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US President Barack Obama is all over Watch the Throne. Not only as a token Jay-Z shout-out or a target for criticism, but as a muse of sorts (alongside the Basquiats and Warhols, of course). Upon Obama’s historic inauguration in early 2009, many hip-hop fans and journalists anticipated a flurry of celebratory rap releases. Maybe it was the recession, maybe they realized that racism wasn’t going anywhere, or maybe rappers just didn’t care much, but the celebration never really began.

Until now. Watch the Throne rolls out the red carpet, pops the champagne, and throws cash in the air in the midst of a financial crisis. Though perhaps the reason that this album feels so jubilant is that it uses the first African-American President as a mere stepping stone — the first sign of something greater to come for black people and humanity in general.

Kanye and Jay (together they call themselves “The Throne”, a name which will never catch on) immediately get down to business, using the first track, No Church in the Wild to crumble the existing power structure and prepare the listener for the new order to come. They present an anarchic society that has individuals deciding what rules to live by, with Kanye and Jay as ruler/God-like figures.

The hook asks a series of questions, the answer to all of which could be “nothing” or “just another meaningless entity”. In this hierarchy where every element is insignificant to the one above it, the non-believer is at the top — because he is free to set his own rules with being influenced or controlled.

While Kanye (with help from The Dream) uses his verse to attack sexual boundaries and taboos (a continuation of ideas from his recent album My Beautiful Dark Twisted Fantasy), Jay drops perhaps his most philosophically complicated verse ever, presenting a myriad of ideas using the backdrop of the ancient world (notably, a time period referred to as “Before Christ”).

The most important section of the verse has him wondering, “If a thug’s prayers reach” and asking, “Is Pious pious ‘cause God loves pious?” (Is it a coincidence that Jay mentions Socrates in a song filled with questions?) Separately, these are interesting ideas, but together they shed even more light on the albums themes. Turning piety on its head and melding the ideas together, one might ask “Do thugs disobey America’s laws because it hates them, or does America hate thugs because they disobey its laws?”

Unfortunately, “Lift Off” doesn’t quite have the same philosophical weight. It’s meant to lay out their ambitions for the album: that they are ready to take over the hip-hop world and beyond. It’s ultimately unnecessary in the grand scheme of the album.

On the other hand, “Niggas in Paris” is a perfect follow-up. The whole song (and perhaps, album) is perfectly summed up by the silly Will Ferrell sound clip that follows Kanye’s verse. From the title and the beat, to the playful ignorance, unparalleled stunting, and just straight fun lines, all juxtaposed alongside luxury in the Caucasian capital of the world, the provocative image put forth is one of black people somewhere where they previously haven’t been: rich and powerful, bringing their own flavor to the white man’s world instead of conforming to it.

Appropriately, the first single, “Otis”, is where they really get to the pure celebration. With the album’s theme of black success set, Kanye and Jay get excited about it. Some of the most important lines of the album are hidden under this braggadocio blanket though. Jay-Z’s fence/tunnel lines are chock full of meaning; the basics being that immigrants (for instance, African Americans, once upon a time shipped to the US as slaves) are stealing money and power from right under the good old boys’ noses. As Kanye points out at the song’s closing, they can’t and won’t be able to stop it.

When Jay says, “everything’s for sale”, it symbolizes the move from “hood rich” to wealth and power. The realization that money can buy more than cars and jewellery is when real influence can be obtained. Times have changed since “Money Ain’t a Thang” and “All Falls Down”.

On “Gotta Have It”, Kanye leads off with a relic of his last album, namely his reaction to media persecution. Only now, time and his team up with Jay-Z gives him the confidence to laugh those events off and move forward. This is perhaps symbolic of the advice this album subtly gives to the African American community. When Kanye goes on to say “black on blacks on blacks”, it sounds silly, but looks forward to a time when it’s not just the odd black person that sneaks into society’s upper echelon. Jay-Z has a curious verse that has him robbing someone, perhaps the current societal leaders and/or his rap competition.

While the underlying theme of WTT is a celebration of black people rising to power, it also addresses the issues that have (and still do) impede that goal. On “New Day”, Kanye and Jay-Z address the destructive cycle of the fatherless child through their own deeply personal stories. Kanye’s at times subtly sarcastic verse seems to advise the next generation to play ball with white America (or at least pretend to) while retaining their African American individuality. This marks a shift toward racial relations that stand in contrast with angrier, often violent stances of pro-black artists like Dead Prez, 2 Pac, or NWA.

Jay-Z presents the idea that future generations should learn from the mistakes of their elders, while current generations should provide a better starting point than they themselves had.

The lyrics to “That’s My Bitch”, immediately suggest a metaphor, though it’s difficult to say what that metaphor is exactly. Rap fans have been hammered over the head with the “hip-hop as woman” cliché, so it’s easy to go there first. It certainly could apply to Kanye’s verse, and fits in with the most obvious album theme of Kanye and Jay being the kings of the rap game (a theme intentionally avoided in this article to focus on the one at hand).

Jay’s verse, more in line with the “black excellence” theme, seems to express pride for black women. This is somewhat uncomfortable given the offensive nature of the song’s title, and the fact that he only praises them for their beauty. It’s as if he’s saying to white America, “even our women are better than yours”. Elly Jackson’s hook hints at a less harsh interpretation. It’s another celebration, this time focusing on the fact that the struggles of a beaten down culture are coming to an end. In this case, the “bitch” is the whole world, which “The Throne” is claims as their own.

Jay-Z’s lyrics on “Welcome to the Jungle” have been praised and criticized for expressing painful emotions that we don’t often see from the notoriously stoic rapper. It’s either humanizing or ridiculous to hear Jay-Z says that he’s “fucking depressed”. This happens to be irrelevant though, because he makes it fairly clear that he’s not talking about himself. He’s not suddenly going to claim a gang affiliation, and no one in history looks less like they’re going to cry in public than Jay-Z.

While he does add some of his own personal pain in the first verse, the jungle we’re being welcomed to is ghetto America (“the concrete jungle”), and the pain being expressed is that of it’s residents. Jay suggests that black excellence may have been achieved earlier if not for the blows struck to the community with the deaths of important heroes. Biggie and Pac’s murders allude to the East Coast/West Coast war that set the cause back years, while MJ’s portrayal in the media certainly wasn’t healthy for black self-image.

He runs through many of the plagues that prevent poor blacks from succeeding: drugs, gangs, mental issues, and perhaps even an ineffectual black President. The album thus far might almost have us thinking that the times have already changed. “Welcome to the Jungle” brings us back to reality.

When Kanye claims, “I wrote the verse that I hope will hurt you”, he is talking directly to his rap competitors, but also to the system that is trying to hold the black community down. “Who Gon’ Stop Me” expands on an idea presented earlier, that the rise of black Americans is inevitable. It’s nice to see Jay-Z talk positively about “book smarts” along with the street smarts he usually praises. The line serves as a representation of a move towards legitimate power and success.

The darker tone of the previous few songs culminates in the thematic centerpiece of the album, the aptly titled “Murder to Excellence”. While the topic of black-on-black crime is well tread in hip-hop, the twist of this song is that half way in, the topic switches to the positive black excellence through-line of the entire album. The beat change signifies the transition from “murder” to “excellence”. They seem to be telling the community: “get your shit together, stop getting in each other’s way, and help get us (black people) to “the throne””

That tough love message is followed by a more inspirational one. On “Made it in America”, Kanye and Jay send a message: “this is how we did it, now it’s your turn”. While they had to do it any way they could, the rappers hope that the next generation has an easier time because of the groundwork laid for them.

Strangely, the album ends on a bitter-sweet note. They’ve spent almost its entire running time encouraging their brothers to claim the success and power that is their due. On “Why I Love You”, they predict that this probably won’t happen; that the black community will continue to cannibalize their race with hatred.

Jay worries that he’s failed in his mission as a black leader to promote the success of his community, which perhaps ties things back to Obama and his powerlessness or inability to affect real change. Or maybe the song is simply meant as a thinly veiled shot at former friends turned enemies, an unfortunately petty way to end things.

Is this a passive-aggressive way of encouraging people to change their ways, or is it a remnant of the black self-esteem issues they’ve been trying to forget?

A better ending would have been “Illest Motherfucker Alive”, a track inexplicably relegated to the bonus section. While the exclusion of the other tracks makes sense thematically, IMFA contains lines that have Jay and Kanye taking over the music industry from white artists, and an ending that would be a nice cap to the album and Jay’s career.

It also provides us with the hilarious (awkward?) clip at the 6:19 mark of this video

Watch The Throne has been criticized for its braggadocio and stunting during a recession, for being a decadent record about wealth and opulence by two guys that are experiencing astronomical success while everybody else struggles to get by. While this view has its merits, hopefully in time the album will be seen by what it really is: perhaps the most constructive black-power rap album ever made. It’s more accessible and less preachy than a KRS-One or a Public Enemy album (no wonder Chuck wasn’t feeling it). It doesn’t have the anger and violence of a Malcolm inspired view, while also staying away from a cooperative, Martin influenced one. It turns anger into competitiveness, which feels much healthier. More than a small minded and cliché “kings of rap” album, “the throne” represents the kingdom of the world. More than a polite request, “watch the throne” is a threat: “watch out, we’re coming to take your spot”.