If there’s a rapper who is all things to all fans, this reviewer has yet to hear him do his thing. That doesn’t stop some from trying, and it seems to be the primary objective for Fat Joe on The Elephant in the Room, his eighth solo release.

No question, Joe’s been in the game a long time. And truth be told, he’s been a lot more better at keeping up with the changing times than many of his peers, successfully flipping from street to club records, and even returning most of the way back again on Me, Myself and I, his previous album. With Elephant, he proves to be somewhat less adept at combining his various styles into one coherent whole.

Part of the problem is that Joe can’t seem to find any magic among the more radio-friendly tracks, despite working with some of the same producers who have struck gold in the past. The first single, “I Won’t Tell” (featuring J. Holiday) is a decent, danceable effort by The Hitmen, but it’s hard to see it becoming a radio hit on the level of “Get It Poppin’.” Joe’s more recent Southern influences are in full effect on “Ain’t Saying Nothin’” and the DJ Khaled-dominated “Get it for Life,” though they also fall a bit flat. Even another guest chorus by Lil Wayne on “The Crackhouse” isn’t enough to pull things out of the doldrums.

The lone standout on the disc’s first half is “Cocababy,” where Joe explores what seems to be his umpteenth different alias over a sinister drum loop courtesy of Danja. The expiration date on Jackie Rubio’s hook may need to be checked though – “As we proceed to give you what you need” is well over a decade old at this point.

Just when the uninspiring “K.A.R.” and “300 Brolic” have you ready to give up on Elephant, things get interesting on the final three tracks. “Preacher on a Sunday Morning” might not be Joe’s best song concept, but it does have a guitar-heavy Scott Storch beat and some lines that are aimed at other familiar NY rappers. Along with his continuing beef with 50 Cent, Joe seems to be taking shots at Papoose (“Everybody’s beefing, it’s the same old thing/All these mixtape rappers now want to claim king.”) and possibly even Jay-Z (“Can anybody tell me where’s San Tropez?/All these so-called killers trying their best to dress gay.”).

Lest we think Joe has burned all his bridges in the five boroughs, he enlists the help of a pair of New York legends to close out the album. “My Conscience” finds KRS-One in the Jiminy Cricket role, helping walk us back through Joe’s career and life, and “That White” puts DJ Premier in the booth to cook up his signature sound while Joey Crack cooks up some old school drug rap: “Thank God for that white/We slanging it all day, we cooking it all night./It’s on with the don, never let shit slide/Have your ass wearing a patch like Slick Rick’s eye.”

Joe gets an A for effort, but there’s too many dull moments on The Elephant in the Room to avoid giving it a much lower grade for execution. Trying to reach a bunch of different audiences with one album is a goal as big as the animal in the title, and this one doesn’t quite get there. – Nick Tylwalk