Slim, Not Shady: Asher Roth, 'Asleep in the Bread Aisle'

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WHITE RAPPERS SEEM to fall one of two ways. You can either gain major success in the underground scene but never fully break into the mainstream (Atmosphere, Sage Francis, Aesop Rock, El-P, Cage, Yak Ballz and practically every other rapper on the Definitive Jux label) or become overwhelmingly popular, sell millions of records and compromise your integrity (Eminem, basically).

There are exceptions here and there — elder statesmen the Beastie Boys, for example, are fighting becoming caricatures of themselves while also legitimately working for social causes (such as the Tibetan freedom movement), even if their current creative output will never be as good as "Paul's Boutique" was — but it's not an easy path to walk. Just ask Vanilla Ice.

So it's impressive, then, that Asher Roth's "Asleep in the Bread Aisle" (SRC) is actually not awful, considering that the young rapper's somewhat superficial college-loving shtick drives most of the album.

But the thoroughly non-threatening collection of self-aggrandizing tracks about getting wasted, getting laid and getting high — all with nods to "Mario Kart," hot moms, beer pong and $1 slices of pizza — never gets too repetitive, and thanks to catchy instrumentation, guest spots from the likes of Cee-Lo, Keri Hilson and Chester French and Roth's own happy-go-lucky wordplay, "Asleep in the Bread Aisle," isn't a horrible way to spend 55 minutes. There are no thematic concepts here that haven't already been covered by The Cool Kids, Eminem or Atmosphere, but that doesn't keep "Asleep in the Bread Aisle" from being an infectious, solid freshman effort.

Things start with "Lark On My Go-Kart," a thumping introduction to all things Asher: "Puffing on the best cut bud / Tryna get butt from Ms. Muffett / Me and Teddy Rockspin stirring up a ruckus," he raps, and then goes on to talk about being a "blonde Bob Saget" and "being the best" at sex. It may be a juvenile mix of outlandish braggadicio, but Roth's matter-of-fact delivery and his sneering tone make the tale of weed-and-women amusing, not obnoxious.

And he continues to tread that line between comical and cringe-worthy with other tracks such as "I Love College," the heavily MTV-rotated first single which encourages people to use condoms in one breath but also cheers on keg stands seconds later; the relationship-dissing "Be By Myself," in which Roth proclaims, "Yeah, I like you, but not enough to wife you" and "Jacuzzis and groupies, boobies and booze / And no rules, I'm only 22" (Cee-Lo's chorus provides a nice contrast, helping to change things up); and "She Don't Wanna Man," during which Roth praises the existence of wingmen who can take that special someone's "fat friend." The tracks may not be appealing if you're older than 25, but if you're still in college, Roth's tales could very well be your life.

But Roth (thankfully) branches out in his subject matter throughout the rest of the album, tackling the meaning of life, the current state of hip-hop and what needs to be done to make the world a better place. On "La Di Da," he encourages listeners to keep fighting through any adversity or obstacles: "Life without struggling?/ Yeah, right … There's work to be done / You must grind and shine / If every second is a blessing / Yes, it is precious," and it's a marked, measured and successful departure from his goofier tales about drugs and girls.

Similarly serious is "Sour Patch Kids," where Roth seems to channel indie rappers like Aesop Rock both in his wordy delivery and his distaste for mainstream hip-hop's obsession with opulence. "When you make it rain hundreds, is it just me / Or is that some dumb shit?" Roth asks. It may seem hypocritical for someone who did a buzzed-about freestyle on Lil Wayne's "A Milli" beat to be calling out the guy who "made it rain" all those years ago, but Roth backs up his incredulousness with some obervations about the world around him: "Cause poverty's probably our biggest problem / And it ain't gonna stop with Obama / To save the world, we gotta start from the bottom." Though the echo effect used on Roth's voice grows more grating as the song goes on, it doesn't overshadow the song's welcome change of pace from the rest of the album.

However, the album isn't all perfection; after the fantastic "As I Em" — an autobiographical tale Roth spits distinguishing himself from Eminem and bashing those who compare them simply because of their "same complexion" and "similar voice inflection" — the second half of "Asleep in the Bread Aisle" drags into monotonous mediocrity. "Bad Day" is 3 minutes and 38 seconds of Roth frustratedly ranting about his "jetsetting" ways, and though his complaints about screaming babies on planes and forgetting his iPod are relatable, the song is utterly forgettable, as his delivery seems to lack enthusiasm.

The next track, "His Dream," is a noble story (it follows a man who puts aside his dream of being a writer to provide for his family), but again, Roth's delivery remains flat throughout (in fact, the guest vocals from R&B crooner Miguel are more impressive than Roth's raps) and although the piano-driven instrumentation is pretty, it's not necessarily gripping.

And lastly, while closer "Fallin'" intriguingly describes how Roth transitioned from listening to Earth, Wind and Fire and Bruce Springsteen as a child to becoming a rapper, it's the third slow track in a row, and it's hard to get into Roth's flow as a result.

Overall, however, those missteps don't hurt the entire album too much, and if the track listing had been switched up, "Asleep in the Bread Aisle" could have been absurdly close to perfection for the very specific niche of hip-hop-heads this album will appeal to. And although it's not perfect, the mix of Cool Kids-like all-fun-all-the-time sentimentality and Def Jux-like let's-examine-world-issues talk is effective enough to make Asher Roth's debut a worthy purchase.

» Santa Fe Cafe, 4410 Knox Road, College Park; Fri., April 24., 11 p.m., price TBA; 301-779-1345.

Written by Express contributor Roxana Hadadi

Photo courtesy SRC