When Ma$e first entered the spotlight as Puff Daddy's perpetually smiling, shiny-suited sidekick, few could have predicted what an enigmatic figure he'd become in only a few years. But fame can do strange things to a man, and the seemingly unremarkable heir apparent to the Bad Boy empire has proven himself a bona fide rap eccentric, first taking his Harlem World project to Jermaine Dupri's So So Def label and then retiring at 22 to dedicate his life to Christ. Of course, it remains to be seen just how long Ma$e's retirement will last, but judging from what could theoretically be his last album, he is indeed tired of life in the spotlight, surrounded by back-stabbers, and searching desperately for something real to believe in. Of course, anguished soul-searching has always had a place in rap, but Double Up also reveals a confused Ma$e who can't decide whether he's a troubled superstar disillusioned with his lot in life, an angry young hustler forced unwillingly into gaudy suits and expensive videos, or a still-grinning, party-happy playboy content to revel in the shallow excesses of the lush life. Unfortunately, while Double Up is an interesting album, it isn't necessarily a good one. With its curiously joyless party jams, angry songs about parasitic groupies and hangers-on, and moments foreshadowing Ma$e's embrace of Christianity, Double Up is one seriously confused record, one that radically shifts gears not only from track to track, but often within the course of a single song. This is the case with one of its best moments, "From Scratch," on which Ma$e vacillates between wishing he had followed a Christian path from the beginning and articulating a more sinister desire not to have sired a child by a woman he didn't particularly care for. (Perhaps the dollar sign in Ma$e's name could stand for the psychiatric bills said child will accrue later in life.) Unfortunately, on most of the album's angry tracks, he just seems cranky, and on the most party-happy material, he simply sounds like he's going through the motions. A few effective songs are scattered throughout Double Up, including the effectively spunky BLACKstreet collaboration "Get Ready," but for the most part, it's an arbitrary collection that makes Ma$e's retirement seem strangely appropriate.