The scorecard
7.9/10 · Great
- Writing25%
- 8.5
- Production25%
- 8.0
- Delivery15%
- 7.5
- Cohesion15%
- 7.0
- Originality10%
- 8.0
- Replay value10%
- 7.5
Tracks like "I Used to Love H.E.R." and "Chapter 13" show vivid allegory and narrative craft, though some tracks indulge in cipher-style wordplay without clear purpose
No I.D.'s loops are warm and austere, built for the voice, but several beats recycle similar tempos and the interludes break momentum
Common's flow is confident and conversational with sharp internal rhymes, though the cadence rarely shifts and some punchlines land flat
The East Side/West Side concept frames the album geographically and the first stretch maintains strong momentum, though the back half includes some tracks that feel like leftovers and interludes that disrupt flow.
The H.E.R. allegory was novel in 1994 and the South Side specificity distinguished Common from both coasts, though the jazz-rap template was well-worn
The best tracks remain sharp thirty years later but the back half sags with filler and the interludes wear thin on repeat
Common Resurrection — The Album That Chose Conscience Over the Block
Resurrection is the sound of a Chicago rapper deciding what kind of artist he wants to be. Common Sense had released Can I Borrow A Dollar in 1992 with rougher edges and a track like "Heidi Hoe" that treated women as punchlines. Two years later he returned with an album that opens with the line about being born again and closes with his father reciting poetry. The choice was deliberate.
Where East Coast rap in 1994 was perfecting the mafioso pose and West Coast gangsta rap was dominating commercially, Common staked out different ground: the South Side as a place of reflection rather than warfare, rap as a vehicle for ideas rather than just flexing. The thesis of Resurrection is that hip-hop was worth saving from its own worst instincts, and Common was willing to risk irrelevance to say so.
That argument arrives fully formed on "I Used to Love H.E.R.", the second track, where hip-hop becomes a woman seduced by materialism and gangsta posturing. The allegory was transparent enough to start a coastal beef with Ice Cube but clever enough to earn Common critical respect he had not previously commanded. The rest of the album tries to live up to that moment with mixed results.
The album is structurally divided into East Side and West Side of Stony Island Avenue, the street that splits the South Side, but the concept does more work on paper than in the sequencing. What holds is the sincerity. Common wanted to prove that a rapper could mature without going pop or gangsta, and Resurrection is the first time that argument sounded like more than a theory.
No I.D. Builds a South Side Soundstage for One Voice
The production on Resurrection is almost entirely the work of No I.D., who had also helmed Can I Borrow A Dollar, and his approach here is patient and unfussy. He builds loops from jazz and soul samples that stay out of the way: warm bass, muted horns, minimal drums. Tracks like "Resurrection" and "I Used to Love H.E.R." let the loops breathe so the rapping can fill the space. The sound is closer to Pete Rock's work with CL Smooth than to the Bomb Squad or DJ Premier, prioritizing mood over attack. It works when Common has something to say. It exposes him when he does not.
The writing is where the album justifies its reputation. "I Used to Love H.E.R." remains the obvious standout, not because the allegory is subtle but because it is executed with specificity: hip-hop as a woman who "wasn't up on the new thang" before the West Coast "filled her head with lies." The song is preachy but it earned the right to preach by making the metaphor work across three full verses. "Chapter 13" is nearly as sharp, framing economic disparity as a conversation between a rich man and a poor man with neither side winning the argument. "Book of Life" finds Common rapping about mortality and spirituality without the platitudes that usually accompany those topics. The problem is that the album also includes tracks like "Communism" and "Orange Pineapple Juice" where the wordplay is the only point. Common can clearly rap, his internals are crisp and his vocabulary is broader than most, but several songs here feel like freestyles that mistook complexity for purpose.
The delivery is steady throughout but not dynamic. Common raps in a conversational register that makes even his denser lines feel accessible, and his voice has the warmth that would later make him a natural for Soulquake productions. What he does not do is vary the flow much. The cadence is mid-tempo and even across most of the album, which matches No I.D.'s production but makes the back half feel longer than it is. The interludes scattered throughout, little sketches of South Side life, are meant to build atmosphere but they break momentum instead. By the time "Pop's Rap" arrives at the end, the album has earned the grace note, but it has also run out of gas.
The Album Peaks Early and Struggles to Justify Its Length
Resurrection front-loads its best material. The title track sets the tone, the second track delivers the thesis, and the first stretch keeps the energy high. The sequencing logic behind the East Side/West Side split is not audible. The division happens at a mid-album interlude, and the West Side is supposed to represent a different part of the neighborhood, but the tracks on either side of the divide do not sound or feel distinct. What changes is the quality.
The back half sags with tracks that add minutes without adding much else. The album is fifty-three minutes long with fifteen tracks, and it feels longer because several songs are there to fill space rather than to advance an idea. The interludes, which are supposed to tie the album to the South Side, mostly just interrupt the flow. The pacing works when the songs are strong enough to carry it.
When they are not, the album drags. The best version of Resurrection would have cut three or four tracks and tightened the runtime to forty minutes. As it is, the album asks for patience it does not always reward.
A Pivotal Album That Announced a Voice but Not Yet a Classic
Resurrection is the second-best album in Common's catalog behind Be, and the gap is wide. Be had Kanye West and J Dilla at their peaks and Common writing with the confidence of someone who had already proven himself. Resurrection has the hunger but not yet the craft to sustain a full album. It is the record where Common found his subject matter, the conscious lane that would define his career, but he had not yet learned how to edit himself.
The peaks here are high enough to justify the reputation. Too much of the album is competent but unambitious, rapper's workshop material that survived because the tracklist needed fifteen songs.
This album is for listeners interested in the development of conscious rap as a lane, for fans who want to hear where Common started before he became the polished version on Be and Finding Forever, and for anyone who wants to understand the mid-nineties moment when a Chicago rapper could build a career by rejecting both coasts. It is not for casual listeners or anyone looking for a front-to-back classic. Start with the opening two tracks. If those tracks work, move to the first stretch. From there, go straight to Be to hear what Common sounded like when the writing and production both matured. Resurrection is a strong sophomore album and a important document of its moment, but it is not the album Common needed to make to become essential.
Track by track
Track Listing
Resurrection
StandoutThe title track opens with Common rapping about rebirth and leaving behind the missteps of his debut. The production is spare, just a loop and drums, and the writing is direct about what the album intends to do. It works as both a statement of purpose and a strong song, with Common's flow locked into the pocket and his voice clear about the stakes. The hook is simple but effective. This is the best kind of album opener, one that establishes the tone without overselling it.
I Used to Love H.E.R.
StandoutThe centerpiece and the reason the album matters. Common personifies hip-hop as a woman he loved when she was pure, before she got seduced by materialism and gangsta posturing. The allegory is obvious but it works because the details are specific: she used to not be about the new thing, then she moved to the West Coast and started acting funny. The writing is sharp across all three verses and the production gives it room. The song started a beef with Ice Cube, who took the West Coast criticism personally, but it also brought Common to the attention of critics who had ignored his debut. It remains one of the best rap songs of the nineties and the track that defined conscious rap as a viable counter to gangsta dominance.
Watermelon
StandoutA song built around the racist stereotype, flipping it into a meditation on identity and pride. Common raps about reclaiming symbols that were used to demean Black people, and the production is lighter and jazzier than the tracks before it. The writing is clever without being preachy, and the concept gives the track a clear purpose. It is one of the stronger songs on the album, and it shows Common working through ideas rather than just showing off technique.
Book of Life
StandoutA reflection on mortality and spirituality that avoids the usual platitudes. Common raps about the choices that define a life and the consequences that follow, framed as entries in a book that is being written in real time. The production is understated, letting the lyrics carry the weight, and the writing is specific enough to make the abstraction land. The hook is weak but the verses are strong. This is the kind of track that justifies the album's reputation as thoughtful rather than just technically proficient.
In My Own World (Check the Method)
SolidA showcase track where Common raps about his skills and his approach to the craft. The writing is dense with internals and the flow is confident, but the song does not have much to say beyond the fact that Common can rap. The production is solid, a mid-tempo loop that stays out of the way, but the track feels like a leftover from the first album. It is competent but not necessary, the kind of song that fills space on a too-long tracklist.
Another Wasted Nite With…
WeakAn attempt at a narrative about a night out that goes nowhere. The storytelling is not sharp enough to make the details interesting, and the production is forgettable. The track feels like a sketch that did not get finished. It is one of the weaker songs on the album and a sign that Common was still learning how to sustain a concept across a full song. Filler.
Nuthin’ to Do
WeakA mid-tempo track about boredom and frustration that does not do much with the premise. The writing is adequate but not inspired, and the production is pleasant but unmemorable. The song is competent but it does not add anything to the album. It is the kind of track that sounds fine in the moment and disappears immediately after. More filler.
Communism
SolidA posse cut where Common and his crew trade verses over a stripped-down beat. The writing is all wordplay and cipher energy, no clear purpose beyond showing that everyone can rap. The verses are solid but the track feels like a leftover from a different album. It is the kind of song that belongs on a mixtape, not on an album trying to make a statement. Filler.
WMOE
SolidA short interlude that mimics a radio station. It is meant to mark the transition from the East Side to the West Side of Stony, but it just breaks momentum. Skippable.
Thisisme
StandoutA self-assessment track where Common raps about his growth since the first album. The writing is introspective and specific, with lines about leaving behind the cruder material from Can I Borrow A Dollar and committing to a more thoughtful approach. The production is warm and the flow is steady. The track is not as sharp as "Resurrection" but it serves the same purpose, making the case for Common as an artist who is maturing in real time. It is solid and it earned its place as the title of his greatest hits compilation years later.
Orange Pineapple Juice
SolidA playful track built around a juice metaphor that does not go anywhere. The writing is all punchlines and wordplay, no real substance, and the production is bright and jazzy but forgettable. The song is fine as a palate cleanser but it does not justify its three-minute runtime. It is the kind of track that sounds clever on first listen and wears thin on repeat. Filler.
Chapter 13 (Rich Man vs. Poor Man)
StandoutA dialogue between a rich man and a poor man, each making the case for why their life is harder. The writing is sharp and the concept is executed well, with Common voicing both sides and letting the tension sit without resolving it. The production is minimal, just enough to support the verses, and the track works as both a narrative and a social critique. It is one of the best songs on the album and a strong example of Common using allegory to make a point without preaching. The track shows real ambition and the writing backs it up.
Maintaining
SolidA mid-tempo track about keeping your head above water in difficult circumstances. The writing is competent but not memorable, and the production is pleasant but does not stand out. The song is fine but it does not add much to the album. It feels like a track that was included to hit a certain runtime rather than because it had something essential to say. Filler.
Sum Shit I Wrote
SolidA freestyle-style track where Common raps over a Ynot beat that is harder and more East Coast than anything No I.D. provided. The writing is all technique, no clear purpose, and the song feels like a leftover from a different project. It is competent but unnecessary, the kind of track that belongs on a B-side or a mixtape. Filler.
Pop’s Rap
StandoutCommon's father Lonnie Lynn Sr. closes the album with a spoken-word piece about legacy and pride. It is the first time Common used his father this way, a gesture that would become a signature across his later albums. The piece is warm and sincere, and it works as a grace note after the album has run out of steam. It does not redeem the weak tracks that came before it, but it ends the album on a human note rather than just fading out.
