Common and Pete Rock’s Collaboration Album ‘The Auditorium Vol. 1’ Is the Hip-Hop Album I Never Knew I Was Waiting For

There was a time when the pairing of rapper Common and producer Pete Rock would have easily been my most anticipated album of the 12 months. Common, a Chicago rapper turned multi-dimensional rapper, has long been one in all the most beloved MCs in hip-hop; he commands the respect of his hip-hop peers and has produced quite a few commercially successful albums and songs. “Light,” Common’s track, produced by the late GOAT producer J Dilla, is now hip-hop canon.

Likewise, Pete Rock is one in all the most praised and respected producers of ’90s boom-bap, hip-hop. He too has productions at the level of the hip-hop canon; “They Remember You (TROY)” Pete’s record along with his former bandmate CL Smooth might be the best beat in hip-hop history. It’s my favorite record of all time, no matter genre, and while “best” of anything often becomes a matter of taste, there’s no conversation about best production without this song.

When the news broke that two of the best artists from the golden era of hip-hop were collaborating on a project — the recently released “The Auditorium Vol 1” — my interest was piqued. As some extent of reference, Nas is currently working on a collaboration with DJ Premier — clearly, the GOAT level artists of the 90s have decided to collaborate. Now, I need to admit that while my interest has piqued, I do have some reservations. Listen, I’m incredibly comfortable that so a lot of my favorite artists are still capable of make work and make a living off of hip-hop. Hip-hop fans my age (mid-40s) often complain about the newer era of hip-hop and rap music, or whether hip-hop is what younger individuals are doing. As might be the case with any genre of music, as newer and younger artists enter the arena, the sound changes and evolves, and the music becomes less consistent with previous generations. This also often signifies that when older people proceed to create, their work seems outdated and less interesting, even to the core audience.

While each Common and Pete Rock are accountable for classic material, I think it’s fair to say that their best days have been behind them for many years. I’m sure neither of their egos would allow them to confess it, but I am a consumer, fan, and sometimes apologist who still listens to Common’s Like Water for Chocolate (1999) and each of Pete’s instrumental albums like they got here out yesterday. I love these artists and haven’t been as involved with any of their recent output beyond just a few listens. I will all the time pay them respect by paying for his or her projects and downloading them and listening to them because I appreciate what they’ve given to the culture and to me as a fan.

So I got excited when the first album I heard from the duo, Wise Up , had a vintage feel but sounded the better of each: Common spitting with the same drive that’s kept him in so many conversations as one in all the best rappers, and Pete with the form of groove that just… works. It’s an indicator of the entire album — vintage but on-point Pete Rock production with a ton of melodies and basslines that feel as impressive in 2024 as they did in 1992. Common sounds inspired, too. It’s almost like Common and Pete decided to be their best possible selves for a dream collaboration that each hip-hop fan still arguing about the top 5 didn’t even know we would have liked.

For example, Pete may need my 4 favorite lines on the album when he starts rapping on “All Kinds of Ideas” with the words, “I’m a soul brotha uno, Black from the future/make beats on my table if I spoil my computer/I still make hits like I used to/keep your top 5, I’m God’s favorite manufacturer.” I can’t let you know how excited I am about that; Pete has never been my favorite producer on the mic, but lines like that put a smile on my face. Not to say that the beat itself is the form of production that has made Pete Rock my favorite producer in the genre. The entire project is filled with beats which can be different enough to indicate Pete’s range while still staying true to his talents. “Fortunate,” “Now and Then,” “When the Sun Shines Again,” and “Dreamin’,” amongst others, are the explanation why anytime Pete Rock is a component of a project, whether solo or with others, I need to a minimum of take heed to it. Pete gon’ Pete and that is excellent news for each hip-hop fan.

And then there’s Common. I’ve criticized Common as a rapper for years. Mainly because I think Common was, for some time, one in all the best rappers to ever do it. He was a minimum of a part of the conversation about the top 10 rappers to do it. But I felt like Common’s growing success had polished him just a little bit. One of my favorite things about Common has all the time been his willingness to talk truth to power, regardless of whose feathers it would irritate. That led to his high-profile feud with Ice Cube and led him to repeatedly call out rap and hip-hop as an entire for being “shiny suits.” But all that modified sooner or later as his platform and profile grew. That’s not a foul thing, and even unusual — no pun intended. I just think it sometimes made Common the least compelling a part of his own albums. Still a superb rapper and songwriter, just different. It looks as if a silly thing to complain about or indicate — far be it from me to need to stifle anyone’s growth and evolution — but the conversation surrounding Common has modified from legendary rapper to rap megastar, if that is smart. Namely, Common is only a Tony Award away from a highly coveted EGOT, having won an Emmy, multiple Grammys and an Oscarfirst rapper to do it.

Music

Common on “The Auditorium Vol. 1” feels like the perfect mix of the old Common who wanted you to care about his verses and the present Common who knows he’s one in all the best to ever play and has nothing to prove to anyone, like the Common in the song “To be” from his 2005 album of the same name. I found myself reconnecting with Common’s verses in a way I haven’t been shortly. Which may say more about me than him as a rapper, but that’s just the way it is. All I know is that I enjoyed listening to Common over this Pete production.

Speaking of Pete producing (again), one in all his calling cards has all the time been using snippets of songs at the starting of records. The most famous example is The Beginning of The End “She promised me” which opens “They Reminisce Over You (TROY)”. On “The Auditorium Vol. 1”, Pete follows the same practice, but places snippets of songs at the end of the records, which either open the next song or end the previous one. I do not know, but I’m glad the snippets are there, adding to the vintage feel I have for the record.

The Auditorium Vol. 1 just isn’t an ideal record, but perfection is overrated and should never be the enemy of excellent. Two of the most respected talents in hip-hop history have created an album I didn’t know I’d be serious about in 2024. But not only am I interested, they’ve released a project that’s value listening to over and another time, not simply because it jogs my memory of 1997, but because, because it seems, 1997 still sounds amazing in 2024.

I hope Pete and Common still have loads of ideas, because if that’s the case, I’ll be waiting for the next installment in the middle of an auditorium.