Aptly-titled, Monumental brings  together a legendary producer and two of the underground’s most revered  MCs:  Pete Rock—half of the duo (along with CL Smooth) responsible for  early ‘90s classic Mecca and the Soul Brother—has  been the monster behind the boards of your favorite rapper’s favorite  rapper for a long-ass time; and Boot Camp Click members Tek and Steele—  known collectively as Smif n Wessun—have been rhyming for some twenty  odd years.  Yes, the collaboration sounds good on paper but, believe me,  it sounds even better on record.
 
Pete Rock—who does drop a few  verses here and there—produced the entire album.  His beats—whether  well-crafted soundscapes or simplistic loops—are delicious slabs of  head-nod shiz.  As well, he flexes his DJ skills on nearly every track;  revealing an impeccable attention to detail, as he drops samples from  the Smif n Wessun back catalog into cuts throughout the record.  SnW  aren’t the only ones that get special treatment though.  When Raekwon shows up to spit a few bars on “Prevail”, Pete flips the script to a  Wu-appropriate beat that perfectly matches Rae’s signature flow.
 
On  the topic of guest spots; there is a plethora.  Memphis Bleak, Black  Rob, Styles P, and SnW’s fellow BCC mates Rock, Buckshot, Top Dog, and  Sean Price, to name a few.  Price, on the track “That’s Hard” delivers  the murderous-yet-clever-lyricism he’s built his rep on:  “Slave  master/I sell white girl/I don’t eat ham motherfucker/I might hurl…don’t  give a fuck about nobody…Upstate New York is where I throw the bodies.”   Bun-B nearly steals the spotlight on “Feel Me.”  In typical Trill OG  fashion, he raps: “It’s just one man, one gun, one clip, and one  trigger/One second to die/And that’s comin’ from one nigga.”
Monumental is hot from the get-go, but things start to really sizzle about halfway  through.  “Roses” is on some real life & death shit.  SnW and  Freeway interweave dark tales of street life and missed opportunities,  and pose hypothetical questions like, “What if B.I.G. and Pac made  peace?/If you could say something to both of them, what would it  be?/What about your brother who just got murdered?/When you was cryin’,  do you think that he heard it?”  Continuing further into the morbid,  “Fire”—the first time on the album that Tek and Steele go at it as just a  duo—is a journey through the mind of schizophrenic killers.  The hook:  “What’s right or wrong?/All my thoughts are lethal/I see dead people.”   There are a number of dancehall nuances throughout Monumental, but it arrives full-force late in the album.  SnW—who regularly flirt  with Caibbean patois—and Pete—who is of Jamaican decent himself—are  joined by Guyana-born toaster Jahdan Blackkmore for a well-constructed  bashment riddim entitled “This One.”
Despite the vast array of  guests, it’s really Tek, Steele, and Pete who shine the brightest.  And  they should, as this more or less a hat-tip to their respective careers.   The argument could be made though, that Monumental is, in a larger sense, a tribute to a true craft.  Hip-hop has existed  in some form or another for nearly forty years now.  But the era that  true heads speak most fondly of is the mid '80s to the mid '90s.  The  Golden Age, if you will, was perhaps the most important time in the  development of hip-hop.  The '80s were about exploration and diversity,  and the '90s…well, shit just got hard.  Sure hip-hop has made strong  moves in terms of popularity in the '00s and the '00-teens, but the  focus has shifted from being skill-driven to more personality-driven.   So it's exciting when an album like Monumental comes along that celebrates the original aesthtic of hip-hop laid forth in those early years.
 
         
             
            