Review: Ta’Raach, “The Fevers”

Ta’Raach & the Lovelution
The Fevers
Sound in Color

Rating: ★★½☆☆ 

Ta’Raach is one of many shining stars that dot the sky that is the Detroit hip-hop landscape. His contributions with such heavyweights as Platinum Pied Pipers, Dwele and the late great J Dilla have garnered praise amongst fans and peers alike. The Fevers has been much anticipated by followers of understream hip-hop.

While Ta’Raach (the artist formerly known as Lacks) does show versatility, he never quite gets his chin over the bar set by his noteworthy D-mates. There are shining moments, don’t get me wrong. The “Teenage Love” inspired “Hold On” is a good look and showcases T’s buttery vocals and unique timing and delivery. “I Name (E.G.I.G.)” lets T and guest Fuzz Scoota touch on the struggles of being gwop-less. A tired subject, yes, but T and Fuzz manage to get over that hump, mostly thanks to the production.

The two standout tracks on this record live right next to each other. “Liberation’s Lullabye” is a soulful blend of T’s fluid production and Joy Jones’ illuminating tone. Right across the street lives “Merci Me Lord.” Everybody in that house BOUNCES. They hand out neck braces at every house party they have. In other words, this track knocks.

Ta’Raach is a talented, versatile producer with a proven track record and an ear for sultry bass lines. If The Fevers would have come out two years ago, he would get four stars from me. The only problem is that his style has been done so many times already. Maybe I’ve listened to too many Slum Village albums and bootlegs. Maybe I’m still bitter that the Elzhi album never dropped. Most of this record just sounds like the same gumbo recipe that Dilla (R.I.P.) gave us. This is not a bad record, but I just felt bored at some points.

If you’re a collector of artists from the D, then you’ll probably want to pick up The Fevers and keep it next to your Frank-N-Dank album on your IKEA Expedit shelving system. But if you don’t, I highly doubt you’ll be kicking yourself in the ass about it later.

— Marc Stretch

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