would participate in such things. I pity those stuck in that lifestyle, and lament even more other young people out there who might aspire to a life like that. But rap passed me by for twenty-three years with little impact on my life, even though it grew up as an art form at the same time and same rate that I did. Now that I’m immersed in it – engaged with it – maybe a tiny part of it, I occasionally get the feeling that this art form is trapped in a room filled with mirrors, forever looking at its own reflection until it goes insane. It’s not healthy. Take a look at theater. Those of you who have been to a play in the last five years may have an idea of what I’m talking about. Everyone in the audience would call themselves “theater people” and too high a percentage of the plays are about plays themselves. Try watching the film Hugo twice. You won’t be able to do it. The reason is that, after enough time has passed, no one is going to care about a film that only cares about film. I certainly don’t.
What I do care about, is stories. I need not delve into great detail to explain my admiration for storytelling and the crucial role I believe it serves, in order to be able to shine my appreciation on Dr. Dre’s The Watcher, so I’ll spare that discussion for another time. Dr. Dre because of the story you unfold in this song, I feel rejuvenated and ready to learn more about rap, a world from which I am still almost entirely removed, but occasionally intrigued by.
I listened to The Watcher seven times in a row, trying to figure out what it was about the song that I appreciated so much. Like Tupac’s Dear Mama, The Watcher gives a very personal account of the world as observed by the artist. This song doesn’t reach the emotional depth that Tupac managed, but it does something more as well. Dr. Dre, you convince me that you have a significantly greater understanding of the world of gangster life and rap than basically everyone else. This is critical to the success of a song called The Watcher. You call out other rappers for living the “gangster sh*t” that you started, but losing control. You paint this detailed picture of the concept of success in the industry being inevitably linked to self destruction. And you’ve witnessed it many times. You “watched them rise” and “watched them blow,” and “it’s all the same sh*t across the globe.” I’m getting that feeling from so many of the other songs I’ve reviewed, and now, you’re telling me the story, and so I feel I have a reason to listen in other than to mock Fat Joe for others’ amusement.
The form of The Watcher is great, and compliments the content flawlessly. I get this spooky yet strong sense from your beat, and the style of your verses is the same. But the message is what’s phenomenal, and the fact that I want to continue to listen to The Watcher over and over again, is for the first time on this blog, a result of what you’re telling me over just some catchy tune or beat. How you manage to distinguish yourself as a rap historian, who is part of that history, who is also divorced from that world, a part of that world, and not afraid of that world all of the same time, I’m still rationalizing in my mind, but you managed it. You describe personal things like that you’re “a family man” and that you “have more to lose,” and these things are why you “moved out of the hood for good.” And the details in these descriptions show me parts of the narrative of the entire rap scene that I haven’t been privy to before. I have great respect for you and this song.
I look forward to hearing more from you, Mr. Dre (sorry man, I had to do it). I’ll be watching.