big top where everyone from a New Jack rhyme spitter like Small World to crusty Brit rockers like Pink Floyd can coexist. Ecleftic has hyperactive, pass-the-mike rhyme sessions followed by heart-wrenching duets with Mary J. Blige and Whitney Houston dub plates; nowhere else will you see the same kind of range, unless VH1 comes out with a whole new type of
Divas compilation.
Produced mostly by Clef and right-hand man Jerry Wonder, Ecleftic is part formulaic pop decision making, part rootsy, organic hip-hop. It's a blend that works like Flintstones-brand vitamin C with echinacea. Take the formulaic part: "It Doesn't Matter," which samples Bad Manners' Eighties hit "This Is Ska," seems clearly aimed at radio and video rotation. Groovy enough to make Rudy Giuliani bob his head, "It Doesn't Matter" calls out rappers who believe their own press clippings over a sunny, undeniable beat. (Ironically, it features professional wrestler the Rock -- currently the world's most recognizable poseur.) "Kenny Rogers Dub Plate" is a mad-scientist blend of backpack-meets-ten-gallon-hat corn that features Rogers kicking an interpolation of "The Gambler" alongside MC Pharoahe Monch. "Put this song full blast," Wyclef raps. "I'm about to break all formats."
Amid these bizarro yet radio-ready juxtapositions are songs that end up sounding totally unforced. The semiconscious booty-bass joint "Perfect Gentleman" is more about shaking derriFres than crossing over. And there's the roots-reggae "Diallo," a soul-searing eulogy for West African immigrant Amadou Diallo, who was fatally shot by New York police officers in 1999. Interestingly, Clef's bold cover of Pink Floyd's "Wish You Were Here" makes perfect sense -- the song becomes a flashback to his time as a young immigrant, when he used to "listen to hip-hop/My brother tuned me into rock/Put me up on Pink Floyd."
There's also some thinly veiled nastiness to keep things interesting. On the Salaam Remi-produced "Where Fugee At," Clef mixes a vague nostalgia for his old trio with lyrical barbs aimed at his ex-band mates. Over slow, muted horns that behave like strings and stuttering drum thumps, he releases stinging lines like "How quick y'all forget/I'm the reason y'all MC/But y'all flip like Pharisees and charg
