“Haters say Dre fell off / How? Nigga, my last album was The Chronic,” he scoffs on the same song.
DR DRE CHRONIC 2001 CREDITS PROFESSIONAL
It’s not a lie, but it’s certainly not the truth Dre’s version of the period of time between leaving Death Row Records in 19’s triumph in 1999 excludes a series of excruciating personal and professional setbacks that tell a more complex story of who Andre Young really is. “Since the last time you heard from me I lost some friends / Well, hell, me and Snoop, we dippin’ again / Kept my ear to the streets, signed Eminem,” he raps. It’s cinematic and immersive, which is exactly what Dre intended: Coming off of three years in the wilderness, Dre needed more than a new sound. Twenty years later, even though the myth of 2001 has worn off, the song is still transportive. Dre’s 2001, is an antihero’s theme, the music Denzel Washington’s bad cop Alonzo Harris flips on before his panoramic tour of L.A.’s underbelly in Training Day. “Still D.R.E.,” the first single from Dr.
You know the ones: that murderous mob-movie piano, clinking as it’s methodically built out by a lone cello and mournful violins, then by electric bass and drums so crisp they sound pulled from the soul of the Korg Triton machine they were produced on. I still can’t shake the goosebumps I get when I hear those keys.