Slick Rick’s Victory: The Ruler’s Lap Around the Legacy
art by @Cavwins
At 60, Slick Rick returns with an album that dares to age gracefully — and might just be a misunderstood classic in the making.
By Brooklyn Zee | Cavwins.com
“We’ve never heard hip-hop from the elder’s perspective — the grandfather, the survivor, the master storyteller who lived to tell it.”
Let’s talk about this new Slick Rick album real quick.
The conversation around its release is far more polarized than anyone expected. Victory, released June 13, 2025, via Mass Appeal Records, arrived to mixed reviews. Many major outlets labeled it “mid,” calling it “birthed out of boredom” and lacking “poetic reflections on Black identity and culture.”
Fans, too, seemed divided. The initial excitement around a new Slick Rick album — boosted by Mass Appeal’s wave of releases from other hip-hop legends this year — quickly gave way to confusion. Some heard Victory as a fresh, daring work of art. Others weren’t sure how to receive it, or where to place it in The Ruler’s story.
But here’s my take: Victory is a future classic.
When you’re the first to do something, you’re often misunderstood. A classic doesn’t have to be perfect; it has to resonate in the moment and age into its brilliance. Victory may have rough edges, but it carries every hallmark of a timeless record.
Let’s start with this: MC Ricky D is sixty years old. That alone breaks new ground. We’ve never really heard hip-hop from the perspective of the elder — the grandfather, the retired businessman, the master storyteller who survived it all. If Sinatra and Dylan could take their final laps with dignity, why not Slick Rick? Victory might not be flawless, but if this is The Ruler’s farewell, it’s a damn fine one.
A major point of emphasis for The Ruler on this album is his British and Caribbean background. He’s no longer telling the gritty New York stories listeners have come to expect. The opening scene of the album’s accompanying mini-film shows a group of London teens stunned by his oversized jewelry — a symbolic reintroduction to a younger UK audience.
The album moves through house and club records, reggae-inspired tracks, breakbeats, and even poetry. There’s also an attempt at singing that, admittedly, I skipped past. When Rick does return to New York subject matter, as on “Landlord,” he speaks from the perspective of a property owner navigating tenants and neighborhood tensions.
If we view hip-hop as a platform for conversation and the exchange of ideas within our culture, we have to acknowledge how important a voice like Slick Rick’s still is.
To be fair, I understand why some fans and critics may take issue with the album’s sonic landscape. At times, it feels like an attempt to fit every lingering creative impulse into one final project. Still, I think many listeners simply missed what Rick was aiming for and may not fully appreciate this rare moment in hip-hop history until years from now.
Even at the end of his career, he remains a pioneer.
Long live The Ruler.
Brooklyn Zee is an emcee & songwriter