avatars-000057851276-4eacvd-t500x500Evan Nabavian invented grape Kool-Aid.

The other day my boss said something like, “Let’s review your report tomorrow?”

“Bong bong,” I said.

A pause.

“Indeed.”

Read any RZA interview in the past ten years and you’ll get the “Wu-Tang Forever” spiel about the influence of the Wu in the world today. Drake echoed those sentiments just last month over a box of tissues and a lonely a carton of ice cream. But what about the Abbot himself? Can we still count on RZA to bear the legacy of the Killa Beez?

I only watched the opening credits of his movie, but it was disturbing to see RZA emulate Zack Snyder more than Chang Cheh (minus 10 points on the Wu-Tang scorecard). He also just released a single with Yoko Ono which is probably the polar opposite of knocking up Erykah Badu (minus another 25 points).

But all is forgiven thanks to a collaboration with Christian Rich. “Supaman” is a druggy freestyle where RZA amuses himself with trite internal rhymes and double entendres. Ghost might call them paisley darts. The carefree bars (“Executive deluxe suites, / Smackin’ on her butt cheeks”) exist apart from movie budgets and gaudy artistic statements. It’s like MF Doom came on after Interpol on RZA’s Pandora and he remembered how much he loves blunted loops. Or he was moving some Kill Bill posters into the attic when he caught a glimpse of the Bobby Digital armor. Either way, RZA dumbing out over a goofball beat is Wu-Tang incarnate.