Battle Axe producer Rob the Viking handles nine of the thirteen tracks, keeping the majority of the set crisp and uncluttered. When dealing with verbalists who operate at this level, there's no need for bombast or sampled hooks -- the words are the draw:
Ab Rude:It's deep/Estuary/I'm the devil's adversary/Comma
Prevail:Drama/The three of us are pyramids/Period
Moka Only:Hearing it will bring you to the point of exclamation
[in unison]:And that you can quote
Collective efforts like the previous, from "And That You Can Quote," are structured with the group returning to a unified chorus before each takes individual turns to spin off into a solo verse. There's also incredibly clever layering going on -- rhythmically, structurally, and metaphorically. Sometimes a moment of clarity comes from the particular phrasing of a word or the triple meaning behind one line or simply just how cool certain words sound coming out all together. Simply put, Codename: Scorpion's essence of lyricism transfers the philosophical torch from jazz to hip-hop, creating new paths and connections.
Lest I paint too clinical a picture, let it also be said that this record is stanked-up funky at times. Moka Only's track "Pillow Fulla Scrilla" is sure to get even the whitest geriatric lockin' and poppin', with bizarre party lyrics that twist and dart around an incredible beat that uses a wood block's crack in place of a snare drum, accented by a monotone, trance-inducing piano hit. This shit rocks.
Unfortunately, most of the individual solo tracks that dominate Codename: Scorpion aren't nearly as clever. Since the few group efforts here are so truly Herculean, everything else on the album is rendered fairly underwhelming. Moka and Ab like to sing a lot, and while their voices aren't bad, their songs kind of are. Much like the overused hip-hop metaphor of Voltron, these parts are far stronger when interlinked, for it's in the interplay among all three where the good stuff happens.
