The general consensus seems to be that RZA has lost his fucking mind. Rap critics, bloggers, and comment-box choirs haven't taken to his strange new mutation-- and that would be a problem even without fellow Clan members Raekwon and Ghostface lashing out at him. Rae complained in an interview with Miss Info that the production on 8 Diagrams "is not the vibe I want," saying RZA was turning into some sort of "hip-hop hippie." Ghost has been down on RZA, too, quoted in The Village Voice as saying the producer's "fumbling the ball...his music wasn't sounding like how it was when we first came in."

And then there's the small matter of Ghostface's decision to release his latest solo album, The Big Doe Rehab, on the same day as 8 Diagrams. The Wu agreed to push their album back a week, but that hasn't stopped fans and critics from pitting the two records against each other in a polarizing boom-bap vs. psychedelia showdown. It gives you a clearer idea of why Wu-Tang hasn't released a record in six years: When a couple of MCs have worked together under the same creative catalyst this long, it's hard to get them all to move in the same new direction at the same pace-- let alone nine of them.

Or eight. The death of Ol' Dirty Bastard signified the end of the classic Wu-Tang Clan lineup, even without the internal strife that almost assuredly guarantees we won't be seeing a follow-up to 8 Diagrams anytime soon. Russell Jones' passing isn't the only reason so much of this record sounds the way it does, but it had to have started some kind of domino effect that compounded all of RZA's brooding, spaced-out, and detached tendencies. Nothing here will go down well in the clubs or on the radio. Even the bangers sound melancholy or apprehensive, evoking darting eyes more than bobbing heads. After waiting so long, it's understandable that fans wouldn't want a record like this, where the bleak moments outweigh the triumphant ones.

Of course, in due time-- maybe it'll take years-- 8 Diagrams will sink in as a compelling, well-regarded album. And if this really is the end, it'll be the ideal last chapter and a smart bookend to Enter the Wu-Tang (36 Chambers). The production moves that stick out like nails on a chalkboard to rap traditionalists-- the acid-funk guitars, the melodic r&b hooks, the live instrumentation-- aren't nearly as off the hinges as some of rap's weirder recent detours (this isn't the Wu's The Love Below). Instead, they push the boundaries of what RZA's traditionally done without breaking too far out of character.

"Take It Back" finds RZA revisiting previous work, snatching the same hunk of Bob James' "Nautilus" he once turned into Ghostface's "Daytona 500", but reduces it to a measured, weaving series of sharp jabs. "Rushing Elephants" and "Wolves" refine his cleaned up soundtrack-influenced style (circa The W), drawing from Morricone-esque touches (heist-film suspense horns, eerie Western whistles, ghostly choirs) and putting some workmanlike but effective breaks beneath to keep the pulse heavy. And the way he assembles tracks still impresses, whether piling on thin sample layers (a guitar from Nancy Sinatra's "Bang Bang"; the drum machine taps from There's a Riot Goin' On) in "Windmill" until they sound fully fleshed-out, or pulling out surprise changes mid-way through a track: "Campfire" cuts under the last couple of lines in Ghostface's verse for a brief dub-echo interlude, and the otherwise understated symphonic soul of "Gun Will Go" shifts during Masta Killa's verse to something that sounds like the horn riff to Baby Huey's "Listen to Me" played through an old-timey Victrola at 3/4 speed.

The more experimental tracks show how comfortable RZA's become with bucking conventional wisdom. Prototypical message statement "Unpredictable" piles switchblade strings onto muffled wah-wahs and screaming guitars that sound like Maggot Brain-era Funkadelic scoring a blaxploitation Psycho. (The hook: "Wu-Tang is unpredictable." No shit!) "Stick Me for My Riches" has some crossover appeal-- skittering digital hi-hats, bombastic horns, r&b vocals-- but give RZA credit for the risky move of bypassing radio-friendly Akon/T-Pain/Ne-Yo-level candidates in favor of a 1970s vet, the Manhattans' Gerald Alston. Even 8 Diagrams' most contentious track, the Beatles-interpolating "The Heart Gently Weeps", has precedent, since the Jimmy Ponder soul-jazz cover that acts as its foundation was rhymed over by Ghostface on the circa-Pretty Toney white-label track "My Guitar". (Granted, it didn't have John Frusciante noodling over it or Erykah Badu sounding like a 12-year-old on the chorus.) The only time this mad-scientist auteurism comes close to backfiring is the RZA solo showcase "Sunlight": Even with the intrusive, beat-derailing martial arts fight scene coda and one of Bobby Digital's more impenetrable metaphors ("I've been highly misunderstood by those who've met us/ They had ears of corn and heads of lettuce"), it's a thoughtful meditation that aims to justify Islam as a source of theological insight at a time when America is least receptive to it.

So how do the other MCs ride beats like this? Ghostface makes himself scarce in the record's first half, and disappears completely in the second. He pulls off a few good verses, though, spitting Supreme Clientele­-level rapidfire free-association ("This is real talk, shank lullabyes/ Ben Franks, we like Jet Blue, we stay hella high") on "Take It Back", and narrating a chaotic grocery store ambush/gunfight/struggle scenario on "The Heart Gently Weeps". Meanwhile, his partner in disaffection Raekwon shows up on half the cuts, and despite his accusations, there aren't any moments where RZA's production undercuts his style; in fact, pretty much every line he's got-- from the uptempo swagger anthems like "Rushing Elephants" and "Take It Back" to the slowly-paced murder story in "The Heart Gently Weeps"-- is hot to the point where fans could start hoping Cuban Linx II measures up.

Method Man opens the album with a sorta-enh verse on "Campfire" (dude doesn't sound quite right making "SexyBack" references) and then spends the rest of 8 Diagrams recapturing the fire he had on Tical, reasserting himself as the Wu's top shit-talker and sounding cockier and more confident than he has in years. GZA doesn't really kick in much for the record's first half, aside from his sharp and briefly ironic verse ("We criticize producers 'til they joints are right") on "Rushing Elephants", but he's all over the last five tracks, popping up briefly to spit at least four lines' worth of jewels and, more frequently, a full verse that's front-to-back intricate like his chess metaphors on "Weak Spot". Inspectah Deck returns to his usual role as the out-of-nowhere scene-stealer (yet another reason "Take It Back" will be a future classic: "Son, I've seen Hell, fell into the palms of Satan arms/ Don that I am, made 'im bow in the face of God"). Even U-God and Masta Killa, frequently overlooked as lyricists, sound inspired (check "Wolves" as Exhibit A).

Still, there's not much real unity on this album-- which makes the album-closing ODB tribute "Life Changes" that much more affecting. While Ghostface is inexplicably missing, the other seven surviving members each get the chance to give their own brief eulogy for Russell Jones: Meth pours out some vodka before finishing off the bottle himself, Raekwon waxes reflective, Deck blames himself for not stepping in to help Jones with his troubles, GZA, Masta Killa, and U-God describe their grief, and RZA refers back to his verse on "Tearz" ("it's always the good ones that have to die") before reminiscing over ODB's Grammy-crashing and fights with the law. Given how many times this album was pushed back, it wouldn't be out of the question to suspect some quality control issues, but RZA himself said in The Wu-Tang Manual that he tended to gear the overall style of an album based on what time of year it dropped, and 8 Diagrams couldn't have debuted at any time other than winter-- perpetually overcast, dark before the afternoon ends, and freezing your eye water.