Happy 20th Anniversary to Dr. Dre’s second studio album 2001 (sometimes referred to as The Chronic 2001), originally released November 16, 1999.
The Chronic (1992) may be considered Andre “Dr. Dre” Young’s career-defining project, but 2001 is his best-selling album. Released 20 years ago, it’s just outside of the ten most commercially successful hip-hop albums of all time, moving 7.6 million units to date; by comparison, The Chronic hovers around the top 30 after selling 4.6 million copies. In 2001, it was nominated for a GRAMMY for Best Rap Album and its first single “Still D.R.E.” earned a nomination for Best Rap Performance By a Duo or Group. A year later, he won the Best Rap Performance By a Duo or Group for “Forgot About Dre,” featuring Eminem.
Which is all to say that 2001 was a massive hit in every possible sense. In terms of sales, accolades, and recognition, Dre was, nearly seven years after releasing The Chronic, on top of the world once again. He helped build Death Row Records, jump-started the career of Snoop Doggy Dogg, and then left the label that he’d created due to differences and personality clashes with the notorious Marion “Suge” Knight. He created Aftermath Recordings, distributed through Interscope Records, the label of friend and frequent business partner Jimmy Iovine. And to think, in the years before 2001 dropped, people had wondered if the good doctor’s time had come to pass.
2001 is a reactive album. The underlying theme comes from Aftermath’s growing pains and disappointing initial releases. You’ll be forgiven if you’ve forgotten about the existence of the Dr. Dre Presents… The Aftermath compilation, a collection of music by new and established talent that Dre released in 1996 and hoped to build a label around. The most memorable thing associated with that album is an extended choreographed dance sequence in the video for “Been There, Done That,” where a tux-wearing Dre breaks into a very self-serious tango. The label’s next release, a self-titled album by the supergroup The Firm (made up of Nas, AZ, Foxy Brown and others), was also forgettable. It’s almost impressive that an album featuring some of the most impactful rappers of the day made little to no ripple in hip-hop’s collective consciousness.
Not only were neither Dr. Dre Presents… The Aftermath nor The Firm particularly interesting works of music, they also sold poorly. Given their hype and the talent involved, both releases grossly underperformed. Dre had only produced parts of both albums, but his name was front and center when they sputtered, leading people to question whether he’d lost his touch. Though Death Row Records was stumbling as well (due to the death of 2Pac and another wide exodus of talent), there were rumblings about how a super-producer who could do no wrong could possibly whiff twice in a row.
So Dre set out to prove he was still unfadeable with 2001. The album was conceived to bring to mind thoughts of The Chronic. So much so that the album was originally to be titled Chronic 2000. However, Suge Knight beat Dre to the market with the release of his own Chronic 2000, a compilation made up of the remaining Death Row artists (including a Snoop soundalike named Topp Dogg) and unreleased material from 2Pac and Tha Dogg Pound. The album’s title was later changed again from Chronic 2001 to just 2001 due to complicated legal issues. It hit the shelves months after Aftermath’s first major success, Eminem’s debut major-label release The Slim Shady Album (1999).
2001 sports a much more polished sound than The Chronic. By many accounts, The Chronic was a product of loose weed and alcohol-fueled studio sessions. By contrast, 2001 is much more polished and “clean” sounding. There is little to no samples on the album, with most beats created or recreated through live instrumentation. The album retains a largely Spartan aesthetic, but it still feels “big.” It’s also immaculately mixed and sounds great through car speakers and headphones. Dre conceived it sound cinematic in scope, and he succeeds in that respect. Sadly, by sacrificing the grit, 2001 occasionally sounds cold and mechanical. Overall, it’s still a good album, but it’s not as fun of a listen as Dre’s previous release.
One of the things that made The Chronic so notable was the amount of talent that Dre introduced to the world with that album. Besides making Snoop Dogg a household name, it opened doors for rappers/singers/producers like Nate Dogg, Kurupt, Daz, RBX, Warren G, and Lady of Rage. In contrast, Dre doesn’t commit to breaking as much new talent with 2001.
The artist who receives the most shine is the talented Brian Anthony “Hittman” Bailey, who raps on nine tracks, including a solo outing (“Ackwrite”). However, other newcomers like the skilled Knoc-turn’al, D.O.C. disciple 6.2, Ms. Roq, and Time Bomb only contribute one or two verses apiece. Mostly Dre tangos with who brought him the most earlier success, which is why Snoop Dogg, Nate Dogg, Kurupt, and Eminem, who broke in with Dre’s camp in 1998, receive prominent placement throughout the album.
“The Watcher,” one of a scant few Dre solo tracks, sets the album’s tone, as Dre plays the role of the weary and wary veteran. As one of the architects of hip-hop’s status in popular culture, he professes to have seen and done it all, but still often comes across as bitter for not receiving the respect he believes he deserves from many. He famously mutters that “we started this gangsta shit! And this the motherfucking thanks I get?” Overall, it’s one of Dre’s better lyrical performances on 2001.
It makes sense that for his “comeback” album, Dre would rely on the talents of Snoop Dogg to bolster 2001’s success. Snoop was still among the biggest rap stars on the planet, so utilizing his talents on two of the album’s singles just made sense. Snoop performs the chorus on the back-up vocals for “Still D.R.E.,” the album’s mega-smash of a first single. It’s one of the most distinctive entries on the album and Dre’s catalogue. The beat was crafted with the help of The Roots’ former keyboardist turned producer Scott Storch, who played the instantly recognizable piano line. The lyrics, written entirely by Jay-Z, reflect the theme of much of 2001: Dr. Dre is back to run shit, and if you ever doubted him, you’re a sucker.
Snoop joins Dre again on “The Next Episode,” the enormously successful second single for 2001. Dre, Snoop, and Nate Dogg all make memorable contributions to the track, which features replayed and rearranged elements of David MacCallum’s “The Edge.” The song plays like an upbeat sequel to “Nuthin’ But a ‘G’ Thang,” but with the two older and wiser, and Nate Dogg along for the ride. His loud proclamation to “SMOKE WEED EVERYDAY!” is still funny 20 years later.
Given Eminem’s own gargantuan success earlier in the year, Dre wisely utilizes him twice on 2001. Best known is the aforementioned “Forgot About Dre,” another track where Dre scolds his audience for ever counting him out, but this time by using a double-time flow. Em pops up again on “What’s the Difference?” joining Dre and Likwit Crew member Xzibit in chastising fake rappers. With his verse, Dre also ponders his long and complicated history with N.W.A, pondering Eazy-E’s death and delving in his regret for how things ended.
Dre brings in artists from outside the Aftermath fold and the greater L.A. area to general success. “Fuck You” features crooning and rapping by Houston’s Devin the Dude, a longtime friend and occasional collaborator of Snoop’s. Devin and Snoop join Dre as all three lust over the objects of their desire. Some of the content of the verses are particularly questionable, even for a two-decades-old gangsta rap track, but if nothing else, it reflects what you could get away with saying on record 20 years ago.
“Xxplosive” may not have been an official single for 2001, but it has become a crowd favorite and an anthemic track. It’s also known for its striking production, which is a replaying of Soul Mann & the Brothers’ version of “Bumpy’s Lament.” The contributions by the rappers and singers are also particularly entertaining as well. With his opening verse, Kurupt may set a record for the most number of usages of the word “bitch” in the shortest period of time. His may not be the most enlightened turns of phrases in rap history, but he states them with such conviction and contempt that it’s almost commendable.
“Light Speed” is a brief and eerie track that features Dre’s other standout lyrical performance on the album. Here Dre uses a positively intricate flow, tying together phrases and rhymes in complex ways. “Who say Dre ain’t ghetto? Just whistle like a tea kettle / I throw three at you, tell me if you see devils / ’Cause we rebels over here, I smell chronic in the air / That means we taking over this year, you hear?” Hittman also delivers one of his best verses on the album, rapping, “In these drastic surroundings, it be sounding like Lebanon / Making fools “Retreat!” like Megatron / And Starscream; oh yeah I scream on stars / That get loot then crossover like Kareem Abdul-Jabbar.”
2001 features a stretch of often overlooked tracks on the album that are interesting mostly due to their production. “Let’s Get High” is the album’s only real party anthem and one of only a couple of tracks on the album that came close to recapturing the early ’90s G-Funk sound. “Bitch N****z” is refreshing in its smaller scope, as Dre and Mel-Man hook up a deceptively simple drum track and layer it with a plucky bassline and sparse guitar licks. “Murder Ink” evokes N.W.A’s “Approach to Danger,” as Dre reinterprets John Carpenter’s “Halloween Theme,” as Hittman and Ms. Toq assume the roles of contract killers, detailing their double lives.
“Some LA N****z” is a slow and dark posse cut that also harkens back to the G-Funk sound of earlier in the decade. As the title suggests, the song spotlights talent from many different eras of L.A. hip-hop, as well as underground talent. Along with newcomers Hittman and Time Bomb, King Tee, Xzibit, and Defari deliver verses. Notably the opening line of each rapper’s verse is taken from a classic song by an L.A.-based artist. In the most overt throwback to the N.W.A days, MC Ren delivers the song’s intro, while rapper/singer Kokane croons a gangsta-ass chorus.
“Bang Bang” is the album’s sole “socially conscious” entry, as Knoc-turn’al and Hittman join Dre to ruminate over the abundant street violence that’s still a persistent presence on the streets of Los Angeles, with the former emcee rapping, “On every corner, Cali n****s are dumping / You’ll be shaking your soul loose from the box at the coroner’s / Making death not so foreign to ya.”
The album ends with “The Message,” Dre’s dedication to his fallen brother, Tyree. It’s the only song on the album where Dre doesn’t receive a production credit, as rapper/producer Lord Finesse puts together the somber track, anchored by melodious and melancholy keys and strings. Featuring Mary J. Blige’s vocal contributions, the song features some poignant thoughts by Dre on life, loss, pain, and spirituality, as he addresses both his deceased brother and the spiritual deity that took him from this planet.
The massive success of 2001 was instrumental in transforming Dre into what he is today, which is, among other things, a headphone mogul reportedly worth over a billion dollars. He released Compton (2015), his final album, over 15 years after 2001 hit the shelves. It only went Gold, but at this point, music now only accounts for a minor part of Dre’s fortune.
Even if 2001 is a more constrained release than The Chronic, it served Dre well. It would have been unfair to believe that Dre would be recording and releasing music in the same type of way in 1992 and 1999, but by in large he found a way to please his core audience and millions of other fans worldwide with 2001. No one certainly has ever forgotten about Dre to this day.
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