Death Row Records is now a National Lampoon-like shell of its former self, but in the early- to mid-'90s, the label practically reinvented rap music with such vastly influential albums as The Chronic, Doggystyle, and All Eyez On Me. Suge Knight's Chronic 2000 might seem at first to be a cheap, exploitative attempt to rain on the commercially reinvigorated Dr. Dre's parade, raid the Death Row vaults to exploit every last track on which 2Pac, Daz Dillinger, or Kurupt ever appeared, and introduce a slew of unpromising new rappers, at least one of whom happens to have the same last name as frequently incarcerated Death Row kingpin Knight. And while Chronic 2000 is certainly all of those things, it's also a post-mortem for the Death Row era: final, conclusive proof that the rap world has moved on and left the label in its wake. In case you needed convincing, one listen to the works of such new artists as Milkbone, The Realest, and Swoop G should persuade just about anyone that Death Row is little more than a sad relic that's in furious denial of its own mortality. A long, fairly torturous swap meet of an album, the two-disc, 28-song Chronic 2000 relies heavily on scraps from the vault—most notably two unreleased, perfectly presentable 2Pac songs, one produced by hired gun DJ Quik, the other by Johnny "J"—a respectable roster of guest spots by artists lucky enough not to be signed to Death Row (including Ant Banks, Treach, E-40, DJ Quik, and Scarface), and a slew of tracks by new Death Row artists unlikely to make anyone forget Sam Snead or The Lady Of Rage, much less Dr. Dre or Snoop Doggy Dogg. Snoop and Dre are nowhere to be found on Chronic 2000, the better to make room for such commercial sure things as Milkbone, a white rapper whose Eminem-dissing track, "Presenting Milkbone," is the most pathetic dis song this side of labelmate J. Flexx's "Who Been There, Who Done That." Dissing Dre and Snoop is a recurring theme on Chronic 2000, with Snoop and Dre-bashing raps showing up not only on "Presenting Milkbone," but also "It's Easy To Be A Soldier When There's No War" and "Don't Forget Where You Came From." Of course, this would all be a lot easier to take if the new Death Row offered anything even remotely as strong as the work of Snoop or Dre. Instead, all the current Death Row has to offer is the flaccid R&B of Danny Boy and Jewel, the shameless Snoop Dogg mimicry of Top Dogg, the No Limit copping of Doobie, and the unremarkable female gangsta rap of Capricorn and VK. As a historical artifact, Chronic 2000 is fascinating; as proof that Death Row remains a viable label, it's a failure.