![]() But by virtue of Jay’s uncharacteristically revealing lyrics and sole producer No I.D.’s skittering, evocative flips of soul classics, the record is a new take on Americana music. Because it’s still a rap record, 4:44 doesn’t elicit the same genre-shock as other midcareer artists trying to change their style like Robert Plant playing bluegrass or Joni Mitchell singing jazz, or even Johnny Cash growling Rick Rubin-produced hurt by the fireside. Released Friday morning just after midnight, Jay-Z’s 4:44 is a bracing first-listen because it’s so different from everything else in his braggadocious catalog. Jay-Z, the man who once nicknamed himself J-Hova, like God, has finally made a come-to-Jesus album.
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