

Too much of King’s Disease is both tedious and dubious. King’s Disease does not lift that feeling. You might not know what happened in this person’s private life, but you know enough to be bummed out over it. It throws all of Life Is Good into harsh relief, and it casts a shadow over every moment on King’s Disease where Nas laments his own love life or attempts to advocate for better communication. Whether or not you believe Kelis, the whole saga of their failed marriage is a sad and fucked-up one, and it clashes badly with the sensitive-poet persona that Nas sometimes adapts. The second defining Nas moment came in 2018, when Kelis, his ex-wife, claimed that her marriage to Nas had included “a lot of mental and physical abuse.” Nas strenuously denied Kelis’ allegations. Nas himself eagerly took up the heroic-symbol mantle, showing up on the remix to mythologize his own story and bestow kingly approval on Cole after all. It’s a testament to the kind of confusion that can come from regarding a man as a heroic symbol rather than just an artist who made some work that you love. The backstory on “Let Nas Down” was that Cole had heard that Nas didn’t like the radio single he’d made, and that sent Cole down such a self-doubt spiral that he went and made a whole song about it. Cole released in 2013, right when Cole was in the midst of becoming a massive star himself. One of those moments is “Let Nas Down,” the single that J. The two defining Nas moments in the 2010s didn’t have much to do with Nas’ music.

That’s a one pretty good album ever 10 year average. In those 10 years, Nas released two albums: 2012’s Life Is Good, a mature and reflective grown-man divorce album that I remember thinking was pretty good, and Nasir, a sloppy and rushed and crushingly disappointing Kanye West production. Just over 10 years separates Distant Relatives, Nas and Damian Marley’s pretty decent collaborative album, and King’s Disease, the LP that Nas released on Friday. It’s been a quiet decade for Nasir Jones.
