While watching The Box recently, my roommate made a brilliant observation-- in music videos, R&B; is in the future and rap is in the ghetto. TLC and R. Kelly twist in monochrome chambers. Destiny's Child, swaddled with strips of teal PVC, vogue and pivot in jerky bursts like Nintendo sprites. Meanwhile, DMX pounces off chain- link fences and dangles foaming pitbulls from abandoned tires, and Tear Da Club Up Thugs bounce in rail yards and public housing. By this definition, the Wu-Tang Clan is the Siamese beast of R&B; and rap. Method Man's barks from a post- apocalyptic throne in "Judgement Day." Inspectah Deck dodges nightvision snipers in crumbled alleys. RZA bursts through brick walls, Kool-Aid style, under a buzzing cloud of robotic bees, and transforms into sexaholic superheroes after a chug of green serum. Essentially, Wu-Tang is the sound of futuristic city streets.

The glut of spin-off releases (does the world really need U-God, Ghostfaced Killa, and Inspectah Deck solo albums?) makes you almost forget that the Wu-Tang Clan shadows other contemporary rappers in talent. Wu Tang's playful vocabulary, chock- a- block with martial arts, cuisine, film, video games, and comic books, makes the monosyllabic barking of DMX and Ja Rule sound like Down's Syndrome stuttering.

Wu-Tang's debut, Enter the 36 Chambers, weaved a dark, stark soundscape of Japanese b-film scores, gothic piano loops, raw snares, and stealth explosions of city din. It was the closest anyone had come to Public Enemy's landmark It Takes a Nation of Millions to Hold Us Back. It slipped blindfolds over urban eyes, then ripped them off, leaving listeners lost in a quiet Japanese garden, under cold rain and full moon, surrounded by the sparkling of stars and kitanas. The only problem is, Wu-Tang feels the need to incessantly point this out to you. The Steven King- ization of Wu-Tang albums has diluted their revolution.

At last count, Wu-Tang has released 24 records... this year. The RZA Hits is the second "Best of Wu" compilation to surface in just the last couple months. The Earth's atmosphere has now been official super- saturated with Wu-Tang albums-- just one more Wu album will trigger the condensation of the atmosphere into a plastic lattice of Wu. On top of all the sub- standard rap albums, there's also a Wu-Tang video game coming out. But if you have to go out and buy one Wu-Tang Clan record, The RZA Hits is it.

The album's title, of course, is an egotistical misnomer. RZA only has one solo song on this collection, the ridiculous, thinly- disguised advert, "Wu Wear: The Garment Renaissance." Just as an aside, I must comment on the utter ridiculousness of this song. For one thing, did Wu-Wear really trigger a "Garment Renaissance?" Grey t-shirts, skull caps, and warm-ups don't seem very Machiavellian. It's one thing to beat your chest and profess that you changed hip-hop, but does RZA honestly believe that the Wu-Tang Clan revolutionized the way we wear clothes? RZA could have just cut to the chase and called the track "25 Dollaz (Buy Our Shirtz)." The chorus proclaims, "Wu-Wear and Fleece Wear/ It's not what you want, baby/ It's what you need, baby." Guest appearance by the Taco Bell chihuahua not included.

RZA's baritone, crescendoing rants also pop up between tracks. He narrates the history of Wu-Tang through his cellphone, making the entire business seem more important than it really is. I mean, all The RZA Hits really amounts to is a great hip-hop mix tape. That's not enough to spark a revolution. It's just another reason for the currency flow from teenage pockets to the leather folds of Wu Tang's Wu Walletz. Sure, it's justifiable, but is it necessary?

-Brent DiCrescenzo