Ghostface Killah

This week, the Wu-Tang Clan found itself playing second fiddle to its best-known artist’s seventh solo album. Ghostface Killah, whose new album, “The Big Doe Rehab,” was slated to be released the same day as the Wu-Tang Clan’s latest disc apparently forced the Killa Bees to push their album back by one week so that it wouldn’t conflict with his initial sales. One can only hope that the best is yet to come, and that the Wu‘s much anticipated reunion will blow the “Big Doe” out of the water.

“The Big Doe Rehab” is a quality album, but it’s not one of Ghost’s best. Last year, Ghostface dropped both the phenomenal “Fishscale” and the surprisingly passable follow-up “More Fish,” which consisted of material withheld from its predecessor. Yet his newest album doesn’t quite meet the high standards he set on his last works.

There’s nothing fundamentally wrong about “Big Doe”—it’s just not great. Killah’s notorious storytelling is nowhere near as enchanting as usual; a problem that’s exacerbated by the similar lack of engaging, energizing beats. Ghostface relies heavily on Diddy’s production crew, The Hitmen (Sean C. and L.V.), who mostly just contribute mediocrity, as they did on Jay-Z’s recent “American Gangster.”

But Ghostface hasn’t really fallen off, either. He still spins some good yarns, as on “Yolanda’s House” and “Shakey Dog Starring Lolita,” a somewhat disjointed sequel to a track on last year’s “Fishscale.” These tales, Ghost’s hallmark, are generally fantastical stories of drugs, women, and dramatic violence. But on “The Big Doe Rehab,” gratuitous gore replaces some of the humor and intrigue characteristic of earlier songs.

The beats aren’t all bad either; “Rec Room Therapy” and the funk-tastic “Supa GFK” are both pretty phenomenal tracks. Most of the other songs don’t have bad beats; they’re just bland, not even worthy of mention. Like the album as a whole, the production and the beats are solid, but lackluster, like that girl or guy you settle for at a party because all the really good ones are just out of reach.

The single most disappointing feature of “The Big Doe Rehab” is its formulaic composition. It’s like the fraternal twin of “More Fish.”

It would seem that Ghostface’s recipe for success is as follows: Gather lots of featured performers (mostly Wu-Tang buddies), throw in a bunch of story-tracks, a couple sentimental songs, one celebratory hymn, and at least one skit that takes place at a high-profile event, add hokey accents to taste, and mix gently. But even if this recipe were good enough to thrill every time (which it isn’t), the ingredients this time around just aren’t as fresh.

—Reviewer Joshua J. Kearney can be reached at kearney@fas.harvard.edu.