If the short downtime seems surprising (especially with singles from his last LP still blowing up on radio), it's not surprising that Flesh of My Flesh continues along the same course that It's Dark laid out. DMX has mastered the art of thug-life anthems, memorable hooks, and choruses celebrating, however ironically, the dubious street morality espoused by peers like Jay-Z, Noreaga, and Tupac.
However, while Jay-Z can bank off his charm, Noreaga off his insane persona, and Tupac off his martyrdom, DMX's claim to fame is his endless, gruff barking (literally and figuratively) about his dogs, niggaz, and, occasionally, his bitches too. Yes, DMX is crude in his vocab, but most of all in his style. While his gruff voice is instantly recognizable and his simple delivery makes his songs easily memorable, it's a rhyme scheme that seems elementary compared to the advanced slanguistics of Biggie, Jay-Z, and Nas. Whatever creativity DMX might have borne was apparently exhausted in his last album; Flesh of My Flesh doesn't take you anywhere you haven't already been with him. His formula is simple: Life is hard ("No Love 4 Me"), trust nobody except for your close dogs ("Dogs for Life"), and, even then, don't trust them ("We Don't Give a F--k"). And, of course, don't trust them bitches ("It's All Good").
Equally sterile are the album's beats, which are so anemic that almost none warrant a mention. The lone exception is the eerily haunting "Coming From," one of the album's few good cuts, featuring Mary J. Blige over a discordant piano loop. "It's All Good" resurrects the familiar—yet always likable—"Heartbeat" sample, but the song's incorrigible misogyny makes total enjoyment difficult.
Basically, if you're a DMX fan who simply can't wait a reasonable time (say…a year) for another LP, Flesh of My Flesh answers your prayers. For those skeptical of DMX to begin with, Flesh of My Flesh is just another nail in the coffin.
— Oliver Wang (Wall Of Sound)
n one of those confounding enigmas of pop success that's always befuddling high-mucky-muck critics (such as myself), DMX arrived in 1998 a relative unknown and left a star. His early '98 release, It's Dark and Hell Is Hot, catapulted to the No. 1 spot on Billboard, no small feat for a rapper of whom few had heard the previous year. Determined not to let his 15 minutes of fame depart too soon, DMX just dropped another full-length album in what is perhaps one of the quickest turnarounds in rap history, Flesh of My Flesh, Blood of My Blood.