Note: Although the release of Nellyville occurred a few months ago, the premiere of the film Snipes, starring Nelly, necessitates a review of Nellyville to inform the Macalester Community of this artist’s most recent work.

The world of music waited breathlessly this summer as the hottest sensation on earth, Nelly, promised a second full-length album. Nellyville, the follow-up to the octuple-platinum Country Grammar, was by far the most anticipated recording of 2002. Not all critics were optimistic, however. Nelly’s stunning rise to superfame included side projects with the likes of *Nsync and Jagged Edge, and of course the much-hyped Super Bowl appearance, so many believed that Nelly lost his gritty street appeal and trademark St. Louis style. Nellyville, however, succeeded in dispelling the fears of the true fans and satisfying the TRL-boppers with more grace than anyone could have expected, even from an artist of Cornell Haynes’ caliber. In fact, with a few dreadful exceptions, Nellyville shines with outstanding summertime hits while including enough of the midwest swing to satisfy the true Nelly fans.

Admittedly, Nelly made mistakes on this album. The ubiquitous “Hot in Herre” with its annoying Neptunes beat and inane chorus (“it’s getting hot in here / so take off all your clothes”) was a disgrace as the summer’s hot single and really only showcased Nelly at his worst. Its inexplicable popularity speaks to the sheer ignorance of the masses as to what this St. Louis rapper can truly accomplish with his rhymes. I cannot count the number of times I have heard “Oh yeah, I love Nelly – ‘I am getting so hot…’” No true Nelly enthusiast will acknowledge that song as a basis for fandom.

Nelly also records one other ill-advised track, “Work It.” My heart dropped as I read the back of my album on the way out of the store at 12:02 a.m. on June 25, holding the fourth copy to be legally purchased in St. Louis. The words that caused this mood swing were “featuring Justin Timberlake.” The grating cacophony of Timberlake’s robotic voice drowns out Nelly’s best efforts to resuscitate this doomed song, and Justin’s mere appearance on this album is a slap in the face to true Nelly fans. Can you imagine Timberlake on any song from Country Grammar? I shudder to imagine his cookie-cutter vocals on “Greed, Hate, Envy” or “Batter Up,” as any connoisseur undoubtedly would.

This insult to Nelly’s skill is forgiven, though, as the rest of the album unfolds around the listener. Nelly and his crew, the St. Lunatics, spin tales of a world of spectacular wealth and happiness. Whereas Country Grammar reminisced about drug deals and shootings, Nelly has transcended the world of violence and created a fantasy land, Nellyville, where he is the mayor and “even the paperboy delivers out the back of a Range [Rover]” Nellyville, as we learn in the song of the same name, is a place where no one can be harmed, everyone is happy, and even the weather follows the whims of the inhabitants. The construction of this utopian society, in implied yet direct opposition to the distinctly non-utopian St. Louis of Nelly’s youth, is a powerful mechanism that serves as both a dynamic allegory for Nelly’s own material success (the fact that he can indeed buy whatever he wants, live wherever he wants, etc.) and as a model for his fans to emulate. By presenting Nellyville as a fantasy that Nelly himself has realized, he endows his listeners with the agency to create their own “Nellyvilles,” fantasies to be achieved in whatever arena that particular listener considers to be his or her own.

What is most impressive about the album is that this modern-day Robert Owen reinforces his utopian vision by reminding us consistently of the possibilities of material wealth but also peaceful happiness in the ideal land of Nellyville. In one of the strongest tracks on the album “CG2” (the sequel to “Country Grammar”), all of the Lunatics revel in their new purchases, especially of GMC Denalis, Lexus LS430s, and classic Cutlasses. The hook “we coming back down baby …” is derived from the popular hook of “Country Grammar” and is an honorable nod to the past with a fresh update for 2002. Notably, all of the Lunatics chime in on this track, the precursor to which only had Nelly. In addition, the Lunatics demonstrate their grasp of city politics when St. Lunatic Ali rhetorically asks “Mister Officer, where Clarence Harmon [former St. Louis mayor who would not acknowledge Nelly as a positive contributor to St. Louis] at?”

The most impressive performance of the Lunatics is found in “Air Force Ones,” titled after the Nike shoe of the same name. The topics of the lyrics are the acquistition of the popular Nike shoes, each member’s color preference, and experiences in the shoe store. As the Lunatics chant “give me two pairs” before explicating their individual preferences, the listener is swept away in a paradise of shoe-buying where the only worry is that Foot Locker doesn’t have two pairs of white and blue Air Force Ones. Such a utopia is made accessible by the stylings of Nelly, and this song in particular provides a point of psychological entry to the realm of Nellyville, as many can own this model of shoe with relative ease

Another powerful trope deftly wielded by Nelly on this disc is explained fully in the song “Pimp Juice.” As Nelly purrs in this soulful and melodic track, the Pimp Juice is simply “anything that attracts the opposite sex / it could be money, fame, or straight intellect” and further, “Pimp Juice is colorblind / you find it work[s] on all colors, creeds and kinds / from ages fifty right down to nine.” This vibrant analysis of sexual attraction that transcends boundaries of race and class is a progressive and dynamic motif that Nelly brings out of the world of the album into our own world with “Pimp Juice” weekends at the premiere of his record. Pimp Juice ceases to be an elusive concept on the album but an influential and tangible force that creates the summer’s hottest jams and explains women’s love for Nelly.

In countless ways on Nellyville, Nelly and the rest of the St. Lunatics blend St. Louis style and the most advanced philosophies of “urban utopianism” to weave a stunning and graceful album of hope, happiness, and lots of iced out chains.