1989's Straight Outta Compton, by Dre's previous outfit N.W.A., may have shined the public spotlight on the genre, but The Chronic legitimized it. That is not to say that Snoop Doggy Dogg (The Chronic marks his debut) and Dre's raps are for everyone; the subject matter is the sex, drugs, violence, and politics of South Central Los Angeles, and the phrasing is explicit, to say the least. But The Chronic's real genius is the music. By breeding hip-hop, jazz (studio instrumentation includes saxophones and flutes), funk, and soul (sampled artists include Parliament, Donny Hathaway, and Isaac Hayes), Dre creates downright intoxicating grooves. If you can't feel The Chronic pulsating through your veins, maybe your heart's not pumping. --Bill Crandall
Despite the number of guests on hand, Dr. Dre's decade-/century-/millennium-ending sequel to The Chronic is, like its predecessor, less a stack of posse cuts and more an elegantly seamless work from West Coast hip-hop's premier auteur. Deliberately cinematic in everything from its mix of moods to dramatic musical surges, 2001 is Dre's assessment of the gangsta life in medium shots. No longer fully immersed in violence and random sex, yet aware of their attraction, he often lets his guests blow steam about whatever's on their minds. When he takes stock of gangbanging circa late '99, though, he drops his neutral tone; he even provides another half-joking but stern warning to protégé Eminem on "What's the Difference." Between his discovery of Slim Shady, visits from old pal Snoop Dogg, and, most of all, the masterful sound and flow of this CD, Dre should shut down all talk of his supposed irrelevance. --Rickey Wright
