Anniversaries: Jazzmatazz, Vol. II: The New Reality by Guru
With luminaries like Branford Marsalis, Freddie Hubbard, Ramsey Lewis, and Kenny Garrett on board, Vol. II upped the star-power ante, but did it elevate the music beyond mere novelty?
The first Jazzmatazz was heralded as a pioneering venture that proved rap and jazz could jam together organically. Guru’s vision of enlisting real jazz legends to play over hip-hop beats, rather than just sampling old records, was hugely successful, earning Vol. I received critical acclaim and cemented Guru’s reputation as a trailblazer. On Vol. II: The New Reality, he stayed true to that vision but amplified it, essentially doubling down on the concept. If Vol. I was a short but effective 12-track punch in 40 minutes; its sequel nearly doubled the length to a 74-minute opus with an expanded roster of contributors. Guru recruited some of jazz’s big guns: saxophonist Branford Marsalis (fresh off his own genre-blending Buckshot LeFonque project), trumpeter Freddie Hubbard, pianist Ramsey Lewis, and sax great Kenny Garrett all found their way onto the album. These were artists who had nothing to prove in jazz circles, now vibing in Guru’s hip-hop habitat. Guru had to show that Jazzmatazz was more than a one-off novelty and could actually mature into a sustained dialogue between jazz and rap.
By most accounts, Vol. II succeeded in maintaining the raw excitement of its predecessor. The album’s core formula remained intact, Guru’s cool, monotone flow delivering streetwise verses and Afrocentric reflections, laid over grooves that blended programmed beats with live playing by jazz musicians. The interplay between MC and instrumentalist was still the selling point. Guru understood that “with [his] vocals over the top of live jazz performers (as opposed to the usual samples), interplay is facilitated between the two, and thus a whole new dimension is added to the fusion.” Throughout The New Reality, one can hear moments of genuine musical conversation: a saxophone responding to a rhyme, a trumpet riff coloring the mood after a verse. The presence of masters like Hubbard and Marsalis wasn’t merely window dressing; their horn solos and flourishes feel organically woven into tracks like “Living in This World” and “Nobody Knows,” not tacked on. This live synthesis of jazz and rap is what made the Jazzmatazz concept special in the first place, and it continued to pay dividends on the second volume.
Yet for all its authenticity and polish, the second installment garnered a more mixed critical reception than the first. Some contemporary reviewers felt the sequel didn’t pack quite the same punch. But to cast the sequel as merely a diluted sequel would be unfair without acknowledging the ways it advanced the concept. Many observers have come to appreciate that Guru didn’t just carbon-copy the first album; he expanded its scope in notable ways. In this view, Guru actually took a risk by broadening the palette that he wasn’t content to simply repeat Vol. I’s formula of jazz-meets-hip-hop, but instead pushed the project into adjacent genres and styles. Aside from the jazz titans, Guru brought in figures from across the spectrum: Kool Keith, the eccentric underground MC (still with Ultramagnetic MCs at the time), appears on “Young Ladies” to give the record an avant-rap edge; Big Shug (Guru’s Gang Starr Foundation comrade) drops in on the same track to keep the street bona fides intact.
From the reggae world, dancehall queen Patra and Jamaican singer Ini Kamoze lend their voices—Patra toasting alongside Kool Keith on the lively “Young Ladies,” and Kamoze adding “luster” to the herb-celebrating anthem “Medicine,” where his patois hook brings an authentic Caribbean vibe. He also tapped into the soul/R&B realm. The legendary Chaka Khan is featured on the single “Watch What You Say,” belting a hook (and even a verse) with her unmistakable fire, while Branford Marsalis closes out the track with a smooth sax solo that became a cross-generational summit. Meshell Ndegeocello, the critically acclaimed bassist and neo-soul singer, appears on “For You,” contributing earthy basslines and soulful vocals that deepen the album’s groove. Representing the emergent acid-jazz/funk scene of the ‘90s, British band Jamiroquai helps craft the airy backdrop of “Lost Souls,” with frontman Jay Kay and the band providing atmospheric vocals and instrumentation that complement Guru’s verses to great effect. This broad coalition of talent could easily have splintered the album’s focus—too many chefs in the kitchen, as the saying goes. Guru was walking a fine line by expanding the concept, risking the dilution of the purity of jazz + rap by adding reggae or soul into the mix. But remarkably, Vol. II manages to stay cohesive. Guru’s steady presence as the host and his creative vision act as the glue that holds it together.
The musical interplay on Vol. II also deserves credit for adding fresh dimensions, even if subtler than the first go-round. Guru wasn’t interested in virtuoso jazz solos for their own sake; he wanted them to serve the songs. On “Looking Through Darkness,” for example, a moody trumpet line (courtesy of a True Master-crafted sample collage) and Mica Paris’s soulful chorus amplify Guru’s intensity, showing how live-sounding horns can heighten hip-hop’s emotional register. “Living in This World” finds Guru reflecting on social ills in a kind of hip-hop answer to Marvin Gaye’s “What’s Going On,” bolstered by Sweet Sable’s sweet R&B vocal touches and J. Rodriguez’s gorgeous flute and clarinet filigrees that accent the beat. These moments illustrate genuine dialogue between the rapper and musicians, not simply soloists taking turns, then the rapper resumes, but rather a cooperative vibe running through the tracks. To be sure, The New Reality mostly stays in a comfort zone of mellow, head-nodding tempos; Guru was not aiming for wild avant-garde departures or hard boppin’ jams that might alienate hip-hop listeners. This relative safeness in tone is why some critics at the time longed for more energy. But within its cool, mid-‘90s groove, the album does experiment by fusing genres and letting each guest leave a distinct imprint.
Vol. II thus stands as a worthy sequel, perhaps not as revolutionary as Vol. I, or as famously catchy as Us3’s Blue Note hits, but deeply respectable in its craft. Guru managed to avoid the sophomore slump by building on the foundation: he brought in nearly “all of them,” meaning almost all the voices of Black music he could muster – and mostly made it work. If Vol. I was about proving a concept, Vol. II: The New Reality was about expanding the reality of that concept. Even if it played it safe in sticking to a mellow tone, the album quietly pushed boundaries by inviting a broader cultural conversation within its grooves. The presence of jazz legends did indeed elevate the project beyond novelty; you can hear the genuine respect and chemistry in those sessions, and the inclusion of soul divas, reggae toasters, and eccentric rappers gave it a unique, holistic flavor.