The 25 best Wu-Tang Clan albums

Creative and personal beefs — primarily between RZA and Raekwon — had to be squashed to get the band back together for its first group LP in seven years, and the compromise is evident in the album’s generally familiar sound. Ghostface and Raekwon still have plenty of smoke on their lyrical fastballs, but only “Ron O’Neal” and the Rick Rubin co-produced “Ruckus in B Minor” are truly good to ye olde earhole. But in a genre plagued by a distressingly shallow sense of its own history, it’s a blessing to be at all relevant twenty-one years after breaking onto the scene.

That Wu-Tang’s weakest lyricist got out of the gate with a solo LP before the much more talented Master Killa and Inspectah Deck was awfully surprising, but give credit where it’s due: This is a well-produced (largely by a still-cookin’ RZA) LP that reveals Cappadonna as a more than capable wordsmith. The problem for Cap is that he’d been spitting verses alongside some of the best rappers in the game for his entire career; though most of the standout songs here are group efforts featuring the likes of Ghostface, Raekwon and Method Man, Cap’s standalone tracks are fine. “The Pillage” is at least much better than U-God’s “Golden Arms Redemption," which was released a year later.

A half-decade of insane prolificacy diminished the excitement for this fourth group effort, which finds RZA loosening the reins to allow for solo production from Mathematics, True Master and the mainstream, non-Wu duo Trackmasters. Sadly, ODB is completely absent (as is Cappadonna), and there isn’t anything close to a unified sound, which gives it the overall effect of a randomly selected mix-tape. There’s great stuff here (the title track, “Soul Power” and the hardcore throwback “Radioactive”), but much of it is skippable.

An all-star group of producers, including RZA and The Neptunes, came together to help the briefly un-incarcerated ODB complete his second solo LP. Blessedly devoid of skits (though there is an obligatory cameo from the great-but-then-overexposed Chris Rock), this is a tight 13-song package buoyed by one irresistible single (“Got Your Money”). It’s still the work of an unwell mind (ODB’s friends probably should’ve been pushing him into rehab instead of a recording studio), but he seems to be having the time of his life on what would tragically turn out to be the last collection of new material released in his lifetime.

It took GZA four years to release his hugely anticipated follow-up to “Liquid Swords," and the lightly marketed release of this LP in the summer of 1999 had hip-hop heads dreading disappointment. It’s definitely a comedown from the vertiginous heights of his previous album (how could it not be), but, given the array of producers, it’s a surprisingly cohesive effort. The biggest bummer is the relative absence of RZA; he only produced one track (the guest-cluttered “1112”), and it’s one of the LP’s weakest. “High Price, Small Reward” and “Victim” are the best of show, but there’s not a complete dud in the bunch. It’s far better than its reputation suggests.

All of hip-hop’s 1990s sins crammed into one LP: 10 of the 28 tracks are skits (including an obligatory cameo from the great-but-then-overexposed Chris Rock), leaving you 18 actual songs, of which only seven allow Method Man to go solo. And yet it’s still pretty good! RZA’s four tracks are fine, the Redman team-up “Big Dogs” (produced by Erick Sermon) is a serviceable follow-up to “How High” and “Spazzola” features a couple of great verses from Raekwon and Inspectah Deck. D’Angelo drops by for “Break Ups 2 Make Ups," and that’s never a bad thing. The repetitive title track has not aged well.

RZA had just gotten back on track production-wise with Ghostface Killah’s dazzling “Supreme Clientele” when this third group LP dropped in late 2000, and there was absolutely no creative slippage. There are some guest appearances from Wu-friendly East Coasters Nas, Redman and Busta Rhymes, and an inspired contribution from the great Isaac Hayes, but the standouts are, as ever, Ghostface, Raekwon and (when he deigns to show up) GZA. “Gravel Pit” is an all-time Wu track, while “Conditioner” affords the listener the unique pleasure of ODB (in his only appearance on the LP) and Snoop Dogg trading verses.

It is somewhat of a back-to-Wu-basics LP for Ghostface Killah, which is both welcome and a little disappointing. The production from a varied crew that includes Frank Dukes, Sean C & LV and Pete Rock goes heavy on old-school soul and funk samples; it’s very in-the-pocket stuff for Ghost, and he’s as lyrically inspired as ever — particularly when trading verses with Raekwon. The best track, however, is “In tha Park”, a gritty collaboration with The Roots’ Black Thought. 

The first group effort in six years was well worth the wait. RZA’s decidedly un-Wu-like production irked Ghostface Killah and Raekwon, but this dissatisfaction doesn’t creep into their lyrical contributions one bit. They’re the clear standouts here — along with Method Man, who finally seems interested in rapping again after spending most of the decade hurling his creative energies into acting. It’s likely this dedicated group effort was inspired by the 2004 death of Ol’ Dirty Bastard, who gets a previously recorded appearance on “Weak Spot” and a eulogy with the closing track, “Life Changes”. We miss the Dirt.

The MC Ren of the Wu-Tang Clan, Inspectah Deck has a reputation for shining on other artists’ work while being too insubstantial and uninteresting as a personality to carry his own LPs. Deck called bullshit on that with his long-delayed solo debut, “Uncontrolled Substance”; it’s not as stylistically ambitious or verbally dazzling as Ghostface or GZA’s work, but it’s got that vintage, stripped-down Wu sound that even RZA had abandoned by this point in his career. It’s also a reminder that Deck is a fine producer in his own right. He’s fallen well short of matching this hugely underrated album over the last 20 years, but at least he proved on one occasion that you mustn’t ever disrespect the Deck.

Masta Killa was the last of the core Wu members to release a solo LP, and, as was the case with Inspectah Deck, fans weren’t exactly clamoring for this talented, yet unflashy emcee to break out on his own. “No Said Date” may not be transformative or particularly visionary, but folks pining for a return to the hardcore era of the early- to mid-‘90s were pleasantly surprised to find Killa serving up old-school beats and skillfully straightforward lyrics. Killa generally employs the usual producer suspects (RZA, True Master and Mathematics) and gets colorful lyrical assistance from Raekwon, Ghostface and ODB. 

Ghostface Killah’s follow-up to the magnificent “Fishscale” is a pass-the-mic affair featuring most of the core Wu members as well as notable outsiders like Beanie Siegel and Kid Capri. In sharing the spotlight, it feels like Ghost is informing the listener that he’s not swinging for the fences this time, but as the album wears on, you realize he can’t help himself. “The Big Doe Rehab” has a searching, melancholy quality; Ghost is struggling with the emptiness of success and, at times, his own mortality. Obviously, he’s never shied away from heavy material, but as he’s gotten older, these concerns have become more pronounced in his consistently exquisite lyrics.

GZA’s fourth solo LP is considered a return to form after the (unfair) disappointment of “Beneath the Surface”, but lyrically, his Genius never left him. Invoking the title of his former, untouchable glory might’ve been ill advised (as with his previous album, RZA only produced one track here, “Rough Cuts”, and it’s… fine), but at least he’s more focused on a theme (the Wu legacy) this time out. The highlight arrives early with “Silent," a collaboration with one of his few lyrical equals in the Clan, Ghostface Killah. 

Ghostface Killah bounced back from the letdown of “Bulletproof Wallets” with this mainstream-skewing LP featuring collaborations with non-Wu artists like Missy Elliott, Jacki-O and Jadakiss. Aside from a couple of solid contributions from RZA, this really isn’t much in the way of Wu to be found here, which frees up Ghostface to play to a decidedly less hardcore audience for the first time in his career. A lot of niche ‘90s hip-hop artists were pushing into commercial territory around this time (notably Talib Kweli with “The Beautiful Struggle”), but Ghost pulls it off without feeling compromised (though his verse-spitting buddy Raekwon is sorely missed). Given what was coming next (“Fishscale”), it would appear the change did him more than a little good.

GZA had settled into a substance-over-style groove by this point in his career, which further enshrined his status as a critical favorite but did little to endear him to younger listeners. The Genius comes hard for 50 Cent on the cerebral dis track “Paper Plate” (his most aurally stirring solo collaboration with RZA since “Liquid Swords”), but he’s more reflective than confrontational on most of the tracks. You may never give this album more than a couple of spins (given RZA’s penchant for spare production, an elder statesman hookup with DJ Premiere or Pete Rock would be very much on point), but it’s always a pleasure to get a master MC’s unflinching take on the state of the world.

After solo releases from the collective’s main players (Method Man, GZA, ODB, Raekwon and Ghostface Killah), this second group effort marked the beginning of Wu-Tang Clan’s Phase 2 Given the impressive number of first-rate rhyme slingers involved, this double LP doesn’t suffer from bloat; obviously, you isolate your favorite tracks and place those in your personal heavy rotation (“Reunite," “Triumph," “Cash Still Rules/Scary Hours” and “A Better Tomorrow” are standouts), but the whole nearly-two-hour album holds together much better than most deluxe offerings, regardless of genre. This was the height of Wu-Tang mania. There was plenty of greatness to come (mostly from individual members), but culturally speaking they were never bigger.

The Wu-Tang Clan had become part of the hip-hop establishment by 2000, and while their records were still selling, fans weren’t crashing stores on Tuesdays to snap up each new title. The novelty had worn off. The Wu’s revolutionary sensibility was starting to feel like calcified shtick. Ghostface Killah was having none of that. Fears of another solo sophomore slump were shattered with “Supreme Clientele”, which found Ghost and (mostly) RZA doubling down on the vibrant, up-tempo sound that made “Ironman” the most re-playable of the Wu LPs. The only downside here is the skits: There are only three, but they are punishingly long.

The “Drunken Master II” of Wu-Tang solo albums. Mad genius or just plain mad, there is no disputing that Ol’ Dirty Bastard aka Dirt McGirt aka Osirus aka Big Baby Jesus aka Ol’ Dirty Chinese Restaurant left a lasting mushroom bruise on hip-hop. His first solo LP is a wild ride through an addled mind desperate to convey a multitude of essential truths that may not be of this world/dimension. It’s also insanely filthy. But RZA somehow manages to keep ODB’s overactive creativity in check. If you don’t have the lyrics to “Shimmy Shimmy Ya” permanently branded on your brain, you weren’t sentient in the mid-1990s.

Method Man was an instant hip-hop superstar thanks to his eponymous track on “Enter the Wu-Tang (36 Chambers)”, so it made sense that he’d be the first of the Clan to release a solo LP. Meth isn’t the most sophisticated lyricist in the world, but he’s got charisma and bluster to burn; paired with a just-starting-to-catch-fire-in-the-studio RZA, this album is a mid-‘90s hip-hop conflagration. “Bring the Pain” is a flush uppercut of an East Coast beat that’s still propelling boxers to the ring decades later. “All I Need” was an also-ran track until it was remixed with Mary J. Blige as “I’ll Be There for You/You’re All I Need to Get By." It’s not a classic album, but it is a significant one.

Ghostface Killah’s most accomplished work since his debut, save for a couple of overlong skits, it’s a bona fide hip-hop masterpiece. Given the wheel-spinning state of the Wu-Tang Clan in the mid 2000s, it was generous of Ghostface to bring the crew back for the MF Doom-produced headbanger “9 Milli Bros”; it was also wise of him to hook back up with Raekwon, the Animal to his Hawk, for a couple of standout tracks. From “Shakey Dog” to the psychedelic “Underwater," it carries the charge of constant discovery that made the Wu’s mid-'90s output so thrilling.

It’s not quite “The Godfather Part II”, but “Only Built 4 Cuban Linx… Pt. II” is a more than worthy sequel to one of the greatest hip-hop albums ever recorded. While this LP lacks the element of astonishment that knocked heads sideways 14 years prior, the production from an assortment of legends including RZA, Erick Sermon, Pete Rock and Marley Marl is ecstatically on point, while Chef and Ghostface are as verbally dexterous and inventive as ever. But make no mistake: This is Raekwon’s triumph. He’d been off his game since excluding RZA from his solo efforts in 1999. Ten years later, he reclaimed his place in the pantheon of master emcees. 

Ghostface Killah’s debut solo LP opens with a cocky child’s promise to put “trademarks” around the eyes of a grown gang leader, suggesting the then 26-year-old viewed himself as the plucky underdog of the Clan. True to the kid’s promise, he charges out of his corner with the up-tempo “Iron Maiden” and via RZA’s expert production, peppers the listener with a flurry of disparate, unpredictable sounds like a boxer changing up his style mid-match to keep his opponent off-balance. While Ghostface solidified his rep as one of hip-hop’s great storytellers, RZA completed an unofficial trilogy of classics (including “Cuban Linx…” and “Liquid Swords”) that showcased his rare ability to connect intimately with an artist’s particular aesthetic. RZA would eventually settle into his own groove, but for a period of about five years there wasn’t a producer on the planet blessed with his versatility.

This 1993 hardcore masterpiece hit so hard and fast it was impossible to measure its galvanic impact in real time. Many critics erred on the side of restraint, and wound up eating their words as soon as they were printed. After months of heavy rotation on BET’s “Rap City” and much booming out of car stereos all over the country, singles like “Method Man”, “C.R.E.A.M.” and “Protect Ya Neck” became ingrained in the popular culture. Raekwon’s dynamic opening verse on “C.R.E.A.M.” (“I grew up on the crime side, the New York Times side/Staying alive was no jive”) was an invigorating declaration of place and purpose. The Wu were here, and hip-hop would never be the same.

Raekwon the Chef whipped up a hip-hop masterpiece his first time out, adopting Kool G. Rap’s mafioso sensibility to spin tales of criminality on the meanest streets of New York City. Like the best gangster movies, “Only Built 4 Cuban Linx…” is alternately exhilarating and horrifying; Raekwon and his running partner Ghostface Killah brilliantly contrast the Cristal-swilling, female-entertaining high life with the grim reality of what it takes to attain these ephemeral pleasures. Rae and Ghostface are two of the most gifted wordsmiths to ever hold a mic; they conjure up vivid, hyper-violent imagery that’s less Scorsese and more Abel Ferrara. And then there’s RZA, providing the stark sonic backdrop against which these illicit dreams and blood-splattered nightmares take place. 

It’s likely you remember where you were the first time you heard the aptly self-proclaimed Genius’s second solo LP. Delving deeper into the band’s Eastern mythos than ever before (largely via Robert Houston’s “Lone Wolf and Cub” pastiche, “Shogun Assassin”), GZA and RZA emerged with not only the purest expression of the Wu-Tang aesthetic but one of the most startlingly singular musical achievements of the twentieth century. GZA’s inimitable flow is uninterrupted from the title track to the closer, “I Gotcha Back." There are no sketches, few guests and zero digressions. The “Shogun Assassin” samples are deftly woven into the eerie sonic tapestry. From the title track to the closer, “I Gotcha Back”, it’s a spellbinding 51minutes of hip-hop, and remains the pinnacle of both artists’ careers.