The Two Zeros: The Best Album of 2005 - Be

"Never looking back or too far in front of me. The present is a gift and I just want to be." - Common, Be (intro)

Common's Be may, in fact, be my album of the decade (although that's not decided yet). Clocking in at less than 45 minutes, Common gives us 11 songs (one of which isn't even finished, The Food gaining it's placement because people loved the performance of it so much on The Chappelle Show) with no weak notes. Sure, there's Go which feels a bit incongruous after the driving power and weight of The Corner but it reflects the duality of the world that Common's living in. Let's recognize the realities of our inner cities, of the struggles of our people in America in 2005, but let's also understand this: love exists. We are loving people and the future can be bright if we take care of each other and believe in ourselves.

And while that may be some corny ass shit, let me say this: YES! A million times, yes. The hip hop aesthetic and, by extension, popular black culture had spent so much time dissecting and judging "realness" and, far too often, many of us had been convicted of having too much heart. Common was one of them. His previous album, Electric Circus—which I confess that I too struggle with—had garnered him labels like "soft" and "whipped." Heads thought that a relationship with Erykah Badu had led him astray into some flower power type ish.

Be is a response to those charges. And while it is a return to more accessible soul-tinged production from Kanye West and J Dilla, it's also an admonishment of those who thought he had become, to be blunt, less "n*gga". In the midst of these sensitive love songs and street narratives, Common says on Chi-City, "You can't fake being a soldier."

Right? Because, ultimately, in the Court of The Real, this is what people are saying. Iz you real or iz you fake? And "Realness" had become about staying in the gutter, never looking out, never seeing true joy, only seeing escape and success through the prism of stereotypical hood dreams of sports and entertainment. Of Scarface and John Gotti mafia makeovers. New Jack Hustlers always outside the system saying "Fuck the Man" while extolling the virtues of capitalism and consumerism never realizing that they'd been hoodwinked into thinking the color they should be suspect of is white when, really, at the dawn of the 21st century, we all needed to be worried about the false power of green.

And yet, here's Common, talking about empowerment and self-improvement and being better. About being who we are, whatever that is. About going for our dreams. Getting beyond our constraints, real or imagined. About taking control.

My favorite television show of this decade (and maybe of all time) is The Wire, in part, because it pulls back the curtain on what has become of The American Dream and because it speaks to how many of us felt in Bush's United States—depressed and defeated. Common's The Corner, which I confess to putting on repeat often during 2005, speaks exactly to this reality. But, Be ends with It's Your World, Pts. 1 and 2. Bilal sings the hook on Part 1 while Common's Dad continues his role of giving closing thoughts on his albums in Part 2. I've listened to these eight minutes and thirty-five seconds well over a hundred times, often beginning my days with this mantra of positivity and possibility since this album joined my collection. I also end every personal email with one key quote as my signature—it's placement not changing in at least three years. It conveys what I hope for in my life and in the lives of all those I care for.

Be the author of your own horoscope.

Yes. A million times: yes.