He’s been making records since 1991, even longer if you count his time with the Geto Boys, and rumor has it that Emeritus will be his last (at least under his current moniker). It’s this imperviousness to trends that has kept Scarface alive for so long in a genre known for eating its young. The production seems like almost an afterthought and, aside from the guest appearances, his music is largely timeless, focused less on cutting-edge beats than a strong, intelligent flow. Scarface’s style is impressively workmanlike, free of flash, duly focused on cutting jibes and sly turns of phrase.

In fact, the thing that makes Scarface so continuously viable is a word not often heard in hip-hop: reliability, a consistent quality that Emeritus, his ninth studio album, continues to perpetuate.

Little-to-no attention is paid to defying convention. Despite this label, however, there’s nothing overly complicated about the Houston rapper: He hits all the expected marks, from gritty street narratives that stray inexplicably between amoral and teary-eyed, to big-name guest appearances and endless bluster. Frequently referred to as “your favorite rapper’s favorite rapper,” Scarface has thrived on an inability to fully crack the mainstream, inhabiting the role of the pure technical craftsman accessible only to connoisseurs of the genre.

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