Eminem Teams With NERDS Clothing for Original Video Game, New Streetwear Collab Out of New York Comic Con (EXCLUSIVE)
Show more
Stray Kids Join BTS in Sitting Out Grammy Awards
Show more
‘Cameron Winter at Carnegie Hall’ Review: Paul Thomas Anderson Directs a Rapturous Solo Concert Movie Built Around the Songs — and Haunting Sound — of Cameron Winter
Show more
There Is Precedent for Taylor Swift’s ‘Cleveland!’ Making the World Go Crazy: Paul McCartney’s ‘Silly Love Songs’ Era
Show more

Jay-Z Revisits the Ghosts of Lyrics Past in the Illuminating (and Possibly Too Thorough) ‘Jay-Z in 8’: TV Review

In their 2001 track "Renegade," Jay-Z posed a pointed question alongside Eminem: "Do you fools listen to music or just skim through it?" That challenge now forms the conceptual foundation of "Jay-Z in 8," an HBO documentary series comprising eight installments. In it, the rap titan joins forces with legendary producer Rick Rubin to examine his own body of work, ranging from chart-topping hits to lesser-known album tracks. Jay-Z argues that audiences frequently oversimplify his output as mere glorification of money and excess. "It's like, you're not listening," he remarks. This central question of whether fans truly engage with his writing echoes throughout the series, which adopts a deeply analytical and at times repetitive approach to his life and profession.

Rubin, serving as both director and on-screen partner, leads the discussions from inside Paris's Palais Brongniart. That 19th-century edifice, originally constructed to house the French stock exchange, now functions as a museum and events space. Within its walls, Rubin plays tracks in what seems to be a random order, while Jay-Z deconstructs them, often word by word. The approach highlights his lyrical craftsmanship and reinforces hip-hop's legitimacy as an art form, a vehicle for self-reflection and social ascent. Jay-Z had previously explored a similar concept in his 2010 memoir "Decoded," in which he annotated 36 songs and interwove autobiographical storytelling. This series, though, comes across as more personal, narrowing the distance between performer and viewer by revealing his creative method as it unfolds. Given how rarely Jay-Z grants interviews, his openness here carries a striking sense of exposure. It stands to reason that he would opt for such a comprehensive retrospective in a year that honors the scope and impact of his catalog.

After almost a decade without a solo record, his most recent being 2017's "4:44," Jay-Z returned not with fresh material but with a series of anniversary performances, including a headline slot at Philadelphia's Roots Picnic and a three-night, sold-out engagement at Yankee Stadium in July. Those shows commemorated the 25th and 30th anniversaries of "The Blueprint" and his debut "Reasonable Doubt," respectively. Before the calendar year closes, he will have performed two more concerts at Los Angeles's SoFi Stadium, all with no indication of an upcoming album. Consequently, "Jay-Z in 8" directs its conversations toward everything culminating in the present, as Jay-Z meticulously breaks down lyrics from smashes like "99 Problems" and "Empire State of Mind," beloved tracks such as "Brooklyn's Finest" and "U Don't Know," and obscure selections like "Don't You Know," which surprises even Jay-Z himself. For devoted fans, the series represents a long-overdue treasure: Jay-Z recites his bars to an engrossed Rubin, blending commentary and verse until the boundary between them dissolves. Such sequences illuminate his genius, his life story embedded in the music playing before him.

He guides Rubin through his composition process, explaining how rapidly he records, pointing out that "The Blueprint" was completed in about a single weekend, and how he prefers to construct entire songs mentally. He calls attention to wordplay and dual meanings that even Rubin missed; "I keep one eye open like CBS," for example, references the network's logo while aurally hinting at "see BS," meaning bullshit. A shoeless Rubin frequently reacts with amazement, whispering "wow" or "incredible," or simply absorbing it all with eyes shut and a nod. As both co-lead and director, Rubin capitalizes on the series' striking monochrome visuals, which enhance the sparse setting. Some of the credit belongs to Rubin's instinct for pacing, as in Chapter 4's cold open, when Jay-Z recounts mending his relationship with his estranged father at his mother's request around the time of "The Black Album." He remembers the relief of finding closure before his father passed away a month later, and the camera remains still, seizing the unguarded emotion on his face. Rubin merits recognition for posing compelling, perceptive questions that regularly prompt Jay-Z to reconsider his own history. Nevertheless, "Jay-Z in 8" refrains from delving further. Rubin's decades-long bond with Jay, who produced "99 Problems" and first encountered him by proposing to swap seats on a transcontinental flight, creates a closeness that simultaneously aids and constrains their conversations. When they arrive at "Kill Jay-Z," a song referencing Jay's 1990s stabbing of a record executive and the 2014 elevator incident with Solange, they address it merely as a meditation on ego dissolution. While covering Jay's verse on Kanye West's "Jail," they acknowledge West's resistance to the "red cap" line, a double entendre for the MAGA hat West wore and "cap" as slang for lying, yet they avoid their present-day friction. A journalist with greater detachment might have tackled these songs directly, leaving certain topics feeling insufficiently examined.

What Jay-Z does share can be revelatory, producing abundant insights even for casual listeners. He reveals, for instance, that he originally sought Mary J. Blige for "Empire State of Mind" but ultimately chose Alicia Keys because of the piano in the instrumental. His rivalry with Nas could be traced back to his debut "Reasonable Doubt," which was meant to include Nas on a track until he didn't show up at a scheduled recording session. He also admits he should have reserved "Public Service Announcement (Interlude)" for the album following "The Black Album," and that "Encore" would have been a more powerful lead single than "Change Clothes." A great deal of this emerges in a standalone interview episode, where Rubin asks simple yet penetrating questions like "Have you ever been misunderstood?" or "Have you ever been the betrayer?" By the conclusion, "Jay-Z in 8" is so densely layered that it verges on excess. Certain song breakdowns, especially in the last episode, contribute little beyond what the recordings already convey. More disciplined editing would have improved the pacing across episodes, which range from 37 to 61 minutes. But this is Jay-Z, the artist who dropped an album annually from 1996 through 2003. As he himself has noted, listening can be passive, but the specifics reward those who pay closer attention. The first two episodes of "Jay-Z in 8" debut on HBO and HBO Max on Sept. 18 at 8 pm ET, with two additional episodes released every Friday.

Category:SHOW BIZ NEWS
 
CALL ME BACK