By Roy Kasten
By Kris Wernowsky
By Chaz Kangas
By Joseph Hess
By Julie Seabaugh
By Mike Appelstein
By Rachel Brodsky
By Kelsey McClure
To paraphrase LL Cool J, Nas doesn't want people to call his return a comeback, because he's been here for years. But hip-hop addicts don't see things this way and never have.
"Every time I make an album, they're always saying, 'He's coming back,'" grumbles the rapper during a telephone interview to promote his new disc, Stillmatic. "It's always been like that, even when it's something positive -- you know, like they're all happy I'm coming back."
As for Nas, he doesn't exactly seem overjoyed to be answering questions in the glare of a national spotlight that last shone brightly on him in 1999 thanks to a pair of albums -- I Am ... and Nastradamus -- that he issued in quick succession. When he's not snapping impatiently, he's showing that his sizable persecution complex, which seemingly reached its apex with the I Am ...smash "Hate Me Now" ("Well, you hate me, I'm gonna hate you, too/It's as simple as that/Die motherfucker, die motherfucker, die"), hasn't faded appreciably. At one point he says, "It frustrates me when people miss the whole point of what I'm doing and what I've been doing." Moments later, he declares, "Nobody's real, but I'm real. That's what gives me longevity, and that's what a lot of the hip-hop media doesn't understand about me. I'm not into all of that other shit. I'm into what's real."
Neither is he willing to back down. Last year, at a summer concert sponsored by a radio station in New York City, hip-hop titan Jay-Z threw an insult at Nas into one of his songs, inspiring Nas to return the favor. These gibes sparked an old-fashioned battle of the sort that hasn't taken place on this scale since before the murders of Tupac Shakur and the Notorious B.I.G. Fortunately, the clash hasn't had such dire consequences. "We all saw and grew from what happened to B.I.G.," Nas says. "So nowadays it just shows that two brothers can argue and not have a fight."
Indeed, the competition has been bloodless, with each combatant using a song as his weapon: Jay-Z fired off "Takeover," featured on 2001's The Blueprint, prompting Nas to counter with a Stillmatic assault dubbed "Ether." No official winner has been declared, but most scenesters believe Jay-Z got the better of the scrap. Whereas most of Nas's insults came across as juvenile (especially homophobic mentions of "Gay-Z" and "Cockafella Records," a reference to the Roc-A-Fella imprint), Jay-Z's were lethal darts aimed directly at his rival's authenticity: "There's only so long fake thugs can pretend/Nigga, you ain't lived it, you witnessed it from your folks' pad."
Further benefiting Jay-Z was his recent run of success (among the longest and most impressive stretches in hip-hop history) and the quality of The Blueprint as a whole; from start to finish, it may be his best disc. Stillmatic, on the other hand, has received mixed reviews. But it's sold more than a million copies in less than three months, and most critics see it as an improvement over I Am ... and Nastradamus, which were regarded in some quarters as overt attempts to make Nas more palatable to a mass audience. For his latest disc, Nas maintains, kowtowing to radio programmers was the last thing on his mind.
"There are thousands of bullshit rap CDs that come out every fucking week," he declares. "So this is me just going, 'Let's make a real hip-hop album, because I don't hear any lately.'
"The stuff I grew up on was the true hip-hop, but now it's a commercial playground," he continues. "I'm not mad about that. It's good that people can make money making music that's fun and good, and it's new -- it's a new style. But I'm still a big, big fan of the music from my day -- music from the golden era that I grew up listening to in the '80s."
Born Nasir Jones in 1973, Nas has an excellent musical pedigree: His father is Olu Dara, an avant-garde jazz trumpeter who's put out a couple of charming, wonderfully eclectic solo albums, including 1998's In the World: From Natchez to New York, on which Nas has a cameo. But he hardly grew up in comfort, having spent his formative years living in a New York-area housing project. Nas dropped out of school in the eighth grade, and in 1991, at age 18, he made his first commercial recording, slinging rhymes on "Live at the Barbeque," a cut on the 1991 platter Breaking Atoms by the Main Source, a hip-hop trio featuring Large Professor, who'd go on to produce some of Nas's finest tracks. Afterward, 3rd Bass's MC Serch recruited him to contribute to the soundtrack for the 1992 film Zebrahead, further lifting his profile and bringing him to the attention of Columbia Records. Two years later, the label put out Illmatic, which is among the top hip-hop debuts ever -- a group of unexpectedly jazzy ghetto anthems such as "N.Y. State of Mind" and "The World Is Yours" that Nas delivered with jaw-slackening authority and skill.
Following up such a strong disc wasn't easy, but Nas did a more-than-credible job with 1996's It Was Written, a strong collection that even spawned a hit single, "If I Ruled the World (Imagine That)," featuring the dulcet tones of future Grammy darling Lauryn Hill. Flush with success, Nas next jumped into the Firm, a hip-hop supergroup supervised by production mastermind Dr. Dre that sported contributions from AZ, Foxy Brown and plenty of other name talents. Those involved were apparently unaware that there had been another Firm during the mid-'80s -- an all-star rock conglomeration led by Led Zeppelin's Jimmy Page and Bad Company's Paul Rodgers that brought shame upon all involved. As it turned out, 1997's The Firm: The Album had the same effect on its participants -- particularly Nas, who reimagined himself as Nas Escobar, a smooth felon from the Godfather school of organized crime who wasn't nearly as interesting as the man himself.