Wu-Tang Clan - The W [2000]

There are many books written about the Wu-Tang that chronicle the various periods of the groups history. Plenty of material can be found about the group’s 36 Chambers days, plenty about the post 36 thru Wu-Tang Forever days, and now, with the recent releases of several documentaries and dramatic retellings, pre-36 Chambers material. But a difficult period to accurately speak on is the span of time between Wu-Tang Forever and 2000 for several key reasons. For one, the production style of this time was experimental for the Wu-Tang and the Affiliates, with many (and I mean many) of the ideas being uninteresting and mere shadows of the dark chamber-music that popularized them. Secondly, the drama surrounding the clan at this time was captivating people much more than the music was, with the constant struggles ODB faced near the end, creative differences and money issues between members, and introducing new members (only to kick them out again) grabbing attention more than their albums. Lastly, and most importantly, after the flawless run of albums between 36 Chambers and Wu-Tang Forever, the Clan dropped a metric fuckton of content on the public: solo albums, affiliate projects like the Sunz of Man and the Killa Army, compilation projects, and soundtracks to movies. It was too much to keep up with even for the most loyal of Wu fans, and I don’t blame people for checking out because, in all honestly, you aren’t missing much. However, there are two must-listens from this time period that are not just good albums to put into your ear-holes, but they are critical to understanding how the Clan evolved in the four short years after Wu-Tang Forever; one is Ghostface Killah’s Supreme Clientele, largely seen as a return to form for Wu solo projects, and the second, the subject today, is the Wu-Tang Clan’s third album, The W.

The W seems so much more modern, so it’s crazy to think that the Wu-Tang was still young in 2000. Also RZA looks completely demolished.

When you are discussing the evolution of the Wu-Tang Clan the main subject is always the RZA and his production style. Wu-Tang Forever saw the beginning of a shift from RZA the beatmaker to RZA the composer, and the time in-between the group’s second and third album was a time when RZA was learning everything he could about more traditional production techniques on more traditional machines, while also indulging a life-long fantasy of scoring movies, which he was able to pull off near the end of the century. Thusly, his style shifted from the rough, basement-quality, muddy beats of the early 90’s to a cleaner sound that relied more upon organic and arranged instruments (see Reunited off of Wu-Tang Forever). He still obsessed over making original material, and a lot of the synth-work and cinematic material leading up to The W, while it may not have been his best work (Bobby Digital in Stereo), you can’t knock it for not being unique and genre-pushing, with a lot of it being inspirations for artists like Kanye West & Pharrell Williams.

The instrumentals on The W reflect the ambitions of the RZA that was hinted at in Wu-Tang Forever and applied in the late 90’s, but in an album half the size. It’s not 7th Chamber-like instrumentals for 14 tracks; it’s a surprisingly varied album, with it’s choices of samples being more widely spread, and it’s instrumentation being a far cry from the days of the “RZA keys” on every track. In every way but drum pattern, which is still resolutely boom-bap, The W was a different instrumental listening experience.

Immediately following the intro you’re thrown into the deep end, into where RZA’s head was at the time with Careful (Click Click), which is one of the strangest and surreal tracks in the entire Wu-Tang discography. Structurally, it’s disjointed and off-putting, with no real “hook”, just different refrains from the different members of the Clan that utilized a repeated word (bang bang, click click, clack clack) that is reminiscent of the gang-chant vocals of before, along with random forays into horn sections that don’t click with the beat intentionally. The instrumental is dank, watery, and claustrophobic, serving as an effective experiment with a borderline horrorcore aesthetic. Let My N****s Live is in a similar vein of heavily stylized brash instrumentals, with an oppressive tuba, the only percussion being a tambourine and a sparse snare; a very confrontational beat, appropriate given the subject matter.

The intro to the record, Shaolin Finger Jab, with it’s 5 Deadly Venoms sample and the proceeding beat with its quick tempo and tight snare and hi-hats, sounds like something that would sound pulled from the previous album if it wasn’t for the ambient strings in the background. The relative familiarity of the track makes the transition to Careful all the more jarring, something the RZA is not afraid to utilize at several points during the album. Hollow Bones is, in my opinion, the most traditional sounding Wu-Tang track on The W, with its immaculately crisp vocal sample and bass-groove that is soaked in soul; RZA the sampler hadn’t left yet. The Monument is another one of these moments that’s broken up into two ideas, one with awesome stuttering snares and horns and the other being a smooth jazz-funk cut with a great groove to it. These three tracks are mostly it in terms of instrumental familiarity, while the rest of the record is a collection of ideas.

Cinematic material was not new to The RZA, with many of his beats before having sampled various movie clips and soundtracks, but it wasn’t until this album that he leaned into this headspace full tilt. One Blood Under W sounds straight up like a scene from a movie, I’m sure inspired by various noir and thriller films; it’s a smoky, mysterious beat made up of well placed horns and intriguing guitars, an impact that is honed in and doubled by being the only Masta Killa solo track in the group’s history. The two cuts I Can’t Go To Sleep and Jah World are similar tracks in that they are both forlorn, sorrowful muses on the tragedy of black life, and the instrumentals reflect these ideas in a very picturesque way. The former is led in by a sample at the end of Let My N****s Live where a man is a shot, and the track gives the reflective bars about the senseless killings cinematic weight with mournful keys and a full string section waxing and waning over the track. Jah World is a similar, but more articulate and detailed cut, incorporating ambient kung-fu samples in the background, along with replacing the string section with a mystical flute player; it plays as almost a dirge to original Wu-Tang methods, with many of the lyrics lamenting over the loss of life and knowledge.

“Wu-Tang is invincible, nahmean? It’s Wu-Tang forever God,. You gonna get down with that W? That’s that WU, that’s that WISDOM. That’s the Truth.” - RZA, Bells of War

The third, and probably most indicative of where the Clan would go next with Iron Flag, are the R&B tinged tracks and those with more synthwork. Redbull is lowkey kind of hideous with it’s single synth notes, and is probably my least favorite instrumental. Protect Ya Neck (The Jump Off) is a good sequel to the original 36 Chambers cut, but is completely different instrumental-wise, with slick funky drums and electric guitar. Gravel Pit is the most different track in the listing, with a straight-up female vocal hook and fast-paced, dare I say *danceable*, drums. The last two were the first and second singles respectively, and for this reason I can understand why people would remember The W as an instrumental departure; but, in hindsight, it was obvious that the RZA was trying to soften the blow of Iron Flag, which doubled down on the softer, funkier, synthy-er direction he was hinting at.

If I’m being 100% honest, the weakest part of the record… is the rapping. I still love this shit, I will always love the Clan, but I’m not going to sit here and tell you that the Wu-Tang swords were as sharp in 2000 as they were in ’93, hell, even as sharp as they were in ’97. There are winners here for sure: Rae and Ghost kill every verse they are on, Method Man will never loose his sharpness (he hasn’t lost it yet), and Masta Killa really got some time to shine on this one. Cappadonna, now being an official member of the group, doesn’t really make the case for why on The W given he’s only on two tracks (not very compelling appearances either). The RZA may have killed the beats, but his three appearances are not his best in terms of flow, but his lyrics are become more cerebral. The GZA and Inspectah Deck are slowly loosing that touch they had, with their flows really suffering at this point in their careers. U-God is exactly the same (but his performance on Gravel Pit is one of his best). Obviously Ol’ Dirty was in jail at this point, but I would have preferred nothing from him rather than Conditioner; the jail-phone thing is cool and novelty, but it cheapens the record, and Snoop on the feature did not fit at all. Overall, the Clan would never have the inspiration and hunger that they had on their first two records again, but although diminished they are still powerful together.

The way I see it, the Wu-Tang Clan’s first two albums are some of the brightest moments in hip-hop, and their subsequent albums are merely mirrors that reflect that brilliance in small ways. I guess a better way to say it is that all their albums have merit, with The W coming very close to matching, but in very different ways, 36 Chambers and Wu-Tang Forever. The beats are some of RZA’s nuttiest without going totally overboard, the rapping is still serviceable, and the Wu-Tang aesthetic is still intact (more than can be said for their next project, Iron Flag). You’ve got to check out The W.

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