Canibus

Hip-hop is a fickle biz, and battle rappers make enemies at a faster clip than most. Still, few MCs have seemed so determined to arouse bad will as Canibus. From L.L. Cool J, whom he savaged in his career-making single, "Second Round K.O.," to Wyclef Jean, whose eccentric production on Can-I-Bus he quickly disowned, Canibus lashed out against every collab-orator who'd given him a leg up. His ferocious skill actually hampered his career --his bad attitude is emphasized by a clipped, snide delivery that makes every jibe sound personal. At least his albums will never be bogged down with the redundant guest spots that spoil so many hip-hop albums.

Following Canibus' series of explosive underground singles, hip-hop tastemakers declared his 1998 debut the most eagerly anticipated hip-hop album of the year, and tossed that disc aside, upon its release,as one of hip-hop's greatest disappointments. This was undeserved: The mix of Wyclef's glossy production and Bus' loony sci-fi-inflected paranoia is an odd one -- it makes the Fugee's pop moves sound weirdly avant-garde and the MC's complex rhymes sound simpler than they are. But from the rock guitar track to the Roxanne Shante sample, Can-I-Bus was as wide-ranging as any hip-hop album to emerge from the late '90s.

Keeping an ear to the streets, Canibus lashed out against Wyclef's production on B.C., a less ambitious and fairly decent follow up. But by the time of True Hollywood Stories, Bus' wit seemed embittered. When he rescues Eminem's fan Stan from his car crash and invites the kid on tour, his assault on the more successful rapper seems as desperate a plea for attention as Stan's plunge off the bridge. As does his jibe at Jay-Z, "The only difference between me and you is a budget." The frothing, antiterrorist "Draft Me" turned out not to be an empty boast: Canibus ended up enlisting in the Marines, but as Mic Club and Rip the Jacker attest, that didn't make for better music. (KEITH HARRIS)

From 2004's The New Rolling Stone Album Guide