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The reason why hip-hop is in the state it’s in is because it has no love handles.

Pause.

Reflect.

Let me explain.

If you had to personify what rap would look like, and I’m going to keep it on rap as a genre because I don’t want to get into the aspects of hip-hop as a culture, then it would look like a model. A stone-cold fox of a dime-piece. I mean a real Cindy Crawford circa 1988 kind of girl. The kind of girl you think about all night but never make the move on because, even though you’re decent with the ladies and have never had trouble talking to a woman, you’re still afraid of the chance of screwing something up because it would be a disservice or burden on her. Not to mention the fact that you still look stupid.

And what does a guy like me have? A bit of debt, the remnants of old college days squatting around my midsection, a penchant for fast food and a Civic. Please, call me Prince Charming as I sigh and think ‘this will never work.’ My point is we’re in different classes of people. Me, the jester of the ‘normal’ class and her, the Queen of the ‘I only thought people like you were in movies’ type. And as much as I’d want to believe there was, there would be little connection, little shared experience and little to bring us together because we live in two separate realities. In the ‘normal’ – and in the ‘perfect.’

Nowadays rap lives in the ‘perfect.’ Perfect production, perfect timing and perfect mastering make the music, well, perfect to listen to. Artists are perfectly in key, instruments output the perfect sounds and engineers mix everything together into a perfect 14-track pot of mainstream gumbo.

As a member of the group that is used to having a little too much salt in the soup recipe, rap’s ‘perfect’ image is making it harder for me to connect to it. Just like the girl at the bar who was unapproachable, rap is increasingly becoming so. Artists are, both willingly and unwillingly, bowing to the pressure of making music to move units and not doing so for the art’s sake.

Gorilla Zoe’s latest release, Don’t Feed Da Animals (Bad Boy South), is the Twiggy of 2009. The Atlanta-based rapper known for his raspy voice, streed-fed lyrical content and tracks like Hood Nigga and Juice Box, has replaced tacos and beer with foie gras and almond champagne.

The album starts with Untamed Gorilla, an organ and horn-laden track where Zoe does what he does best, impressing the listener with his hood credentials. But the change from normal, ugly duckling to swan can be seen in the third song off the release, What It Is where Zoe has softer hooks and his vocal stylings have a slight hint of him trying to sing instead of rap. Further into the album, tracks like Lost and HelluvaLife confirm this notion where his trunk-rattling, hard street sound is replaced for an Akon-like, hook-heavy style more congruent with mainstream rap. For further reference see DJ Khaled.

Zoe’s softer sound may be a distinct departure from the one he gave listeners on his 2007 release, Welcome to the Zoo, but his lyrical content hasn’t moved an inch. Still the unbeaten king of the lame metaphor and disgustingly basic rhyme scheme, Zoe still raps about flipping bricks, Chevy’s on 28s and cash in Louie bags. I’m Dumb and Shit on ‘Em, the jokes are too easy, showcase Zoe’s ability to rap over lyrics that are hip-hop’s version of Snakes on a Plane. The only thing that disturbs me more than lines like “I’m dumb/I’m a Dodo/still in the hood/I got work to fill the Lolo” and Shit on Em’s hook that actually includes the word (someone show me where it’s located in the Merriam-Webster Dictionary) poo-poo, is that I don’t get to watch Samuel L. Jackson for two hours act like a badass on a 747. No breasts were bitten by giant snake fangs in the making and/or listening of this album. It’s aggravation without reward.

It will not and has never been my position that rap needs to stick to the mundane, tiresome and mentally liquefying lyrical content that is ridiculously pervasive in today’s rap game, but in this case Gorilla Zoe would have done better to stick to rapping about drugs and rims instead of coupling his dulling words with their musical counterpart. There isn’t a ton I can say about the production – for what it is it’s done well, nothing sounds overproduced or lacking and Zoe’s auto-tune/vocoder enhanced voice on I Got It makes him sound like Kanye on 808s. On paper it’s perfect.

When rap was younger, it connected to its listeners. When rappers spoke of the hood, social issues or block parties it was because they were doing so in a genuine manner. Now talk of the ghetto isn’t done because the ghetto needs to be addressed, but because market research tells labels that the concept of the hood, or of cash and women is appealing to the widest percentage of their potential listening base. Lupe got it right with Dumb it Down – and in much better words than mine said that rap has sold out. Don’t Feed Da Animals is the perfect example.

The ‘Perfect 10s’ are winning. They’re all over the bar and are coming through the door by the minute. Next time you taken someone home, make sure they’re up for a slice of pizza first.

For more information on Gorilla Zoe and Don’t Feed Da Animals, visit his page HERE.