Rating:
Genre:
Rap
Release Date: 11/14/2006
While his big rival and former employer,
50 Cent, squandered his success by spreading himself too thin with video games, films, and a whole lot of time devoted to the
G-Unit empire,
the Game spent his time working the streets with beef-minded, sometimes-epic freestyles landing on mixtapes. Every time the
G-Unit versus
Game beef was just about to be settled,
the Game showed up late to sign the treaty, and then, when he was called out on it, he would retaliate as hard as before, bringing everything back to square one. His mentor,
Dr. Dre, told him to lie low, but give
the Game good advice and he'll do the opposite, as if he were compelled to do so by some unseen force (probably his mile-high ego). As the release date of his heavily anticipated
Doctor's Advocate approached, things got weird. Because of the
G-Unit contract, nobody was sure if the album would say
Aftermath or
Insterscope on the back. In the final moments, it was revealed that the cover art shamelessly references his debut, and then -- towering above it all -- there was
Dre's absence from the final product, and yet the album's original,
Dre-boasting title sticks like a final "screw you"/"bring it on" pointed right at the haters. As all this drama spills into the actual album and feeds the cocksure rapper's craving for chaos, it becomes obvious the "sophomore slump" wasn't enough of a challenge for
the Game, and even more obvious that he's following a career path of his own. Just like
The Documentary,
Doctor's Advocate is obsessed with the West Coast, especially
Dre. The Doctor's name is dropped incessantly, to the point it will drive haters and anyone unfamiliar with
the Game's history crazy. The ghost of
Dre is there in every instantly grabbing club-banger and fierce street track that arcs up to the key title track, where
the Game lays it all on the table with an open letter to the producer. He uses words like "family" and "father" to pay tribute to their relationship before
Aftermath and
Dre associate
Busta Rhymes is brought in as a guest just to amp up the desperation question. On paper,
Doctor's Advocate sounds like the blueprint for the most desperate follow-up ever, with
the Game treating the universe as his fanboy while constantly referencing people who aren't here and an era of which he's not a part, the golden age of the West Coast. On the crip-walkin'
"Da S***" there's talk of bringing back
Doggystyle and
The Chronic; on
"California Vacation," with
Snoop by his side, he claims to be previewing
Dre's so-far unreleased
Detox album; and
"Compton"'s old-school bounce is firmly 1993 and produced by
will.i.am, who returns to his hood sound after years with the polished
Black Eyed Peas.
will's transformation back is just one of the magical things that happens around and in spite of
the Game's flippant attitude and decidedly one-track mind. Other beat-makers like
Kanye West,
Just Blaze,
Scott Storch, and
Swizz Beatz are all on fire, and guests like
Tha Dogg Pound,
Nas, and
Xzibit give their all to an album that doesn't even bother to mention them on the back cover. Course, toying with expectations and respect is the dangerous tightrope
the Game walks brilliantly, and while this is nothing new, the fact remains that every track here is as good as or better than those on his debut. There's no precedent for an album that worships a no-show so hard on one hand, flips the bird to
hip-hop protocol with the other, and knowingly refuses to push things forward, even flaunts it. What's fascinating is how
the Game sets up all these obstacles for himself, just to prove he's unstoppable, and offers a decided placeholder album when most would have gone a different route. The place he's holding is on top, and even without
Dre,
Doctor's Advocate suggests he shouldn't budge.
~David Jeffries, All Music Guide
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