The double album can mean a number of things for an artist. For the Wu-Tang Clan and Michael Jackson, it led to exponential career declines. For Biggie and Tupac, it led to grisly deaths. Jay-Z has chosen his own route: The Blueprint 2: The Gift & The Curse lobbies for a position on top of the commercial hip-hop market. On his mid-to-late 90s Volume trilogy, Jay had steadily lost track of his confident street corner philosophy, but a series of battles led him to re-evaluate his career, resulting in the landmark album of his career: the prequel to this two-disc blowout was an inarguable masterwork of beautiful soul-struck production and serrated bling 'n' sting street rhymes sharp enough to eclipse even the heralded, barbs on 1996's world-memorized classic Reasonable Doubt. There's no deep concept or surrounding purpose behind this record: it's just pure confidence. Jay weaves his way through every imaginable style and flavor with unyielding expertise-- from the natural repetition of "A Dream" to the extreme assonance of "The Bounce" to the classic cocky confidence of "2 Many Hoes"-- driving home clear evidence that his top-tier emcee ranking is deserved, and that few could be as entitled. He's straight showing off on "Hovi Baby": somehow flowing effortlessly over Just Blaze's ridiculous 5/4 future-cop production, Jay's lyrics sound as if they were made on the will of God, with himself as the conduit and his voice as the fluid, talking about "chasin' the hi-hat all over the track" to the point that "the snare is scared of the air in here." Equally thrilling is the varied subject matter Hova touches on. Whether he's engaged in lucid conversation with Biggie ("A Dream"), contemplating the nature of his maturation in regards to relationships ("Excuse Me Miss", "Fuck All Nite"), his ever-present public issues ("I Did It My Way", "Diamond is Forever") or discussing the nature of his upbringing ("Some How Some Way"), even Jay's most exhausted subjects sound invigoratingly fresh. A powerful testament to Shawn Carter's underrated storytelling abilities, "Meet the Parents" unveils a delicate tapestry of modern black archetypes and the flaws with the African-American family structure. He begins with the family that created a thug and slowly shifts into the life that thug creates for himself as a result of his fractured upbringing. It's a tale of death, parental absence and drug dealing that spirals into a face-off between father and son, spun into a metaphor for the intense need for a solid patriarchal bond. As a premier rapper in the commercial spotlight, Carter's got a way of leveling his albums out with a wide variety of beats. Ranging from the Cake-sampling guitar strum of "Guns and Roses" (produced by Heavy D?!!) to the Hugo Williams connection's dark, squirt-bass stomper "Nigga Please" to Kanye West's anthemic chopped EWF sampling firestorm "As One", Jay attempts to please everyone and very nearly succeeds. Although the Tupac-flavored ambient keyboard beats aren't quite as sharp as they could be, and the uncharacteristically pedestrian Timbaland collaborations disappoint, they do offer a solid pace to the album to that virtually all other doubles lack. And pace is one of many places that Blueprint 2.1 fails. Released six months after The Gift and the Curse as a sampling of some of the album's more seemingly intriguing tracks and chart hits, it was a transparent ploy to bank on increased record sales and create the illusion of cost-effectivity, when, in fact, Blueprint 2.1 ran about the same price as the original, and offered roughly half the tracks. It's bad enough that its two bonus tracks aren't even worth talking about, but it omits nearly half the standouts from the original, leaving as many as eight stronger tracks out in lieu of lesser collaborations with dollar-winning names. 2.1 doesn't even include the song "Blueprint 2", effectively contradicting its purpose. So, for the classic bloated double-album prototype, the filler helps more than it hinders, as evidenced by the spectacular failure of the condensed version. Truly, Carter's vision of the streets had to stretch out over two discs, if only to handle the spectrum of influence he's drawn from and continues to create. With his final set, The Black Album, due next month under the tutelage of The Neptunes, Rick Rubin, Timbaland, Kanye, Lil' Jon and seven others, all eyes are on Hov, hoping for-- and rightfully expecting-- a classic last salvo to bookend his perfect debut. The Blueprint 2 may be less than filler-free, but it stands regardless as a testament to Jay-Z's mastery of the written and spoken word: the fortifying teaser to a pay-per-view-worthy finale.