Then 2010’s just-fine Apollo Kids marked a sobering new period where a rap-and-beats man with an ultimately limited purview of mostly crime-noir remembrances finally stopped breaking new ground and began repeating himself as “tasteful” collaborators like BADBADNOTGOOD and Adrian Younge failed to inspire magic on such forgettable and numerous efforts as Sour Soul, two volumes of Twelve Reasons to Die, the gimmicky comic tie-in 36 Seasons, and the gimmicky Meth and Rae union Wu-Massacre all fell not just woefully short of past excellence but didn’t inspire much reason to replay at all. And then Ghostdini met Ghost’s genuine R&B love halfway with storytelling unlike any in rap or otherwise, like the real-time cheating dramedy “Guest House,” the incredible diabetic freak’s journal “Stapleton Sex” (“My slow jam dick is on Thursdays”), and “Do Over,” in which the narrator apologizes to a woman as he’s en route to prison. The Big Doe Rehab was both more of the same and more swaggering in its presentation, with plenty of odd detours like “White Linen Affair” and “The Prayer” to give it its own distinction, as well as a growing emphasis on live soul backdrops rather than obscure loops. More Fish was dismissed as outtakes when its impressive narratives could crush most proper albums, and contained Ghost’s greatest pop single, “Good,” which went nowhere on Hot 97. These records were beloved, as were the underrated Bulletproof Wallets and overvalued The Pretty Toney Album between them, but the three follow-ups deserved vastly more love. Fishscale was just as detail-packed, but larger on concreteness: more concept (the Spongebob-repping “Underwater,” the outrageous child-abuse nostalgia “Whip You With a Strap”), more emotion (the infidelity rumination “Back Like That,” the almost fatherly “Big Girl,” paternal condescension and all), and music more fleshed out than simply amazing beats (the squealing rock-guitar hypefest “The Champ,” the Blaxploitation soundtrack simulacrum “Kilo”).

Ghostface Killah Supreme Clientele, Epic 2000Ĭlientele was a cornucopia of RZA’s most amazing boom-bap paired with Ghostface’s densest poetry, but it tends to blow heads over on sheer inscrutability alone, and it does flag a little towards the finish.

Despite the bulletproof reputation of 2000’s ironclad Rosetta stone Supreme Clientele, it was the multi-dimensional tour de force Fishscale in 2006 that marked his peak – one of not just rap’s but one of the greatest records of all time. But from 2000 to 2009, Dennis Coles boasted the purest distillation of a great rap career, which somewhat explains why he mostly only appeals to purists (and why 2009’s astonishing R&B experiment Ghostdini: The Wizard of Poetry in Emerald City never got its due).

And possibly even the Roots, who are taken for granted despite universal acclaim. No question that Biggie’s four (yes, only fucking four) years in the spotlight, Lil Wayne’s fanatical 2005-2011 peak, or Jay Z’s long-game, 20+ year mastery yield higher highs in the form. Those who don’t agree could stand to return to a few of them, but no rapper has ever had a decade as fruitful or powerful as Ghostface Killah in the 2000s.

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