You’ve Got Mail? No.
Sleepless in Seattle? No, (Well maybe. And probably You’ve Got Mail too.)
Ladies and gentlemen, I present Tom Hanks’ son… Chet Haze a.k.a Chester Hanks.
Long story short, “West Side L.A.” is like a non-thinking man’s version of Jay-Z’s “Empire State of Mind.” Picture Joaquin Phoenix in I’m Still Here… only rapping on-beat mixed with a Wal-mart version of Asher Roth. (No disrespect to Asher Roth who is actually a credible rapper despite being mislabeled a frat rapper.) It seems Chet is trying to cash in on Roth’s crossover appeal in spite of not making a complete mockery of hip-hop culture… except without the mockery part.
I began thinking I’d rather Tom Hanks write a rap album based on the personas of his various characters over the years. Think about it. You could have a transvestite rapper dropping rhymes about living in an all-women’s hotel like on Bosom Buddies. You could have a cop rapping about his partner, a drooling dog (Turner and Hooch). It could be like Rick Ross meets DMX. Perhaps he could channel Jim Lovell from Apollo 13 and do some space rap. (Houston, we have a motherfuckin’ problem!)
Then I remembered this.
Oh, I see where Chet gets his rhyme skills.
On second thought, maybe I don’t need an album of Tom Hanks rapping.