It’s understandable why those with a boom-bap bent have endorsed Vado as their ambassador (no Bolton). With New York starving for a superstar and the name Maino lingering in hottest local rapper circles, Killa Cam’s right hand man seems like a gust of fresh O.G Kush. He’s essentially a better rapping but less funny Jim Jones — a brawny henchmen to balance out Cam’s technicolor tomfoolery. And “Slime,” with its tacit Ghostbusters reference ranks among the year’s catchiest ad-libs. If only, they were wise enough to take the cover photo in front of the New York Public Library, instead of this cliched boardroom and Cohiba portrait .
His commercial debut Slime Flu is solid but unspectacular affair. A nuts and blunts workman-like effort that neither fulfills my hopes (12 “Large in the Streets‘) or my worst fears (12 love songs to Ralph Lauren and monopoly money tailored to Hot 97 — the last terrestrial station that will support them). The pick of the pack is “Celebration,” where Vado strikes a balance between celebratory swag rap and anachronistic brass soul. Should he ever decide to loosen up the necktie and ditch the conservatism , Vado could be real contender. In the interim, New York could do far worse. Nature abhors a vacuum and most of the competition sucks.–Weiss