Shit, That Song’s Good: Patience
‘Shit, That Song’s Good’ is an occasional series of articles based around some of my favourite tracks; how they came about, why they’re special and what they mean to me.
Nas & Damian Marley — Patience
Truth be told, I’d totally forgotten about this blog, but having rediscovered it, I thought it would be good to use this as an outpost for some of my writing outside of work.
With the 11th anniversary of the release of Nas and Damian Marley’s Distant Relatives album having just passed it seemed like an appropriate time to get stuck into the best cut on the album and one of the better tracks of both men’s careers.
When Distant Relatives dropped in May 2010 it received a lot of positive buzz, with critics praising its concept and the tackling of tough subjects within the album’s songs. It was originally meant to be an EP based on Africa, but Nas and Damian Marley enjoyed the linkup so much that they decided to turn it into a full-length album.
At the core of the record, a hip hop and reggae fusion, from New Yorker, Nas, and the Jamaican, Damian Marley, is their shared ancestry in Africa. The notion of shared ancestry and the roots of human life originating in the cradle of humanity, is something which constantly runs through and informs this album.
The likes of As We Enter and Nah Mean are great songs but it’s Patience that steals the show. The first thing that leaps out is the sample, the haunting chorus of Amadou & Mariam’s Sabali (which is Malian for Patience) is weaved throughout the song, adding a hypnotic quality and emphasising the reflective nature of the track, such is the other worldly nature of the sample. Sampling the Malian duo just adds to the international flavour of the track, further underlining the recurring themes of the album and track itself. The original track is incredible in it’s own right but this sample is one of the greatest in hip-hop history. The production in general, from Damian’s brother, another of the Marley offspring, Stephen Marley, is the best of his career.
The alternating verses of Nas and Damian Marley work well together, with Damian Marley’s reggae influenced flow a perfect compliment to Nas’ brash New York delivery. Their chemistry is undeniable with both men singing from the same hymn sheet and creating a track which is that rarest of things, a hip-hop track which makes you think and keeps you coming back for more, even a decade later.
The tracks lyrics reflect on the nature of humanity, the history of the species, religion and more. It’s always tough to raise deep questions in song without sounding like a sixth form poet, or coming off like a pastiche of John Lennon’s Imagine, but this track largely succeeds.
A lot is covered in this (nearly) six minutes, and while some of it does come across as a bit first year philosophy student, especially when Nas asks “Who made up words? Who made up numbers?”, the majority of is cutting and manages to avoid cliche.
Damian Marley targets western greed, ecological efforts and the media but saves some of his harshest words for religion stating that “Evangelists making a living on the videos of ribs of the little kids.” The suffering of youth is a repeated topic, with Jr Gong also asking how we can fly to the moon but “can’t find food for the starving tummies.”
Some of the best bars are those which take aim at the colonial rehoming, and interpretation, of historical artefacts. Marley begins the track mocking the “smartest dummies” who can’t read hieroglyphics after having taken them. Before commenting about the large amount of historical African artefacts now at home in foreign museums.
“You buy a khaki pants. And all of a sudden you say a Indiana Jones. An’ a thief out the gold and thief out the scrolls and even the buried bones.”
It’s certainly something that will resonate with you if you’ve visited any of the world’s leading museums, which all provoke heated debate on the ownership of some hugely significant pieces of human history.
Kendrick Lamar released his first album a year after Distant Relatives came out and I’d argue this album played a huge role in the emergence of socially conscious rap. The use of the Amadou & Mariam sample also beckoned in a wave of African samples and an era of cross pollination which has continued to this day.
Patience is built on an African sample, performed by Jamaican and American artists, and is a true celebration of humankind. A modern classic.
