Nelly

Under the name Nelly, St. Louis rapper Cornell Haynes Jr. became one of the decade's hottest stars by honing two hip-hop fundamentals, both of which are often forgotten when the bling starts to sing. First, he kept it real by keeping it local, proving yet again that hip-hop is the world's biggest pop style because it's the most proudly parochial. Equally important, he matched his "back there" with a "back then," taking the playas to the playground, where flossing and rhyming are reborn with every new generation.

The result was Nelly's huge breakthrough hit of 2000, "Country Grammar (Hot . . . )" the lead single off his major label debut of the same name. The song's "down, down baby" chorus was lifted from a double-dutch rhyme that, in one version or another, can be heard at school recesses across the country. Nelly's St. Louis version, however, was located in the country's center, a position that allowed it to mix up Dirty South bounce, West Coast flash, and even the junior thug harmonies that once emanated from Cleveland. And if it borrowed from everywhere, it gave back to everyone. The music mostly concerned itself with riding in cars and women (in that order), and his honeyed flow -- perched halfway between rapping and singing -- and Jason "Jay E" Epperson's airy production invited all comers along.

Country Grammar's catchiest, most convivial tracks became hits (the Spanglish-flavored "E.I.," the definitive "Ride Wit Me"), but the rest was mostly competent filler, stretching out the St. Louis tour to fill the requisite hour-plus of a mainstream rap CD. Two years later, though, Nelly proved the depth of his talent with an album that nearly doubled his hit quotient by transforming St. Louis into "Nellyville," a utopian fantasyland where everyone gets "40 acres and a pool." Produced by the Neptunes, the single is flashier than anything on Country Grammar, and the rest of the album follows suit, especially on the numbers where Nelly and a guest artist dives into mainstream pop and R&B waters, like "Dilemma" with Kelly Rowland or "Work It" with Justin Timberlake. At the album's best, it's thrilling to see this former ballplayer swing so confidently (even if he sometimes still whiffs).

Da Derrty Versions remixes all the hits, but Epperson's "reinventions" are so offhand that this quick cash-in could be Nelly's most winning product yet. David Banner turns "Air Force One" into a demonic grunge assault, Ron Isley ("Mr. Biggs himself") reimagines a blaxploitation "Pimp Juice," and "Ride Wit Me" starts as stripped-down cipher and morphs into a chunky pop hit that would sit comfortably in a mix between No Doubt and John Mayer -- and slyly outshine them both. Everyone can ride along, but only one man will drive. (FRANKLIN SOULTS)

From 2004's The New Rolling Stone Album Guide