Art Official Intelligence: Mosaic Thump
De La were never entirely satisfied with the way they were perceived in the mainstream hip-hop world — from “Me, Myself and I” onwards, it was practically a major undercurrent of their lyrics — but by 2000, the satellite of it they’d established was a lot roomer than it was ten years before. So while the grand ambitions of a conceptual trilogy that this album kicked off were never fully realized, Art Official Intelligence: Mosaic Thump did something even more important: it made a powerful case for the potential popularity and undeniable legacy of a group formerly pigeonholed as “alt-rap” at a time when the divide between indie and mainstream hip-hop seemed almost insurmountable. It was one thing for them to scoff at R&B hooks on the title cut to their previous album Stakes is High, but to then pivot to emphasizing the possibility of what a good R&B hook actually was — bringing on an icon the caliber of Chaka Khan to add some gutsy power to the Neptunian bounce of “All Good?” — was just one of the ways they endeavored to beat the mainstream at its own game without feeling pressured to actually join them. It helps that the stylistically eclectic guest-spot co-signs show how big their world really is: Tha Liks and Xzibit interrogating haters on “My Writes,” Redman bellowing irresistible dance commands on “OOOH.,” Busta and the Beasties and Busy Bee, even a trio of skits featuring paranatural weed that makes people rap like Phife and Pharoahe Monch and Black Thought. If Pos and Dave made any sacrifices, it’s in the name of a guardedly optimistic idea that they could succeed as crowd-rockers first and bohemian abstractionists second. So aside from the interpersonal conflicts detailed in “All Good?” and the violence-deconstructing verses of “The Art of Getting Jumped” and “U Don’t Wanna B.D.S.,” they’re mostly concerned here with lyrics that keep parties moving, even if they refuse to compromise their signature flow-tangling complexity or back-burner their consciousness. The beats don’t always bang as convincingly as the stuff that got the Tunnel vibrating, though Prince Paul’s co-production on the Jeet Kune Do bounce of “OOOH.,” Dilla dropping one of his most eccentric boogie-warping beats ever in “Thru Ya City,” and the combination of reflective minimalism and Maseo’s DJ Premier-caliber scratch theatrics on “Declaration” are welcome exceptions. Still, this is the kind of album you’d hope for from a maturing crew of nonconformists with nothing left to prove and a lot to show for it.