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A snarling lion graces the cover of the fifth full-length release from Curtis Jackson, better known as 50 Cent. Juxtapose this with the covers of 50’s first two—and decidedly most acclaimed—albums, nearly identical shots of the rapper, expressionless with exposed ripped torso, and a narrative arc emerges. The art that graces 50’s albums perfectly reflects his unfortunate musical progression from iconoclastic swagger to desperate stylistic amalgamation. The latter three are increasingly plagued by high-concept beats and half-baked emotional journeys. “Animal Ambition,” which alternates wildly between well-executed rehashes of 50’s old sound and scattered attempts at a new sound, is another inconsistent entry in the artist’s increasingly frustrating recording career.

On his earlier releases, 50 Cent’s initial lyrical and personal appeal was his effortlessness: When he was showcasing his game (“In da Club”), the flirtation rolled off his tongue with nary a change in tone. When he was talking about his violent past (“Ski Mask Way”) he sounded matter-of-fact and never especially regretful or haunted. The aural landscapes that accompanied his laid-back missives were equally minimalist and charming—powerful Dr. Dre or Dre-esque beats that were heavy on synth and low on subtlety. The most entertaining tracks on “Animal Ambition” are those that follow this formula and sound like the 50 Cent of ten years ago. “Smoke” is a fun sex-and-marijuana anthem in the vein of 2003’s “High All the Time.” Dre, unsurprisingly, produces the smooth and low-tempo beat, while Trey Songz offers a catchy hook decidedly low on vocal gymnastics. The track could have easily been bumping in Tower Records as legions of pre-teens clad in G-Unit merchandise lined up to buy “Get Rich or Die Tryin’.”

The other two standouts on the album, opening track “Hold On” and “Pilot,” are just as much of a throwback. The former contains some of the most openly aggressive lines the rapper has dropped in a long time. 50 openly calls out G-Unit enemy Jimmy Henchman, who was recently convicted to life in prison, and spits rhymes like “Strap under my pillow, I done went legit / I’m not supposed to do this shit, but I forget.” While the rest of the album eschews specificity for more general visions of 50’s alternating happiness with his glamour and incessant violent tendencies, “Hold On” comes out of the gate with concrete examples and stinging delivery. “Pilot” showcases the gruff melodicism and playful sexiness that made “21 Questions” so iconic. The hook, a glitzy, G5-obsessed affair that ends with a descending scale of “oh no, no-no, no-no,” shows 50 in good voice and as effective with dronish ditties as ever, while the verses chug along with a sustained venom and efficiency.

Unfortunately, 50’s attempts to incorporate elements of the contemporary rap scene into his work are incorrigible. This isn’t a new problem—2007’s Timbaland-produced, obsessively futuristic “Ayo Technology” was an early indicator of 50 Cent’s limited adaptability to musical trends. Here, the title track is perhaps the worst offender. An EDM-laced beat complete with lion growls and hyena howls finds 50 hardly able to stay within the rhyme scheme. “Twisted,” a triumphant rap-song that sounds like a loose imitation of a Drake track, includes a laughably derivative hook from the one-hit-wonder “Waves” singer Mr. Probz. The second-half of the album is consistently difficult and is capped by “Chase the Paper,” a lame attempt at a cipher with middling guests Prodigy, Kidd Kidd, and Styles P.

The fact that 50 Cent fails on the tracks that integrate the styles of the moment is not an excuse for him to release an entire album of 2003 material. The entertaining tracks on “Animal Ambition” only work because they are diamonds in the rough. Their lack of substantial cultural commentary or musical innovation makes them hopelessly passé in a full-album format. 50 Cent, who isn’t particularly good at integrating other artists’ ideas, needs to come up with his own transformation or risk irrelevance. Jay-Z’s struggle is similar. Both rappers gained recognition through their arrogance, tales of crime, and their newfound wealth. The two have struggled, however, as the wild successes of their businesses have undone the tenability of their initial personae. Jay-Z has responded artistically through misguided attempts at pop-culture criticism, while 50 Cent has stuck to attempts at musical progression. Perhaps 50, who barely mentions anything inherently 2014 on “Animal Ambition,” could bring the necessary irony to an album more focused on analyzing the present instead of the self. In any case, 50 Cent is yet to prove he can effectively expand upon the sound that made him famous.

—Staff writer David J. Kurlander can be reached at david.kurlander@thecrimson.com.