Surf Album review Surf Album review

Review: The Only Thing To Say About Donnie Trumpet, Chance The Rapper and SoX's 'Surf' Is Thank You

The group album 'Surf' is one of the most refreshing bodies of music to come out in the last 365.

Good luck finding the flaws in Donnie Trumpet and The Social Experiment’s latest LP

 

Not to be a Debbie Downer, but it's easy to feel like listening to music these days is a chore. Pressing play on tunes every calendar date of the year—some of which are great, many not so much—just for the sake of being in the know and keeping readers up to speed gets personally draining. Unlike consumers with the luxury of selectivity, it’s our job as music journalists to take it all in: the same 10 radio cuts in heavy rotation, empty tales of b-tches and hoes freely hopping in rappers’ whips, third grade reading level lyrics knocking around on trap 808 beats, backdrop songs to tossing crumpled up George Washingtons at quaking cheeks. Eventually, it all begins to feel soulless. However, every so often, a record comes along that really, truly moves you and shifts your whole mood. Something that you actually want to listen to over and over again. An unexpected cup of paint spilled onto your record player, swirling around spectrum ribbons as it plays. For me (and for many, according to Chance The Rapper), Donnie Trumpet and The Social Experiment's surprise release, Surf, was that necessary burst of color. And for it, I'm thankful.

Surf is easily one of the most refreshing musical releases since the drought of 2014. Totaling at 16 tracks, the freebie LP takes the emotions on an uphill roller coaster ride. From the woozy intro to the doo wop-style closer, the album zeroes in on the communication of positive vibes and moods through robust instrumentation. It's as if the creative troupe's instruments of choice—Chance with the raps, Peter Cottontale and Nate Fox on the keys, Greg Landfair Jr. on the drums and Donnie Trumpet with his namesake tool and backing vocals—tell stories of their own. Trumpets whisper mournful, sinister secrets on the lyricless "Nothing Came To Me." "Something Came To Me" (also instrumental) is the response to the first song, with more answers than questions communicated through gradient horns belted across a college football field. The Lion King-inspired congo drums of "Windows" tip-toe around you, beckoning you to the center of the dance circle. Bumping bass strings paired with the triumphant horns of “Go” crash over eardrums like a wave. Sunny steel pans and church organs of “Sunday Candy” ignite spiritual euphoria in pew-bound listeners. Jubilant is the operative adjective for the sonics of this LP.

From the album's hazy promo moments to well after it was released, the crew of indie darlings made it known that this diverse culmination of sounds and styles was a group effort. The spotlight never hovers over one person too long before shifting the focus to another musical feat. Despite the star-studded roster of talent stitched into the stanzas—you’ll hear Busta Rhymes, Erykah Badu, Jeremih, Janelle Monae, J.Cole, Big Sean, BJ the Chicago Kid, B.o.B, Migos member, Quavo and more—a majority of them are unnamed on the tracklist. All featured voices here are used as sonic paintbrushes rather than a boast of star power. Chance and Co. act as unifiers (think of a less self-centered DJ Khaled), bringing together legends from the big leagues and buzzing starlets who still require the occasional Google search.

On the appropriately titled “Warm Enough,” spoken word vibes are conjured up between Cole and Noname Gypsy (who appeared on “Lost” from Chano’s much more melancholy Acid Rap). “Slip Slide” marries a drumline style marching band with Busta’s jovial tongue twisters, B.o.B’s charismatic bars, BJ’s soulful runs and Monae’s on-and-off coos. Kyle’s pleasantly kiddish drawl about Instagram likes gets sandwiched between Jeremih’s high register refrains and Big Sean’s rags to riches story on “Wanna Be Cool.” While clowning dime-a-dozen IG models on “Familiar,” King Louie and Quavo trade sing-songy bars as opposed to ratchet raps and Ady Suleiman croons soulfully about visceral feelings as Ms. Badu slides into our DM's on "Rememory." On “Windows,” Raury’s gentle scats blow in the wind beneath Chance’s cautious warnings, building horns and pitter-patter percussion. Beyonce’s it pick D.R.A.M. melts off the end of the too-short “Caretaker” while Mike Golden, Lili K, Jesse Boykins III and Joey Purp trade upbeat funk and soul on “Go.” The syrupy sweet and infectious vocals of Eryn Allen Kane and Jamila Woods are practically here, there and everywhere on Surf. It's a beautiful amalgam of familiar and unfamiliar sounds.

Even beyond album guests, Surf is a celebration of community, which falls in line with what Chance the Rapper preaches on and off wax. It’s all reflective of his communal approach to living life and making music. Lyrically, songs take a look at friendships, relationships, family, his city and the love, joy and gratefulness that orbit around such entities. “Homies breathing/Families eating/Mama singing, is a miracle,” Chance sings earnestly on “Miracle.” Thanks to Chance, uplifting mantras grandmothers preach to youngsters about patience ("Just Wait"), self-love ("Wanna Be Cool") and getting your footing in life ("Slip Slide") go down like sweets instead of Robitussin. Surf—which only has four songs with curse words on them—has a message for everyone.

Unlike VIBE's knee-jerk review, I sat with Surf several times. I've played it at work. I've played it on the train. I've played it walking down the street bumping through idle tourists. I've played it on the car with family. I've played it in the car for strangers. Although the track list and order remained identical, the experience felt like a new one every time I played it. A different song jutted out at me, begging for a replay. A new ad lib was unveiled. A new favorite was almost declared (it's hard to unseat "Sunday Candy" as the undisputed shining star of the project). There was always a feeling of newness with every play. Of discovery. Of diversity. Of joy. It's music that makes you think, feel, and most importantly, smile, which is hard to find when sifting though stuff that only knocks when coming out of club speakers and in between spilled drinks.

Donnie Trumpet and The Social Experiment truly have a gem with Surf. Since the album is so inclusive of multiple styles and audiences, it's a damn near dudless project. And it's free, so you can't really complain even if you wanted to nitpick and find something. Based on all the freebies dropped in the months prior to Surf (“Hiatus”,  “Wonderful Everyday”, “Lady Friend”,  “No Better Blues” and “I Am Very Very Lonely”), it’s clearly not about making money for Chance & Co. For them, creating music is about an honest desire to make the world a happier, more thoughtful place one song at a time. What’s not to love about that? —Stacy-Ann Ellis

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Review: Anderson .Paak Reroutes To 'Ventura'

Just five months after his last album Oxnard, singer/producer/drummer/entertainer extraordinaire Anderson .Paak is back with Ventura, his fourth studio LP. Depending on who you ask, the new project is either a surprise second course, or a round of comped desserts to make up for an overdone entree.

The Korean-African-American musician born Brandon Paak Anderson spent the first half of this decade intermittently recording under the name Breezy Lovejoy, converting rock songs into R&B, and drumming for an American Idol alumnus. In 2015, he emerged into the national spotlight thanks to six features on Compton, the long-gestating Dr. Dre album formerly known as Detox. He took advantage of the attention and released two full-lengths in 2016: Malibu was a sprawling solo album that showed him equally deft with bass-heavy club tracks or Sam Cooke-esque soul. Yes Lawd!, a collaboration with producer Knxwledge under the name NxWorries, was a chopped up stoner odyssey, Madvillainy if DOOM could sing as well as he spit. That same year, .Paak announced that he had signed to Dr. Dre’s label Aftermath in a brief but celebratory video featuring the rap mogul himself.

.Paak took nearly three years to unleash the full power of the PR by Dre machine: he debuted the lead single on Zane Lowe, soundtracked an Apple ad, and compared the album to landmarks like The Blueprint and The College Dropout. When Oxnard finally dropped last November, reviews were generally positive but mixed, and it peaked at 11 on the Billboard album charts. Enough fans felt the singer had strayed from his post-millennial soul sound that his own mother felt the need to clap back. With a sprawling summer tour schedule looming, .Paak released his follow-up, Ventura, last Friday.

To hear the artist tell it, that was always the plan. “I told Dre when we were maybe about 80 percent into the Oxnard record that I wanted to actually do two records and he started scratching his head. ...I was like, ‘Let me do two, man. One will be gritty, one will be pretty,’” .Paak told HipHopDX. It’s clear that both albums were compiled from the same sessions, but they are distinct. While Anderson .Paak’s last project emphasized the Michael Bay-sized hip-hop beats that Dr. Dre perfected at the turn of the millennium, Ventura has a more soulful sound. It doesn’t slap, it grooves.

As the cover portrait of the artist with his child suggests, Ventura is an intimate record. He’s focused on sex and love in the long term, the ups and downs of relationships years after the introductory one night stands other pop stars sing about. His blunt-burnt yet sweet voice conjures a charming scoundrel character on record, a dad celebrating Friday night with a popped collar and glass overflowing with dark liquor. It’s a compelling persona .Paak previously exaggerated to cartoonish proportions on Yes Lawd!

Here, his pen shines on the small moments that hint at big feelings. On “Jet Black,” .Paak and his girl are getting physical for the first time in some time, sharing the peak of an unfamiliar high. “It’s been a while, baby, come here,” .Paak beckons. The house beat burbles with slap bass and descending organ as Brandy sings “Feels like someone lifted me.”

.Paak heats up a similarly chilled relationship on the luxuriant “Make It Better.” “Meet me at the hotel motel, though we got a room at home, go to a place that we don't know so well,” he murmurs. Over a laidback thump, .Paak tries to reignite passion in order to save his relationship. His voice desperately yelps on the chorus as the pressure he feels to reconnect emerges, but it quickly subsides into sweet nothings. Smokey Robinson’s backing vocals float in like he’s playing on a radio outside the lovers’ motel room. They’re buried low enough in the mix to suggest that if you’re cool enough to get a feature from a quiet storm legend, you’re cool enough not to rub it in.

Ventura’s precursor was stocked with verses from luminaries like Snoop Dogg, Q-Tip, and Kendrick Lamar, but Ventura’s only guest rapper, Andre 3000, appears on the first track, “Come Home.” It’s a rough start. The song opens with a piano melody that loops but never resolves, creating an anxiety similar to an iPhone alarm clock tone. .Paak begs for someone to come home, but it’s unconvincing, like he doesn’t yet understand why they left in the first place.

While Smokey’s feature is masterfully underplayed, Andre 3000’s verse gets a garish spotlight. Since Idlewild, 3 Stacks has made a habit of releasing guest verses on occasion in lieu of making an album of his own. When he’s on, he’s one of the best rappers alive, but “Come Home” is a rare misstep. The Outkast rapper fills entire bars with syllables about asking for forgiveness on a moped with a puppy, but it doesn’t feel charismatic. Fitting Willy Wonka, Tilikum, and Billabong into the same verse is admirable in a technical sense, but it feels like Andre’s “Rap God” technique for its own sake.

The album finishes much stronger. The last track “What Can We Do?” is built around a chiming sitar, and it savors contentment like a West Coast “(Sittin’ On) The Dock of the Bay.” .Paak duets with Nate Dogg on the hook, using recordings made before the legend’s untimely death in 2011. The deceased vocalist was a key G-funk ingredient, but his voice sits comfortably in a sunnier sound. It’s a credit to .Paak that the faux studio banter that closes the song feels natural.

The other features are similarly complementary to .Paak. Lalah Hathaway coos in unison with him on the disco half of “Reachin’ 2 Much.” Jazmine Sullivan plays the other woman, forced to climb in through the fire escape to retrieve her rings and “Good Heels” the morning after. Only Sonyae Elise spars with her host, offering a righteous rebuttal to his demands for the women in his life and sarcastically suggesting that he might be the “Chosen One.”

.Paak name drops to a few key inspirations in his lyrics as well. Later in “Chosen One,” he raps, “Heard your fans want to keep you in the underground, cool, when I blow up say I did it for MF DOOM,” a reminder of his pre-fame time in LA’s crate digging underground scenes. He contemplates leaving a relationship on “Reachin’ 2 Much” and all he can offer is “I’ll see you next lifetime, baby, what did Badu say?”

Like Erykah Badu’s New Amerykah diptych a decade ago, .Paak’s lyrics about current events are enough to provoke reflection without detracting from the physical pull of the grooves. He nimbly raps “Chicken wings and sushi, I’ve gotten used to the perks, narrowly escaping the holy war on the turf” on “Yada Yada.” Lead single “King James” praises people with public platforms for refusing to go along with a murderous status quo, promising to jump over any wall and bring the neighbors with. In the midst of his “Winners Circle” flirtation, .Paak raps “When I get the gushy, I go dumb like the President.” It’s not a jaw-dropping lyric, but it’s comforting to know that a bar that direct will be performed in arenas across America this summer.

Anderson .Paak’s talent is unquestionable and his spotlight is well-deserved, especially knowing he’s endured homelessness and familial legal trouble on his come-up. To his credit, he appears to be striving towards a magnum opus, a landmark album that becomes a household name like The Chronic or Midnight Marauders. Despite his strong catalog plus a plethora of excellent features, .Paak has yet to deliver that opus. (Yes Lawd!’s destiny as a cult classic aside.) Ventura is a fun, pleasant listen, and an improvement on the bombast of Oxnard. Like most double albums, one gets the feeling that there’s a great forty minute playlist waiting to be assembled from their best tracks.

Ventura ultimately doesn’t quite match the highs of his earlier albums, but it’s a leisurely stroll in the right direction. Nearly a decade into his recording career, it’s proof that .Paak can always find his way to the next beach.

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Saint Records

Solange's ‘When I Get Home’ Is A Reminder That Black Stories Don’t Have To Be Burdensome

Solange’s critically acclaimed A Seat At The Table concluded with “Closing: The Chosen Ones” and on it, Master P proclaimed, “We come here as slaves, but we going out as royalty.” It was an optimistic message to end a project reflecting on the burdens that African Americans carry because of white supremacy. On her follow-up, When I Get Home, Solange is in alignment with Master P’s focus on the glory. She shifts her storytelling to a black experience that isn’t troubled by the traumas caused by whiteness.

Picking up where the last album ended, Solange signals her mood change on When I Get Home’s opening track, “Things I Imagined.” On the final verse, she repeats in soothing harmonies that she’s “taking on the light.” In the 18 tracks ahead, she does so by illuminating and crowning the beauty of Houston, her hometown, in a way she hasn’t before in her art.

The singer spoke on reconnecting with Houston’s Third Ward and surrounding parts of the city and state to make this album during a screening event attended by VIBE’s Desire Thompson. “Certain things that might've been mundane to me visually started to really enrich me and enrich my spirit,” she said. Solange has lived in Idaho, Los Angeles, Brooklyn, New York, and currently New Orleans, yet there is nothing like the thrills her hometown offers her. “I think [that] just growing up in Texas is such a spirited place, any given time of day you can see and experience something that's so unique and so grounded in our culture here.”

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“When I Get Home” the film coming out tonight at 4pm PT/7pm ET on @applemusic and i couldn’t be more proud ! Link in the bio 🖤🖤 y’all so damn much!

A post shared by @ saintrecords on Mar 1, 2019 at 1:50pm PST

Through music and film, Solange offers another narrative of black Southern culture that’s much more than the usual themes of slavery, lynchings and segregation. It’s a celebration of heritage that has existed, before these interruptions, and continues to thrive today. Actress Lynn Whitfield reminds audiences that black storytelling doesn’t have to exist solely be painful in an episode of Netflix’s Strong Black Lead podcast.

“There are dynamics of families and riches...and traditions of black family that have not a damn thing to do with white people, racism, slavery or anybody else,” Whitfield said. “Some of our problems are just our own problems. Some of our complexity is just ours. And I want to own that,” she continued.

Solange widens those possibilities with the experimental and collaborative When I Get Home. The singer offers 19 nostalgic dreamy jazz-focused meditations, propelled by psychedelic synths and chopped and screwed beats. It feels like the soundtrack to a joy ride at night with Solange in the driver’s seat guiding us around Houston. The accompanying movie invokes imagery of black cowboys, rodeos, 90s hairstyles, Nokia cell phones, Houston architecture and afro-futurist treatments such as 3D animations and surrealist fantasies. Solange also used BlackPlanet, the black-focused online community that predates the Facebook, Twitter and Instagram era, to tease the album before releasing on March 1.

Solange’s album arrived at the end of Black History Month and the beginning of Women’s History Month. Whether intentional or coincidental, it’s black women who narrate the project. The interludes sample media footage of black women poets, artists, actresses and spiritual gurus. And the interludes are where so much of the experimentation happens on the album. “S McGregor (interlude)” features the voices of Solange’s hometown heroes Debbie Allen and Phylicia Rashad over piano keys and a haunting chopped and screwed vocal. According to her mother, Tina Knowles, the song title is named after the street where Allen and Rashad’s father lived. On “Nothing Without Intention” Solange lays down another hazy chopped and screwed beat, and in the final seconds we hear the Goddess Lula Belle state “do nothing without intention,” which is borrowed from her YouTube video, "Florida Water For Cleansing and Clearing.” And the words just seem to stick with you.

By this point of the album, it’s clear Solange’s intentions for this project is to explore her creative range. The album’s experimentation is credited to her love for Stevie Wonder’s Journey Through A Secret Life of Plants. Solange was also influenced by Joni Mitchell, Missy Elliot, The Sun Ra Arkestra, and Aaliyah, as outlined in the New York Times last October. Solange won’t be contained and let it be known on “Can I Hold the Mic,” which starts off with an interview clip of Princess and Diamond of Crime Mob. Solo then blends in a spoken word.

“I can't be a singular expression of myself, there's too many parts, too many spaces, too many manifestations, too many lines, too many curves, too many troubles, too many journeys, too many mountains, too many rivers, so many…” Solange proclaims over zig-zagging chords.

Solange gives us those varying parts of herself throughout the album. Sometimes she’s free-spirited like on the all-star “Almeda” (a road in Houston), produced by Pharrell and featuring The-Dream, Metro Boomin, and Playboi Carti. “Brown skin, brown face/Brown leather, brown sugar,” Solange chants on the verses. Solange also makes another reference to Florida Water, a cologne used for cleansing rituals by Santeria and West African Vodun practitioners. The track invokes imagery of the height of gatherings, where black people can safely let down their guards and ease into bliss. The hardcore drum and bass and playful ad-libbing make this a celebratory anthem that’s speaker rattling hip-hop at its core. When I Get Home has hip-hop all over it, with keyboards from Tyler, the Creator on “Down With the Clique”; the Metro Boomin-produced “Stay Flo”; a Gucci Mane feature on “My Skin My Logo”; and fellow Houstonian, Scarface on “(Not Screwed) Interlude.”

There are moments when her sensual side breaks through, especially on the groovy “Way to the Show.” Her feathery vocals beckon a person she deeply desires, while she makes a reference to Houston’s eclectic car culture. “Call me, even on the way to the show/Way to the show, candy paint down to the floor.” Singer Cassie provides angelic background vocals. On the velvety “Jerrod” she continues panting for physical contact. “Come and say the word and you know you gon' hit it,” she sings, giving the green light.

When she takes us to an introspective space, her vocals are on full display as she exercises hearty rips and runs. For instance, there’s the woozy, “Dreams,” reminding listeners to remain steadfast in chasing them. (“Dreams, they come a long way, not today”). On the soul-stirring “Time (Is),” Solange reunites with Sampha to be in conversation with her fears. She pushes past them by leaping into action. “But the way to do it/Just (Yay)/Do us just/ Then you’ll know/ Go.”

The fear of releasing a body of work that’s true to her current creative moods could have been crippling for Solange, especially when following up on a heralded project like A Seat at The Table. When an artist returns with an album that’s experimental compared to its predecessor, its reception could be divided, or worse, written off completely. Recent examples of this being done successfully include Kendrick Lamar’s transition from the Compton-centered good kid, m.A.A.d city to the jazz and funk-laden To Pimp a Butterfly, or Rihanna going from her usual pop bangers on Unapologetic to the vibey Anti. But there are instances when artists don’t receive the same love for switching up, such as Anderson .Paak’s move from the soulful Malibu to a more hip-hop driven Oxnard, or A$AP Rocky’s transition from a more favorable AT.LONG.LAST.A$AP to less trendy sounds on Testing.

But Solange chooses to show up uninhibited anyway. Although she’s taken some risks sonically by calling on jazz fusion, she modernizes it by blending hip-hop soundscapes, especially by threading in the influences of DJ Screw, who defined the sounds of her former stomping grounds and mainstream hip-hop.

Solange returning to her roots for inspiration can easily be tied to “Sankofa,” a word from the Akan people of Ghana that means “go back and fetch.” “It expresses the importance of reaching back to knowledge gained in the past and bringing it into the present in order to make positive progress,” Sankofa.org, a social justice organization founded by Harry Belafonte, writes. Solange’s When I Get Home does just that. She achieves creative evolution and the progression of black storytelling through music. And while doing so, she proudly points back to her Houston origins by sprinkling in numerous layers, references and clues. If you know, you know. If you don’t, prepare to be transformed.

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2 Chainz performs onstage during the iHeartRadio album release party with 2 Chainz at iHeartRadio Theater on March 04, 2019 in Burbank, California.
Kevin Winter

With ‘Rap Or Go To The League,’ 2 Chainz Isn’t Underrated Anymore: Review

It’s hard to believe that 2 Chainz still thinks he’s underrated in 2019.

“I know I am underrated,” he reaffirmed to Charlamagne Tha God on The Breakfast Club. “If you do a survey, people will sleep on me because sometimes they don’t understand it. It don’t bother me. I’ve always been highly confident. It’s a thin line between cockiness and confidence. And sometimes, I straddle both of them.”

Cockiness and confidence are how 2 Chainz has stayed on top of his game. It’s been his goal to be respected as one of the best MCs in hip-hop, regardless of how many people slept on his previous mixtapes and albums. Whether you know him as Tity Boi, the Drench God, or any other of his many AKAs, he is certainly the hardest working rapper who has earned his spot, rapping alongside the likes of Raekwon, Lil Wayne, Kanye West, Drake, Pharrell, and Nicki Minaj since leaving Playaz Circle, his duo under Ludacris' label Disturbing Tha Peace. Throughout his catalog, which includes fan favorites T.R.U. REALigion and his Trap-A-Velli series, Chainz has shown immense growth as an artist, constantly drawing from his personal stories to create anthems for every occasion – hitting licks, throwing birthday parties, making your momma proud. Chainz always got one for you to walk in and then turn up to.

The 41-year-old rapper wants to continue maturing as an artist, hoping his music delivers on quality so he gets the credit he deserves. After the widespread acclaim of 2017’s Pretty Girls Like Trap Music, with many critics calling it his best work at the time, Chainz wasn’t satisfied with the praise. Recognizing his peers have been using their platforms to educate on subjects like ownership (Jay-Z) and criminal justice reform (Meek Mill), Chainz saw an opportunity to make another play, one that involves addressing a common misconception about what defines success among young black men in poor communities.

 

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With the height of racial tensions across America I felt I should do my part in explaining some of the brain washing formulas used in my community , this album not only touches on those who did succeed thru entertainment but those who didn't ! Welcome to Rap or Go TO THE LEAGUE ! My 5th solo studio album and project that shows continued growth , success , and motivation which is playing a role in the shift of the trap paradigm ✌🏿⛓ #ROGTTL @airsignusa

A post shared by 2 Chainz Aka Tity Boi (@2chainz) on Feb 17, 2018 at 11:29am PST

Rap or Go to the League, his fifth studio album, was announced in February 2018 as his version of “black excellence.” “In my culture, in my community, we were often told [that] it was the only thing and the only way we could get out of the circumstances we were put in,” he explains of the title. At the height of racial tensions across America, he elaborated on the concept as dissecting “some of the brainwashing formulas used in my community.” Chainz is a product of College Park, Georgia and considered a success story, evolving from being an ex-drug dealer and ex-athlete to a veteran rapper who has gotten better with age.

It’s why LeBron James, the executive producer and A&R of Rap or Go to the League, was perfect for the album’s messaging. The Lakers star was faced with his own set of criticisms when he talked politics during an ESPN interview, inciting journalist Laura Ingraham to attack his views. “Keep the political commentary to yourself,” she infamously said on Fox News’ The Ingraham Angle. “Or as someone once said, ‘Shut up and dribble.’”

Chainz recognized that LeBron is not only a talented basketball player but plays an important position in hip-hop culture as a curator and celebrity influencer. Instagram Stories of him jamming and scrunching his face to early records by Tee Grizzley, Meek Mill, and Nipsey Hussle, as well as convincing Kendrick Lamar to drop untitled unmastered., are hallmarks of a good A&R. He is more than an athlete, using his voice to effect change, and nowhere near as one-dimensional as Ingraham suggested. In many ways, Rap or Go to the League is a justification that these two can step up and prove their doubters wrong: Chainz can be considered in the G.O.A.T. conversation, and LeBron can empower the youth to believe any dream is possible. You can rap. You can go to the league. You can be more than what society tells you to be.

Chainz uses his own narrative to drive these points on Rap or Go to the League. If LeBron didn’t convince you that Chainz was coming with substance, the album’s opener, titled “Forgotten,” sets the bar of how weighted his songs will be. Marsha Ambrosius anchors Chainz’ emotional lyrics on his hoop dreams turned to nightmares. The second verse is more telling as he reveals how he felt after learning about the murder of his friend and former Disturbing tha Peace labelmate Lil’ Fate’s son. “My head achin', hands started shakin' / Foul beyond flagrant / He said, ‘Bro, what I’m supposed to do?’ / I paused, remorseful / We been partners since public school / Kids ain’t supposed to die before us,” he raps. To end on a spoken word poem about the realities of a black boy living in America is Chainz exploring what it means to be socially conscious. It’s his mission to teach lessons now.

 

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@gas by the BIGGEST TRAPPER OF EM ALL !!!! 🙏🏿💪🏿🔥

A post shared by 2 Chainz Aka Tity Boi (@2chainz) on Oct 26, 2018 at 5:32pm PDT

Chainz and LeBron wanted this album to be played from top to bottom so listeners can take everything in as a whole. Chainz’s first two albums – Based on a T.R.U. Story and B.O.A.T.S. II #METIME – lacked a cohesion that Rap or Go to the League clearly has grounded in Atlanta while elevating trap music to a new paradigm. Each song is based on a true story of Chainz’s life, where he’ll go from saying he owns his own masters (“Threat 2 Society”) to listing all the possible crimes he’s committed and the people he served back in the day (“Statute of Limitations”). In a full circle moment, Chainz has a legal marijuana business now called GAS Cannabis Co. No rap cap.

Chainz has a lot of pride in being a black entrepreneur, who is here to share his knowledge of success through his music. Topics like property investing to stunting in his own Versace collab are motivational benchmarks, but the messages amplify with his relatable, come-up stories. On songs like “I Said Me” and “I’m Not Crazy, Life Is,” Chainz wants you to know that he isn’t perfect, owning up to his past (“…And my daughter asked me what a drug dealer was? I said ‘me’”) and believing in his passion (“They say that I'm crazy now / They said I was crazy then”) are just some of the keys to unlocking your fullest potential. “Sam” tackles taxes on the wealthy, and the abuse of knowing your hard-earned income will be taken away by the government. Chainz is no stranger to this, using it as a life lesson: just dust your shoulders off and keep it moving.

Consistency is what keeps his fans coming back for more. And 2 Chainz knows he doesn’t need to break his formula, enlisting previous collaborators like Young Thug, Travis Scott, Lil Wayne, and Chance the Rapper to add the necessary bravado to each of his records. Ariana Grande appears on the Amerie-sampling “Rule the World,” which was created after the “7 Rings” misunderstanding, and it is easily a Billboard Hot 100 contender. The idea of 2 Chainz and Kendrick Lamar sounded dope on paper, surpassing expectations on “Momma I Hit a Lick.” If you needed a reason to go out west this summer, “Girl’s Best Friend” and “2 Dollar Bill” are an excellent back-to-back pair of songs for a cruise on Sunset Boulevard.

With all these all-star features on his resume, is 2 Chainz hot enough for a Jay-Z feature? The subtle homages to Hov – sampling “Lucifer” and “Dead Presidents” – and shouting him out on “Threat 2 Society” over a 9th Wonder beat are all perfect jumpers in form. Chainz has talked about working with Jay more than once, recently name-checking him on “Burglar Bars,” and it seems Jay is willing to collaborate even though he apparently missed this album. It’s a bucket list item that Chainz needs before Hov really retires.

There’s one line on “NCAA,” a boisterous track calling out why college athletes don’t get paid, where Chainz raps, “drop my album off the court and make 'em post it.” Not only is this “caption music” at the highest levels (that guitar line is an A1 bar too), it showcases how much admiration he has from the community during on and off season. Just days after Rap or Go to the League’s release, Diddy, Royce da 5'9", French Montana, and more promoted it on social media, congratulating him on what is unanimously his tightest project he’s ever made.

 

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Man @diddy you fukd me up with this one ..always wondered if you remembered that 😳🤭

A post shared by 2 Chainz Aka Tity Boi (@2chainz) on Mar 1, 2019 at 8:44pm PST

2 Chainz isn’t underrated. And even if you still think that after listening to Rap or Go to the League, he’s going to continue bettering himself, pushing boundaries in hip-hop and the intersecting cultures until that validation arrives.

“I ain’t gonna stop being myself, I ain’t gonna stop being highly talented. Qualified,” he said on The Breakfast Club.“I always told myself when I get to the table, whatever table that is, I deserve to be there.”

You deserve it and more, King Chainz.

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