2013 is peak Jay Z. Blue Ivy is born. Barrack Obama is elected President. He launches Roc Nation Sports. His wife is the world’s most beloved singer. Brooklyn is the undisputed musical, if not cultural, capital of the world. He has more number one albums than any solo artist in the history of music. He is a mega-brand. His family is a mega-brand. His city is a mega-brand. His city is number one. His wife is number one. He is number one. He has all the chips. 

There is a lot Jay-Z can do with these chips. So many choices. So many decisions. He chooses to father, hard. He signs baseball’s biggest free agent, Robinson Cano. And, gradually, he starts buying up beats and other artist mega-brands for a rumored solo album, his first since 2009s epic “The Blueprint 3.” Timbaland. Timberlake. Pharrell. J-Roc. Nas. Rick Ross. Frank Ocean. In 2013,  Jay Z is a holding company, buying up other prestige brands and licensing his own. 

If producing a definitive and fully earned “I’m the king on the top of the mountain” album while also running a fashion business, sports business, technology business and fledgling fatherhood sounds ambitious, few would disagree. While there was extraordinary excitement leading up to “Magna Carta...Holy Grail” there was fair curiosity as to whether we’d be getting a focused artist and MC or a billionaire genius trading beats and verses via MP3s over text messages. And, speaking of cell phones, “Magna Carta...Holy Grail” was to be released for free via the Jay-Z app to all Samsung customers. So, it was impossible to not wonder, was this new album going be a historic monument for the globalization of Black, New York culture or a regression from a distracted superstar? 

The answer is somewhere in the middle, but perhaps just slightly closer to the prediction of Jay’s more cynical critics. “Magna Carta” is a flex. Having access to every great beat-maker and producer, as well as JT in his absolute prime, Jay-Z may have over-shopped. More so than on his previous albums, many of the designer beats here are of the glitchy, video game variety that would define the second half of the 2010s. And while that makes Jay-Z prescient, it does not always serve his extraordinary flow.  When Jay stays on the beat, he is unshakably cool. His boasting sounds both sincere and well-deserved. When he experiments with triplets, he necessarily rushes or forces out ideas to catch up with the beat. In these moments, he sounds like he is both musically and lyrically reaching. Because of their great artistic skill and curiosity, Timbaland and J-Roc provide Jay with every beat on the menu of the future. Unfortunately, not all of it goes down easily.

“Picasso Baby,” however, is a three Michelin star meal. Under a deeply funky bass and just enough hitch, Jay unrepresses his id. His appetite is voracious. He earned the cash and he wants it all. He wants Picasso’s. He wants Basquiat’s. He wants to live in the Tate Modern. And then, in the third verse, wherein the guitar cuts through, Jay is untouchable. He can’t miss. He’s gonna score sixty. He is unguardable. He can have it all. Because he really can.

Jay is similarly able to stay in the flow on “F.U.T.W” On top of horns and backup singers, his bottomless bragging, name dropping and brand checking culminates is the promise/dare of the chorus -- “Let’s fuck up this world.” It doesn’t sound at all like a threat. It sounds like a giant in full control of his powers wanting to remake the world in his image. Part of you envies him. Part of you believes him. Most of you agrees with him. 

“Somewhereinamerica” follows “F.U.T.W” and sustains the flow, thanks to Mike Dean’s contributions. The track opens with a funky trombone and bass beat that builds under Jay sparring with haters and celebrating rule breakers. It’s short. It’s fierce. And it adds Miley Cyrus -- the idea and not the singer -- to the outro. Ultimately, this song is fun, in the same way that Miley Cyrus is -- sticking out her tongue, thumbing her nose and twerking.

Elsewhere, Jay-Z and his former nemesis, Nas, share verses on “BBC.” With a ringing synth and cowbell loop under them, the two legends trade off, with Jay getting the better. Although Nas has the better voice, Jay is smoother and more confident here. Pharrell channels some vintage Neptunes as the two legends exchange boasts rather than barbs. Jay is the winning emcee but this track is pure Pharrell.

The ballads are hit and miss. JTs vocals on the chorus of “Heaven” are among his best but the verses lag, giving the song the feeling of an idea traded between Timberlake and Jay, wherein JT took the exchange more seriously than his friend. “On The Run” features Jay’s better half. He raps like an out of breath Clyde Barrow while Bey pledges her undying allegiance to their life. It’s a good track but the chorus is not the best vehicle for Mrs. Carter. The closer, “Nickels and Dimes,” is an apt summation. Alongside a Moby-esque synth loop and a record-skipping beat, you can hear how hard Jay works. He earns everything. He sweats everything. He considers everything. So he fucking deserves to want more than the rest of us:

Nickels and dimes

Sticks to my mind

I want more than

You have my friends

At sixteen songs and nearly an hour, “Magna Carta” offers great breadth. His obsessive trendiness -- the name dropping of the latest and greatest of everything -- did not sit well with some critics in 2013. The mere mention of Instagram, Twitter and Miley by a middle-aged Dad felt like an unnecessary stretch to some. With the benefit of time, however, those references seem of the moment and, at forty-three and as a new Dad, Jay sounds plenty vital. The stretch, in my mind, was not his trendiness or his avarice, but, rather, his sonic ambition. Too many of the designer beats on this album were made with an eye to the future -- to impress. They were not necessarily made to Jay-Z’s strength. He is so consistently great when he stays mid or slightly up-tempo. When he races to catch Eminem or speed walks like Migos, it’s like Jordan forcing a three. You know that he understands the future. You know he can do it with practice. He can do anything. But he has the most perfect, high percentage post game and fadeaway that you don’t want him wasted with the new shit. Leave that for the kids.

by Matty Wishnow