It goes without saying that the internet has changed the face of hip hop music. With the advent of a creative outlet run by die-hard fans transformed overnight into so-called “tastemakers” came an onslaught of talent from every gradient of the artistic spectrum — so much so that it was inevitable that some of these talents would seem to be cut from the same cloth even without being obvious clones of one another.

Moe Green, the Vallejo, California-bred MC with the slow flow and the penchant for introspection, is a prime specimen of this internet generation. He’s unassuming, his mind is chock full of pop-cultural references, and he’s got punchlines for days. As if these increasingly common traits weren’t enough to place him comfortably into the internet-rapper category, he even sounds a bit like Wale, which is not a shot, just a statement of fact. The truth is, Moe’s music is actually rather entertaining. While his aforementioned counterpart has undoubtedly been blessed with more charisma, Moe makes up for this with youthful philosophizing and clever wordplay.

“One shot, that’s all I got, I let it hang out / Green battin’ clean-up, I’m here to get the stains out / white chicks feelin’ this, somebody bring the Wayans out? / even ghetto girls, like across from Martin Payne’s house”

Nothing that will blow your wig-piece back, but just enough lyrical-might to keep the people listening.

Sadly, perhaps the most-gripping aspect of the album is the production. A rag-tag bunch of newcomers makes for a refreshing sonic experience to compliment Moe’s rhymes. “Going In For The Kill” — the drumless, dubstep-inspired intro track from which the previous quote was lifted — gives the impression of a well-trained Shaolin monk in deep meditation before going into battle. From this point on, we’re introduced to Moe Green the artist without ever learning too much about the man behind the mic. Between nostalgic TV references and the occasional forced punchline, Moe lets loose a lyrical gem every now and again through-out the album’s 18 tracks.

“It was something that ain’t rub me right / like a ashy-hand lady beside me through the night because I’m tight / or tense or whatever, I will endure the weather / cause it’s a storm outside, I’m rockin’ my umbrella”

This brings me to another one of the album’s weak points. While for the most part it consists of relatively solid material, the fact that there isn’t much that truly stands out makes it a piece of work that must have been somewhat difficult to scale-down to a tasteful length — especially for an artist who seems to care for his craft as much as Moe does. That being said, there are certainly a few tracks that could’ve (and should’ve) been weeded out.

Whether Moe happens to be spitting rhymes in some hole-in-the-wall jazz-dive in 1940’s Harlem (”Non Title Match”, “KIM”), or bopping through some standard sample-driven urban boom bap (”Cruise Control”) it all seems to fit into the mosaic that is the persona of a typical information-age MC. They are lyrical without being truly great lyricists. They have a distinct sound that cannot accurately be categorized. They are everything and nothing at once; and considering the fact that I am a spawn of this very same generation, I can’t think of a better cliche to describe Moe Green.

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