No disro' to the QB (keep bangin' Mobb) - but this is real quiet storm rap. Not subdued-yet-ultimately-insidious quiet storm rap, but that after-ten-raspy-voiced-radio- host quiet storm rap. Back with his third track rack, I Want It All illuminates the Left Coast maestro of G-Funk as a hip-hop conductor par excellence. I Want It All is a verdant soundscape blooming with delicate snares, subtly sprouting synths, luxurious legato meadows, and the ambrosial kisses of R&B breezes. This is G-Funk: composed, sedated, lush.
Warren G is a tight producer, but we knew that already (that's why we copped four million copies of his debut, Regulate). What we may not know, (besides that I Want It All is head, shoulders, and torso above Warren G's disappointing Take A Look Over Your Shoulder), is that Warren G is a masterful Master of Ceremonies. Consider I Want It All's production the house in which Warren G hosts a circle of eclectic yet condign guests — a taste: Snoop Doggy Dogg, Kurupt, El Debarge, Eve, Drag-On, and Slick Rick — and his tracks conversation pieces. Yet with such diverse collaborators, the ciphers ultimately cohere, and the album remains consistent. Even ""We Got That,"" produced by Brick City's Vada Nobles and incised by Eve and Drag-On, still oozes dat laidback G-Funk. But Warren G's best dyad is with the equally reposed Snoop Doggy Dogg: ""You Never Know"" sounds like the very definition of relaxation and ""Game Don't Wait"" tickles with the duo's tales of game. The only cameo that yawns is Jermaine Dupri's (is he extorting rappers for cameos?) on the humdrum ""Havin' Things.""
Though Warren G may be a dope Master of Ceremonies, he ain't a tight MC. His is rap at its simplest, devoid of imagery, metaphor, wit, and originality. Aside from the affecting tribute ""My Momma"" (which contains Warren G's only memorable image on the album: ""she stood tall and proud like a supermodel on a catwalk""),
G rhymes strictly about the three Gs — gangstas, game, and g-spots — with unvarying delivery. It don't matter, though. By slicing the disc with 18 guest lyricists, Warren G's rhymes are as central to this album as Burt Bacharach's. Songs like ""G-Spot,"" seductive with a spirituous blend of El Debarge and singer Val Young and the intoxicating ""Dope Beat"" are so suave that you don't care who's rapping or what they're rapping about. Smooth, so quiet storm smooth you can almost go to sleep to it — but definitely not on it.
