by M.F. DiBellaBrooklyn/Queens rapper O.C. (Omar Credle)'s third release is a far cry from the underground rapper's groundbreaking mid-'90s work. The member of the D.I.T.C. family is an abundantly gifted lyricist with the kind of dynamic persona equaled by very few in the rap game. However, for an artist who delivered a definitively timeless blow against money-grubbing studio thug MC's with his 1994 classic cut "Time's Up" ("those who pose lyrical and really ain't true I feel...their time's limited hard rocks too"), O.C. effects a diametric shift in tone and character on Bon Appetit. While it is hard to fault a long-suffering artist for making a bid at financial freedom, there is something altogether distasteful about this project. O.C. serves up a full course meal of corrupted ideals, thereby tarnishing his credibility as one of hip-hop's pillars of purity. While the occasional D.I.T.C. stamp helps this album from submerging irrevocably in mainstream iced-out production and concepts (Lord Finesse's gurgling beat on "Dr. Know" and a guest appearance from the gifted A.G. on "Weed and Drinks"), O.C. gorges himself on aimless rhymes and tired tales of decadence and arrogance. While O.C.'s robust storylines do pop up on an inspired ode to the late Big L ("Psalm 23") and even bend toward a lesson on the solid "Doin' Dirt," of the album's 13 cuts, only a few hint at the quality of his prior two efforts. Some of the blame rests on the shoulders of O.C.'s in-house producer Buckwild, who seems to be doing his best Jermaine Dupri impression throughout. While all is not lost for O.C., it's safe to say that the goals and mainstream market power of hip-hop have claimed another victim. This repast might just make a few hip-hop heads lose their lunch.