Whenever I read anything from Saul Williams or hear his music, I am just blown away and feel like a schoolgirl in her first writing class. His mind is so intense and overflowing with the ability to make the line of thinking and words into a bullet train, his works fly faster than any human could possibly keep up with. But you have no choice but try, even if it takes listening to this for a month straight just to absorb every message and memorize every rhythm.
Comparing Amethyst Rock Star to this self-titled release in 2004, Saul has turned in his meditation pillow and café reflection for street anger perspectives, biting urban beats and an arsenal of rock riffs. “There nothing more powerful than an idea who’s time has come.” That’s the ending line on “Talk To Strangers” and sets the tone for the whole album.
Quirky telephone lined tones twist free among the “Grippo,” where Saul gets back to his slam roots on “Telegram,” but now he’s even fiercer than before, setting off car alarms through the alleyways. Recruiting Zack de la Rocha for “Act III Scene 2 (Shakespeare)” was the right move to light the cannon, shooting out a call out to the youth across the country that dream, fighting past the fear to get to the truth, and the messed up road where generic consumerism meets the throes of war.
The anthem of it all comes about on “List of Dreams,” drowning in a heavy and haunting downpour of synthesized chaos, an epic plea for the underprivileged and neglected, but no less or more relevant than the warm leatherette cape of “African Student Movement.”
Between Saul Williams’ poetic and intellectual mind, musical ingenuity, acting prowess, and humanitarian activism, this man has firmly planted himself in our culture’s history books as someone who was a voice for those that had none.
