On the title track of Time Heals Everything, The Voices of Creation – a Los Angeles-based choir led by Jimetta Rose – drive home Exile’s much-treasured go-to; the lord-approved sound of voices scaling Heaven’s scenery, utilised to purpose the roughness of one’s youth for the prosperity of today.
Let’s face it, there is an easy joy to take from the sound of a gospel choir. Its connection with hip hop is as traditional as its connection with African American culture in and of itself, pre-Kanye, even if the artists perfecting the connection are largely nontraditional – Blu & Exile are as experimental as they are unsung.
Choir and soul samples are resourced for reflection as well as prosperity. Blu reminisces on In My Window, smokes a little something, listens to the beat Exile has sent him, whilst thinking about his biggest collaborations (see The Day by The Roots). There is, quite regularly, a synchronicity of past, present and future contained within the moods evoked by Blu’s pen and Exile’s choirs.
Strings and choirs are celebratory on Soul Unusual and Crumbs, chopping up multiple samples at once on the former (Common, James Brown etc.), harkening back to a rougher youth on the latter, as soul is interlaced with Slick Rick yelling “CRUMBS” (a sample from Children’s Story).
But Exile still refuses to rely on one solitary sound to capture Blu’s coming-of-age. Shoe Laces contains one of his least stationary beats; a yes-brainer bassline complements and guides Blu’s story, his disorganised, revving youth, his conscious adulthood that longs for escape – mainly from racism – much like his former. A sprawling piano occupies Hard Times, whilst the limitations of youth – lack of funds, lack of food, inciting survival instincts – follow into adulthood.
Blu himself is unlikely to rely on one subject, even if a new subject must spill from his primary theme, such as The Bag’s dissertation on money and its destructive tendencies once obsessed over. After about a minute-and-a-half, there is a gloriously jumpy beat switch, which unfortunately does overshadow one of Blu’s best lyrical performances. Few fuse repetition and detail like him – I can’t count the amount of times he says “money”.
He examines his role as a rapper on I Don’t Rhyme, and the meaning of hip hop traditionally, using one’s experiences to pursue something greater than music. He admits that, when he started out, he did it just because he wanted to look good, to have ladies do unladylike things, but tells younger rappers that there is a greater importance. Exile complements with turntables and Flava Flav samples. It’s a little disappointing that Blu then immediately jumps into vague rap disses on Lazy Afternoon, but that’s where Exile’s sinisterly jazzy arrangement comes in handy – something nicer to chomp on.
Blu still sees the value in being a “good rapper”. He reunites with Black Thought on T.S.O.D; the two syncopate with Exile’s dangerous Cali basslines, artistically in and out of sounding comfortable, inviting Mach-Hommy to jump on with his street wit.
It’s duality and then some. It’s Exile’s majestic, yet varied beats. It’s Blu’s wisdom in age. It’s soul and gospel. It’s dirty hip hop. Even when carving something so huge out of something so specific, Blu and Exile refuse to stay in one lane on Time Heals Everything. It’s difficult to call it the duo’s best when Below the Heavens exists, but it is the most emblematic of Blu & Exile’s unique strengths.
Best tracks – Soul Unusual – Crumbs – The Bag.
Rating – 8.5 out of 10
