Music Review: Roy Jones, Jr.

By Phillip Przybylo

Roy Jones, Jr.
Round One: The Album
Body Head Entertainment, Inc.
Availability: In stores now

The man who remains in a virtual tie in the mythical pound-for-pound rankings with Bernard Hopkins has released his first full length rap album. And like some of Roy Jones's recent title defenses, this one goes the distance (it features nineteen songs) and wins an unanimous verdict (but not quite a knockout).

To gain some perspective on the album, it is best to look at a predecessor from a year and a half ago: Oscar De la Hoya. Oscar's self-titled album earned itself a Grammy nomination, proving boxers can be successful outside of the sport; they are multitalented. It is obvious from any random song on Oscar's and Roy's albums that Oscar has the better voice. It is also obvious that Roy's songs have more credibility, especially when Oscar dedicated his album filled with love songs to a woman he dumped, with horrible taste, right as the album actually came out.

Also, one can look at other crossover efforts. Whenever a superstar from a different walk of life cuts an album, good things can happen (Oscar De la Hoya) as well as bad (Allen Iverson). They can be popular successes (Shaquille O'Neal's first album) or disastrous flops (Shaq's second and third albums).

Round One is no disaster.

Roy's diverse effort begins with hard-hitting rhythmic beats, highlighted by the pulsating seduction in "You Damn Right." "Ya'll Must've Forgot," his boxing autobiographical hit single, is a little choppy but infectiously energetic, nonetheless. From cruising "And Still" to the ultra rapid "Get It, Get It," each song drives the listener, taking him/her anywhere but where she/he was three minutes ago.

At the same time, it is those two songs that present a disturbing theme over the course of the whole album. Roy's lyrics, driven by a distinct sound, suggest he is bitter by the media's portrayal of him, and he is trying to convince listeners (seemingly himself also) into buying his ideas. He drops names like Larry Merchant and refers to Bernard Hopkins in a condescending manner. In fact, he dedicates the majority of a verse to the Philadelphia native, the only man to get under RJ's skin. In addition to that, his lyrics are a little self-serving. As in "And Still," his words are nothing but bravado in proclaiming he is numbers one through nine in the pound-for-pound list (#10? Roy Jones southpaw).

Right when one thinks he's/she's had enough, Roy comes up with more melodic hooks in "If You Need A Man," the classy and soulful "That Was Then," and the in-your-face, thumping "Do You Know How It Feels." The perceived background instruments also pick up, whether they be manufactured or the real deal, leading to a more humane side to Roy's varied subjects in his songs. Whether preaching about being a good father, praying to God, or improving life for African Americans who are hard on their luck, Roy tries to provide answers through heartfelt and admirable lyrics. Unfortunately, it is these songs that do not quench the listeners' thirst for tight rapping, but they still have their charm.

With so many forced and failed crossover efforts by other athletes, Jones's album is almost a breath of fresh air. Unlike other superstar celebrities, Roy co-wrote all of his songs. He was also the executive producer of the entire album and it shows. No song feels "un-Roy," and the album's structure has a nice flow to it. It is also devoid of annoying and silly skits within the album, which plague the current rap market. Lastly, the man even knows when to take a backseat to some of his well-placed contributors (Hahz The Rappa and Perion among them).

It is hard to believe this a rookie effort by Roy Jones, Jr. While slightly arrogant and edging towards obnoxious at times, he produces a solid, all-around hip hop record. It is highly recommended if you are a big time Roy fan, or even an average to lukewarm Roy fan with a love for rap.