The Guardian rated Nasir 3/5.
Again going on about the Kelis stuff
And so, the Kanyethon continues. Nas’s first album in six years is the fourth Kanye West-helmed album in as many weeks (not counting his contributions to the new Christina Aguilera album) with at least one more album still to come. The forthcoming appearance of GOOD Music-signed vocalist Teyana Taylor’s KTSE is meant to signal the end of this deluge (comprising West’s Ye, his Kids See Ghosts collaboration with Kid Cudi and Pusha T’s Daytona), but given what you might politely call West’s capricious nature and the slightly frenzied edge to his current burst of creativity, who would bet against us all being here for months to come, looking on as the now-famous whiteboard in West’s Wyoming studio appears on Twitter yet again?
That said, Nasir may be the series’ most musically consistent yet. The self-styled “ghetto Othello” is conceivably one of the few figures in hip-hop to whom West feels a degree of deference – “I feel like I’m 18 years old again when I’m making beats for Nas,” he tweeted – which perhaps led him to focus his attention and energy, with frequently spectacular results. West, or someone on his team, has been busy digging out perfectly apropos samples from arcane sources. Not for Radio mines the soundtrack of movie The Hunt for Red October for its eerie choral/orchestral sample; White Label’s braggadocio is backed by a suitably grandiose-sounding snippet of exiled Iranian pop singer Shahram Shabpareh. Another Iranian artist who fell foul of the Islamic revolution, Kourosh Yaghmaei, provides the lo-fi piano figure that weaves its way through Adam and Eve, the autumnal melancholy of its sound a perfect fit with the reflective lyrics: “Grey hairs of wisdom, that means you’ve seen something.”
The one topic Nasir doesn’t really address are the recent allegations of domestic violence made by his ex-wife Kelis, beyond some all-purpose stuff about bad publicity: “When the media slings mud we use it to build huts.” In fact, suggesting that Nas is ignoring what Kelis had to say about his drunken violence in the hope it will all blow over is very much giving him the benefit of the doubt – you could just as easily interpret some of what he has to say here as him revelling in it. “Drinking like Dean Martin is nothing to me,” he suggests at one juncture. At another, he boasts of himself as a: “chin-grabber, neck-choker, in-her-mouth-spitter, blouse-ripper, ass-grabber.” It’s hard to imagine anyone would actually be that stupid, but intentional or not, it makes for queasily unpleasant listening, an ugly blot on an album whose flaws cannot be laid at the door of its producer.
Nas: Nasir review – shifting, mercurial, but ultimately queasy listening
They call it the most consistent of the Kanye produced albums but only give him 3 when they gave Ye 4