I want my 69:33 back.

Remember when The Fugees reigned over the music industry? Then Lauryn Hill went the spiritual and boring route, Pras wasn't heard from since "Ghetto Superstar," and now, with his new album, Masquerade, Wyclef Jean wins the award for "Biggest Downfall by a Former Fugee."

Whereas The Carnival combined so many different genres while under the banner of hip-hop and maintained its titular atmosphere, Masquerade leans more toward minimalist beats that rely heavily on piano and strings (think RZA's beats on Wu Tang's debut album). This dark vibe is the link to almost every song, as Wyclef constantly threatens all "fake thugs" (while) maintaining his own thug demeanor throughout. Regardless of whether he is serious or tongue-in-cheek, it fails, even when, (or because) he lowers his voice and puts on a gruffer, DMX-esque tone. His flow on the title track sounds especially contrived when up against the raw vocal brutality of guest rappers M.O.P. and Bumpy Knuckles.

Lyrically, Clef mainly deals with growing up in the projects and the dangers of becoming a "thugs" two topics rarely explored on his first two albums. However, there is nothing particularly original about his message that we haven't heard countless times before. The Marley-esque "War No More," conveys his thoughts on living in a post 9/11 environment. However, it comes off as a humorless Adam Sandler song, with lines like "This looks like a scene from the movie Star Wars."

Masquerade is certainly his most serious work to date, yet the "party" songs (read: cheesy samples) cross the line between ironic and intolerable. Need something fun to do when you're bored? Try to think of worse samples than "December 1963 (Oh What a Night)" ("Oh What a Night") and "What's New, Pussycat?" ("Pussycat"). Add to this a ho-hum version of "Knockin' on Heaven's Door" that has Bob Dylan rolling over in his grave and you have all the ingredients of a bad album. With the party songs socially acceptable only at my cousin Shlomo's Bar Mitzvah and the serious stay-straight-don't-be-a-thugsongs sounding preachy and mundane, you should be embarrassed for owning this album.

Jason Newman