Jay-Z, Kanye West celebrate success, reflect on life as Watch The Throne

Is there such a thing as humble hubris?

Doesn't bluster tend to pave over introspection like a hot tar of hauteur?

Those questions are raised -- along with many glasses of champagne -- via "Watch the Throne," the blockbuster collaboration between two of hip-hop's prime movers: reigning kingpin Jay-Z, the genre's Neptune-cool CEO, and the equally flamboyant and fragile Kanye West, who is a rap Renaissance man, agitant and epicurean all at once.

The duo's debut project, released in August, is a lot of things: a victory lap for a pair of hip-hop hall of famers, a celebration of African-American achievement, an occasional pause for reflection.

The album begins with perhaps its most de rigeur moment, some unbridled triumphalism in the form of "H.A.M." where the two carry themselves like conquering heroes returning from battle, buttressed by operatic backing vocals and Wagnerian strings.

"Bow down, brother pay homage," Jay-Z exhorts at song's end, demanding his due for the duo's self-annointed greatness.

It's a number meant to both assert the duo's place in the hip-hop pecking order and put everyone else in theirs.

This is a prestige project, and the two let listeners know it, flaunting their respective pedigrees like fine jewelry.

"Couture level flow, it's never going on sale. Luxury rap, the Hermes of verses, sophisticated ignorance, write my curses in cursive," West raps on "Otis" over a looped sample of Otis Redding emoting like he was traversing hot coals barefoot.

But all this is to be expected from the duo -- we've heard it before from both of them -- but what distinguishes "Watch the Throne" is that the disc also distills a variety of emotions and an often unguarded sentiment.

This isn't an entirely new development for West.

He's one of hip-hop's most sensitive artists with an ego as delicate as papier-mache, a millionaire martyr with a serious persecution complex, but he's long acknowledged his own role in garnering unfavorable headlines.

"Man, it's so hard not to act reckless," he raps on "Can't Tell Me Nothing" off his 2007 disc "Graduation." "I feel the pressure, under more scrutiny. And what I do? Act more stupidly."

On "Watch the Throne" though, he sounds more ruminative and pensive in places, as if being with a hip-hop elder such as Jay-Z makes him think of his own future to a greater extent than he has previously.

"I'll never let my son have an ego. He'll be nice to everyone, wherever we go," West rhymes on "New Day" over a backdrop of sampled horns, tendrils of guitar and a Nina Simone sample.

"Just want him to be someone people like," he adds later in the song. "Don't want him to be hated, all the time judged. Don't be like your daddy that would never budge."

For his part, Jay-Z also gets contemplative when pondering the life of a future son on the same track.

"Teach ya good values, so you cherish it. Took me 26 years to find my path. My only job is cuttin' the time in half," he rhymes.

Jay-Z is not one for overemoting -- he's an even-keel performer, seldom getting worked up over anything, even when he's spitting verbal buckshot at a rival MC -- but one "Watch the Throne," he paints a fuller portrait of himself, humanizing his larger-than-life stage persona.

"My uncle died, my daddy did, too. Paralyzed by the pain, I can barely move," he relates on "Welcome to the Jungle." "My nephew gone. My heart is torn. Sometimes I look to the sky, ask why I was born. My faith in God, every day is hard, every night is worse. That's why I pray so hard."

But he quickly composes himself, as is his nature.

"My dreams is big," he announces at the outset of his next verse, sounding both boastful and beleaguered, a king with a dent in his crown, but with a Throne to perch on nonetheless.

Contact reporter Jason Bracelin at jbracelin@ reviewjournal.com or 702-383-0476.