A quarter of a century later, and Can-I-Bus is as weird and dynamic as ever.
Hip-Hop had rarely seen anything like Germaine “Canibus” Williams when he burst on the scene in the mid to late 1990s. Somehow it’s been loss to time the genuine excitement that he captured when he was unleashed onto the hip-hop scene like a force of nature.
He was a seemingly a can’t miss prospect and an emcee’s emcee, known for dispensing clever punchlines and verbal knock-out blows through animated, gravelly voice. As a ferocious rhyme animal, he tore through his appearances on mixtapes (as in an actual mixtape) from such heavyweights as DJ Clue, Craig G, and Tony Touch. He gave scene-stealing performances on songs with The Lost Boyz, Heltah Skeltah, Ras Kass, Common, LL Cool J, and Wyclef Jean.
In some ways, he was Jay Electronica before Jay Electronica: a forward-thinking, almost futuristic emcee. He was one of the first emcees to write his rhymes on an electronic device (his computer) and one of the first to embrace the World Wide Web. There wasn’t nearly as much mainstream online culture during the late 1990s, and the idea of a rapper having their own website was still rare. He was embracing change while trying to expand the minds of his audience.
However, when the New Jersey-raised emcee delivered his debut, Can-I-Bus, 25 years through Universal, it didn’t have the impact that many envisioned. It sold relatively well, being certified Gold in short order. However, there’s no denying that amongst many of the fans that had been clamoring for the project, the dominant feeling was that of disappointment.
The “problem” with Can-I-Bus at the time is that it went against expectations of what fans were expecting. Given the mixtape freestyles, guest appearances, and his first single, “Second Round KO” (more on that later), most had hoped for a collection of murderous verses over rugged and raw beats. And Can-I-Bus, was not that at all.
What fans received instead was “well-rounded” project. Yes, there were dazzling lyrical displays. But there were also socially conscious tracks. And sentimental songs about his mother. And lots of discussions about the existence of aliens life forms. At times it was flat-out head-scratchingly weird.
Fans also zeroed in on the album’s production, handled by Wyclef Jean and his cousin Jerry Wonda. Now, there is denying that Wyclef was on a helluva hot streak during this period. He was, of course, one-third of the Fugees, a cultural phenomenon in their own right. He was also coming off the release of The Carnival (1997), his own incredibly dope solo album. That said, he was not high on the list of potential collaborators to guide Canibus’ debut. Sure, Canibus had ripped it on Wyclef’s “Gone ’Til November” remix, but the Haitian super-producer was best known for his eclectic production sensibilities and world music dalliances.
Canibus has since said that he chose to partner with Wyclef because ’Clef was the only person that was REALLY looking out for him during that period, motivating him to get into the studio and put together an album. And though Clef’s production is frequently blamed for Can-I-Bus’s faults, it gets a bad rap.
I personally count myself among the camp that believes Can-I-Bus didn’t deserve the flak that it received. Canibus definitely approach the album in an unorthodox manner, forgoing seemingly easy wins to forge an unorthodox path. Not everything works, but Canibus shows a lot of depth as artist. Similarly, the beats are imaginative and work well with Canibus’ voice and flow. Wyclef and other producers on the project all determined that the contrast between the emcee’s no-nonsense delivery and more laid back grooves could achieve good results.
“Patriots” was somewhat of an odd choice of an opening track for Can-I-Bus, but it’s reasonably entertaining and delivering some primo rhyme-oriented boxing. Salaam Remi hooks up a minimalist, string-based track, and Canibus and guest Free trade verses, repping the short-lived Navy Seal camp. “Every MC in your crew will get ruined and wounded,” Canibus raps. “You talk the bullshit, and be too scared to do shit.”
Can-I-Bus is often remembered for “Second Round KO,” Canibus’ blistering dis towards LL Cool J. By the late 1990s, LL had been involved in many beefs over the years, facing off against some of the best in the business, for various reasons. Some of the battles came about due to perceived slights and others were born out of the spirit of competition. As is fairly well known, Canibus’ feud with LL had its genesis in a collaboration, specifically “4, 3, 2, 1” from LL’s Phenomenon (1997). Things during the recording process apparently went awry, and LL’s likely targeted the young upstart during his closing verse.
“Second Round” is one of the better dis tracks directed towards James Todd Smith. Wyclef and Jerry Wondah’s production give the endeavor a suitably epic feel, utilizing searing strings and vocals. Furthermore, the incorporation of portions an extended phone message from Mike Tyson was very much like a coup at the time and an inspired choice. Canibus’ ferocity, both in his delivery and content, is palpable, as he comes across as every bit the uncaged lyrical monster that fans wanted him to be. “You better give me the respect that I deserve or Imma take it by force,” he snarls. “Blast you with a .45 Colt, make you somersault / Shock you with a couple hundred thousand volt thunderbolts / Before you wanted a war, now you wanna talk?”
Sometimes Canibus approaches straight-forward material at an unexpected angle. “Get Retarded” features dropping some lyrical heat, but does over a Salaam Remi-produced track built around a steel-guitar sample. The almost tropical vibe seems incongruous when paired with lyrics like, “Murdering n****s with lyrics manufactured within my DNA’s double-helix,” but hey, I can’t argue with success.
Sometimes Canibus’ non-battle related material shines. “What’s Going On?” is an effective plea against violence, focusing on those who sneak weapons into clubs and concert venues. Canibus shows his less serious side on “Hype-Nitis,” his “’98 version” of Biz Markie’s “Vapors.” He mocks those “people that treated you foul just wanna be nice now,” as he begins to enjoys the fruits of his labor as an emcee. “N***anometry” has Canibus dispensing “lessons” to aspiring artists, warning them about the perils the come with newly acquired money and fame. I must say that the digression about the liquid make-up of the planet Earth during the final portion of the track is an odd choice.
Sometimes Canibus takes things just a little too far. “I Honor U” starts out as a heartfelt dedication to his mother, as he chronicles her origins. Things start to go sideways during the second verse, as Canibus describes **his** own origins, speaking from the perspective of a sperm impregnating his mother’s egg. The third verse, where he speaks as a fetus gestating in his mother’s womb, is better, since it brings the focus back to the woman that birthed him.
Sometimes the subject matter is completely baffling. I have no earthly idea what made Canibus record and release “Channel Zero.” It is a completely straight-faced analysis of how the U.S. government has, for over a half a century negotiated with extraterrestrials to purchase technologically advanced weaponry to use for the subjugation of the population of this planet. The only thing that I’ll add is that Canibus later doubled down on everything he said on this song on “Father Author, Poor Pauper” from For Whom the Beats Tolls (2007). Otherwise, it’s all best forgotten.
Sometimes the beats are the issue. Poor production leads “Let’s Ride” astray, as A Kid Called Roots, then relatively new to the game, tries to hook up some old school rider music. The percussion works, but they keyboards and synthesizers sound soulless. Which is a shame, because “the black Cyrano De Bergerac of rap with the ghetto Anglo-Sax’ poetic syntax” contributes one of his better performances on the album, delivering “rhymes of a sort that distort space and time.”
Sometimes Canibus gives the fans EXACTLY what they’re looking for. “How We Roll” is the closest in feel and structure to the mixtape freestyles that Canibus delivers on Can-I-Bus. Producer Clark Kent manipulates a tiny section of MFSB’s “Something For Nothing,” chopping the sample and continuously altering its speed. On the mic, Canibus is at his hungriest, tearing through the verses, boasting about his complete lyrical dominance. “I’m barbaric with the alphanumeric,” he growls. “Hitting you with lyrics that separate your body from your spirit.”
“Buckingham Palace” is a similarly impressive three-verse verbal display. Canibus effortlessly glides across a string sample hooked-up by Wyclef and Jerry Wondah, as if he was a barracuda or deadly water moccasin. Though portions of each verse were lifted from “Vocab,” a mid-1990s track he recorded as a member of The Heralds of Extreme Metaphors, he adds enough new material to sound as impressive as ever. “Don’t ever get it confused,” he warns. “Fucking with Canibus the human Rubik’s Cube like you got something to prove / Yo, whoever grabs the mic after me get booed / Get everything in the club thrown at you and your crew.”
And sometimes… everything goes completely off the rails, as they do with “Rip Rock.” There’s nothing inherently wrong with blending hard rock and hip-hop. However, “Rip Rock” misfires on every possible level. I’ve never been a fan of the “Nu Metal” scene from the late 1990s/early ’00s, but even that is preferable to what’s feature here. The guitars sound like they were lifted from a bootleg version of guitar hero, the lyrics are uninspired, and the hook is one of the worst of the decade (“Rip! Rock! Rip! Rock!”).
As mentioned earlier, Can-I-Bus was not well-received by fans or the media. In fact, the most notorious bad review of the album was never even printed. Blaze, a late 1990s/early ’00s hip-hop oriented off-shoot of Vibe, had started a relatively novel idea of allowing artists to read negative/lukewarm reviews of their albums and give them a chance to respond. A not-glowing review for Can-I-Bus was to be published in the magazine’s first issue. However, Blaze’s Editor-In-Chief Jesse Washington then alleged that Wyclef pulled a gun on him over the review. Wyclef disputed the account, but Washington publicized the incident and killed the article in response.
The critical panning of the album lead to an acrimonious split between Canibus and Wyclef. On the title track of 2000 B.C. (Before Can-I-Bus) (2000), Canibus’ sophomore album, he apologized for his debut and openly blamed Wyclef for its faults. Wyclef retaliated soon after on “However You Want It” from his The Eclectic: 2 Sides II a Book (2000). The pair eventually squashed the beef sometime in the mid ’00s.
Canibus and Wyclef both seem to be at peace now with how Can-I-Bus turned out. Each has appeared separately on Math Hoffa My Expert Opinion podcast, and their views pretty much line up. They both acknowledged that the album didn’t deliver what the fans wanted at the time, and both agreed that their time touring in Europe influenced the album’s eclectic content. Otherwise, both chalk everything else up to youth, and consider all previous ill will water under the bridge.
In terms of musical output, things actually got worse for Canibus in the immediate future. The aforementioned 2000 B.C. was seemingly tailored to give his fanbase exactly what they had asked for: battle-oriented content over hardcore beats. However, the album barely made a ripple on hip-hop’s consciousness. After leaving Universal, he released C! True Hollywood Stories, which I can say without exaggeration is one of the worst hip-hop albums of the 21st century, and possibly one of the worst of all-time. He eventually got a track with Mic Club: The Curriculum (2002), before peaking with Rip the Jacker (2003).
Overall, Can-I-Bus is still an interesting and often enjoyable album. There are still a few too many avoidable errors to be considered an unqualified success, but it gave hip-hop fans something unique. Canibus may never have recorded another album like Can-I-Bus, but he has retained his desire to defy expectations, recording unorthodox and ambitious material. In an era where many emcees played it safe, going off the beaten path earns Canibus a lot of respect.
