The White Man is the Devil Volume 2: Citizen Caine

Artist: SlaineTitle: The White Man is the Devil Volume 2: Citizen CaineRating: 3 StarsReviewed by: Kathy Iandoli

The heart of Boston Hip-Hop is forever held in the arms of its independent artists. Logistically, Beantown can give New York a run for its money in the number of lyricists that flood the underground. Almost impossible to discern, rarely does an MC climb his way out of the murk and mire and truly exhibit mainstream potential. Enter Slaine. Special Teamz representative and La Coka Nostra forefather, Slaine develops a refined voice on his follow-up mixtape The White Man is the Devil Volume 2: Citizen Caine (Legend Leaguerz).

Slaine’s braggin’ rites successfully soared beyond his social circle with Volume 1. Hailed as Boston’s next best thing, Slaine didn’t need to ride the coattails of extended Hip-Hop family members like Edo G (Special Teamz), and La Coka Nostra affiliate Everlast and still doesn’t this time around. His knack for instilling the fear of the mic is a rare treasure, but with Slaine, it’s questionable whether or not he will use that device to spit on or bludgeon with.

Volume 2 opens with the drug infested “On The Third Day” beginning the cycle of Slaine’s penchant for lyrics that glorify his cocaine-saturated being. “Cocaine & Blue Eyes” follows with grimy vocals dipped in haunting violins. While the album’s title sounds more like a declaration of self-hate, Slaine posts it to his advantage on songs like “Jewelz”, “Bad Man”, and “XXX”, spouting sagas of sex and lyrical dominance within a psychotropic lifestyle. Replacing the recycled song concept of personifying a gun, the J. Ferra produced “Citizen Caine” brings cocaine as the narrator bastardized by both dealers and doers. The cuts by JayceeOh reflect multiple coke references, proving that kilo slingers aren’t the only ones abusing the “white girl”. Obligatory posse cuts, “Get Outta My Way”, “Fuck Tony Montana”, and “Racce Riot” unfortunately dilute the work, as Slaine stylistically can hold his own without the homeboy favors. Other minor low points mark the album with “Touch the Sky” and “Still East Coast” which confusingly sound like 50 Cent and Jay-Z karaoke. Further, Slaine sporadically flounders in depressing tangents and arrives like a whiny Eminem. Still, for the greater whole of Volume 2, he barely struggles with self-identity.

While Slaine hardly runs the gamut of song ideas on Volume 2, he does succeed in displaying potential for a long successful road ahead. However, should he desire fame beyond the highly concentrated league of cult followed artists (think Immortal Technique), he should loosen up his focus and indulge in diversity. In other words, put the razor blades and condoms down.