Gunna is living life through rose-colored glasses, and with the release of WUNNA, we get to see life through those same pink lenses. This idea translates not only to the music and his aesthetic, but his optimistic, relaxed view on life. 

WUNNA was recorded almost entirely in Jamaica. As we get to see glimpses of Gunna’s surroundings in the album’s two-part documentary, the sound we’re introduced to on WUNNA begins to make sense: as a whole, it’s serene, energizing and uplifting. Meanwhile, his tropical environment could be described similarly.

However it isn’t just the vibe on WUNNA that is a level-up for the rapper. It’s immediately clear that both time and attention were poured into WUNNA. The cover art is a detailed cartoon yet life-like image of Gunna, surrounded by astrological symbols, created in the likeness of the Vitrun Man. The colour itself is the perfect depiction of the album: a purple-pink hue, with a yellow sheen to it– the same palette you might find when watching a breath-taking sunset in a foreign location. The back cover is not just a simple tracklisting, it provides you with the credits that would usually go unseen, from producers to engineers. The background is a starry night– a meditative and tranquil view. 

Simply unpacking the artwork is enough to show you the care and precision that Gunna put into this body of work– but it’s just as noticeable throughout the 18-song tracklist. Despite the trend for lengthier tracklists, it’s a difficult feat to pull off. Gunna does it successfully, and some of the acknowledgement needs to go towards the producer Wheezy, who not only helped executive produce the album, but has production credits on half of the songs as well. With his guiding hand, the album plays smoothly and cohesively all the way through. 

“Argentina” kicks it off, ensuring we’re already thinking about somewhere foreign; it’s as though Gunna is preparing us for the vacation we’re about to take with him. Gunna’s voice comes in hazily alongside the strumming of a melancholic guitar, but despite any lackadaisical flows, his voice is at its sharpest throughout this album. His squeaky cadence and slight drawl are still intact, to be sure, but he’s cleaned up his rough edges– perhaps a simple matter of the care that was put into the mixing and mastering process.

“Argentina” eases us into the album confidently, where “Gimmick” picks up the energy a notch and assures us we’re well on our way. Still, the energy doesn’t necessarily surpass that of “Gimmick” throughout the project, even on the hard-hitting “Rockstar Bikers & Chains.” On the latter, screeching guitar and scratchy hi-hats are accompanied by a chorus of forced breathes, making for one of Gunna’s most unique ad-libs– and taking a cue from Roddy Ricch, in the sense that he delivers a strange sound which becomes one with the beat. 

Prior to the album’s release, Gunna dropped off the title track, “WUNNA,” which finds placement in the middle of the tracklist, acting as an interlude. The song is a seemingly structureless romp in the booth, with Gunna free associating words and humming melodies. It feels natural just as much as it feels spontaneous. This word-association idea is one that Gunna explored on other songs, and it shows not only his growth as an MC but his open-mindedness. Much in the way Young Thug was avant-garde with his vocal boundaries and quirky lyrics, Gunna too is showcasing this type of outside-the-box lyrical approach. He’s packing a lot of punch into quick, short bars that seem to follow in thought somewhat vaguely. Perhaps this growth is also fostered by his familiar collaborators, some of whom, like “Addys” guest Nechie, are childhood friends. Surely it’s easier to try new things when you’re surrounded by familiar faces, ones that have been encouraging you and at your side since day one– including Young Thug, Turbo, and Wheezy as well.

“Addys” for its part is an unashamed boast about Gunna’s drug habits. The hook is a quick spurt of a word: “addy” Gunna spits, almost stopping short of finishing the word. Even with his drug-addled pursuits, he’s honest: “Spin the block, we got the addy / Wake up, I pop me a Addy / Hard to stop poppin’ these Addys.” This type of momentary frankness is littered throughout the album, bringing the listener that much closer to Gunna in the process. Elsewhere, on his collaboration with Lil Baby “Blindfold,” he remembers: “BET was trippin’, how I didn’t get an award? (How?) / You got me annoyed.”

“Met Gala” helps usher us into the final 8 songs, which includes some of the album’s strongest outings, and is a fleet of non-skippable records. The mellow, syrupy record finds Gunna flowing easily, except when he has a point to make in another fit of honesty. His vocal octave increases a notch, his passion and urgency clear: “I ain’t get this shit just from askin’, I made this shit happen and / passion, it played a big part I ain’t get this bitch off of mackin’, it came off of actions and / fashion and staying the course.” 

These types of lines become even more impactful because of their rarity. Gunna is the master of drip, and this translates extremely well into lyrics of a similar nature; but sometimes the drip he offers is for a higher level of being. As he shared about the album: “I wanted my fans to have a peek into my world, a way for them to know that regardless of what you go through, what you’ve been through, you can be successful.”

The song that follows, “Nasty Girl/On Camera,” is strictly for the drip, though. It’s a sleek banger that becomes even more exciting with its two-part nature. Wheezy is once again behind the boards, with each electronic key feeling like a literal drop in the water. Where “On Camera” ends the record in a smooth, slinking fashion, so too does “Cooler than a Bitch” pick it right back up. Gunna and Roddy Ricch skate atop the guitar-driven beat, silky and onomatopoeic in its all around breeziness. 

This light and breezy aspect of the production is a theme across the album, and, again, would seem to recall the YSL team members’ surroundings while creating WUNNA. “On Some” almost acts as a personal mantra– it’s woozy background music adding to the effect– while Gunna big ups himself, and if you’re singing along, you’re hyping yourself too: “It feel like I’m on some / I don’t back down to no one.” “Top Floor” is a high-rise anthem, a quick survey of the land from Gunna’s perspective, allowing you to see exactly what he sees. Where Travis Scott has a habit of monopolizing a song with his sound, Gunna manages to keep control of the vibe here, with a record that will surely be added to summer playlists around the world. It’s an outdoor, love-my-life type of record, which is actually what many of the songs on WUNNA are. 

It all culminates in a pair of farewell records that ensure the listener leaves the album with a positive mindset: “Do Better” and “Far,” perhaps the two most important songs on the tracklist, too. “I wanna see you do better,” Gunna croon-raps over the whimsical, distorted string production. It’s an idea that should resonate with literally, everyone in its simple and straightforward nature. It seems like the perfect way to lead us into the heartfelt ballad that is “Far.” Young Thug pops up for his second appearance on this ode to their come-up and friendship. Gunna himself is in awe of just where he’s come:

“I know they ain’t think we’d make it far / We done bought a hundred cars We done fucked a hundred broads Went against the odds / Whole life, was trippin’ hard, now we livin’ large / The whole world wouldn’t have ours, they know who we are.”

Even with all Gunna’s prosperity so far, including a #1 album with WUNNA, there’s always more to achieve, and more avenues to explore, musically or otherwise. This is the type of attitude that we should each carry towards our own lives and careers. Thus, as much success as Gunna may have with WUNNA, we should repeat Gunna’s own words back to him: I wanna see you do better.

In the same way that we might only be able to tell if we’ve flattened the curve in hindsight, we will also have to look back in retrospect to find out if Drake’s already reached the peak of his career. There are arguments to be made about when exactly he reached that point musically. Was it on 2016’s Views?Nothing Was The Same? IYRTITL? Because it certainly wasn’t Scorpion. In the minds of some, Drake will, if he isn’t already, become the cultural and musical archetype of what a rapper can be in the fabric of American culture. He reached pop stardom with hip-hop as the vehicle. That’s not a jab or even an insinuation that Drake’s a culture vulture because, frankly, Drake’s dictated popular culture for the better part of the last 10 years. Lil Wayne, Kanye West, and Jay-Z laid down the foundation for Drake to reach the type of mainstream success that he’s been able to attain. But as Drake reaches a point in his career where he’s broken records, collected plaques, and has dozens of trophies to his name, we’re left wondering what Dark Lane Demo Tapes actually contributes to his illustrious career. 

Entering the 2020s, Drake already had the bragging rights of claiming he has more hits than the Beatles and soon enough, he’ll have either tied or exceeded Madonna for most top 10 singles on the Billboard Hot 100. But what does that truly mean at the end of the day when the music that’s being released is, at best, mid? Drake’s set a bar for himself over the years as both an artist and a brand. A consistent one, at that. His most recent efforts have thrived off of nostalgia. Care Package was exactly that — arriving just days before OVO Fest, he took the year off to celebrate the Toronto Raptors first Championship trophy and to bank off of previously released singles that were only available on YouTube or Soundcloud. And the people ate it up. A compilation album of loose songs sold more records in its first week than the majority of rappers sell in a month. But in an opinion-based sport where album sales and Billboard charts carry more weight than the music itself, Care Package marked Drake’s ninth consecutive number one album on the Billboard 200.

For Drake, it’s effortless. He drops music, the people, including his haters, find something to appreciate about it. Dark Lane Demo Tapes surely has the same effect on people. The “surprise” factor though seems more tactful than the OVO team leads on. Not necessarily because of the three-hour notice we all received, but simply based on the fact that there isn’t another rapper in the game, aside from Jay-Z, who is as calculated as Drake. There’s intention behind every step, every move, every word he raps in his music. So when he mentions that Noel and Oliver put together the project in a matter of days, it feels a little hard to believe. 

“War” closed out an otherwise quiet year from Drake as he dove into a new buzzing sound that had yet to seep into mainstream hip-hop, marking a stylistic shift. Then, he delivered one of the “time-stamp” type joints with the double-hitter of “When To Say When/Chicago Freestyle” that showcased his lyrical weight with nods to both Jay-Z and Eminem. But the loose records and leaks that formed Dark Lane Demo Tapes were lackluster, especially for Drake’s standards. Sure, there are notable moments, but just how memorable are they when a large portion of the project was comprised of leaks? Drake immortalizes pivotal moments of his life with his pen while scoring the soundtrack to ours. But in the wake of a global pandemic that’s claiming thousands of lives, will we look back with glee that, at the very least, we got a new album from Drake? Probably not. In all actuality, it wouldn’t be shocking if “Toosie Slide” triggers PTSD after the global pandemic ends. 

That’s the problem with Dark Lane Demo Tapes, though. Even a song like “Toosie Slide,” that’s essentially been constructed to have the same type of success as “God’s Plan,” isn’t firmly propped up atop the Billboard Hot 100. It’s a hit, and not even French Montana can take that away from him but this week, “Toosie Slide” slid down to number 3 on the charts with Travis Scott and Kid Cudi’s “The Scotts” claiming the top spot and fellow Torontonian The Weeknd’s “Blinding Lights” sitting at #2. Despite everything that has haunted his career from physical confrontations to getting exposed for keeping a ghostwriter on deck, the one thing that truly no other artist could hold against him was his numbers. There isn’t a single one of Drake’s contemporaries — whether in hip-hop or not — who can compete in terms of his Billboard numbers or album sales. “Toosie Slide,” specifically, felt far more contrived than any other Drake song. He’s typically creating the waves, or if he is riding it, it’s before the rest of the world catches up. But Drake is a 33-year-old father — TikTok isn’t supposed to be his main audience unless he recently decided to cater his music to Adonis’ play group. 

If numbers are truly an indication of anything in the rap game, it reflects the public’s general curiosity rather than their approval. However, there’s been a dip in streaming in the past few weeks, in spite of the global pandemic. By the end of March, the U.S. music industry hit a new all-time low in album sales with 1.52M album-equivalent units sold in the week ending on March 19th. Tory Lanez even admitted his “low” sales for New Toronto 3 was due to the decline in music consumption. However, the Drake brand is meant to be pandemic-proof. Solid enough to weather any economic, social or political storm. Dark Lane Tape Demos is expected to move 230K to 255K, but it’s in a tight race for the #1 spot on the Billboard 200 against country star Kenny Chesney’s new album who’s expected to move 220K to 235K– with nearly the entirety of those numbers coming from pure album sales. A country star ending Drake’s streak with nine consecutive #1 wouldn’t be the most unimaginable thing to happen in 2020 but if it were to happen, would that be a sign that Drake’s status as a chart-topping behemoth is beginning to deteriorate? 

With a vault that’s guarded by the precious lives of OVO shooters and engineers, the string of leaks over the past year took part of Drake’s artistic and entrepreneurial control away from him. He had his B-Rabbit moment when he turned weaknesses into strengths by adding “(LEAK 2020)” to the titles of Soundcloud drops. The highly-anticipated release of “Pain 1993” with Playboi Carti, the song that forever found itself surfacing on the web through low-quality recordings and short snippets, fell short of expectations in its final outcome even though the demand was high. Drake gave the people what they wanted. Still, regardless of how Drake plans on identifying this project, collaborations with artists like Young Thug, Future and Chris Brown will still resonate in some fashion with the public, even if it’s based on Spotify algorithms.

The lion’s share of the album is familiar ground for Drake — reminiscing on old flings from Houston, grandiose flexes that only he can relate to etc. Even so, there are flashes where he foreshadows the next move. Songs like “Deep Pockets,” “Landed” and “From Florida With Love” dive into this muddy, foggy whirlwind of production that takes animated derivatives of Soundcloud, lo-fi production while refining it for radio play. Largely due to 40’s trusted ear and Turkish-Swiss producer Oz’s contributions, there’s clearly parts of Drake that’s yearning to tread new grounds. Even on a song like “Landed,” Drake’s flow seemingly takes note from some of the young boys, namely OVO affiliate and possible signee, Smiley, though he’d argue that it was because of his Cartier pen. 

This project ultimately marks a chess move on Drake’s part. Dark Lane Demo Tapes is, after all, an easy money grab. Call me a conspiracy theorist if you will but given Drake’s meticulous nature, Dark Lane Demo Tapes feels like a way to lower expectations ahead of his next album. I mean, even as television production halts and touring plans put on hold, Dark Lane Demo Tapes is likely a means of generating income with B-Sides that demonstrate just how easily he makes a hit record. Quotable bars for days and earworms for hooks that I’ve only grown more fond of as the days pass.

Let’s not forget that the last time he graced fans with a surprise body of work, it was If You’re Reading This It’s Too Late. Shifting the trajectory of Drake’s career and his sound as a whole, it further pushed him closer to the realms of the GOATs. And there’s an argument to be made that the initial response to Views didn’t meet expectations because of how If You’re Reading This was received. Dark Lane Demo Tapes seemingly plots on a reverse effect; delivering mediocrity to hold fans over while safely locking away the gems for his next album.

Pockets of growth are scattered throughout a project that can otherwise be compared to the hip-hop equivalent of NBA Playoff reruns in the COVID-19 era. Drake pushed the boundaries of hip-hop as far as he can and those he’s influenced are still trying to find their foot in the game. Can anyone knock Drake from the top? Maybe not, but that’s with all things considered — he’s taken hip-hop to new heights, for better or for worse. Dark Lane Demo Tapes has a purpose in his catalog, though not in the way that it’s been sold. It moved 100K units within its first four days of its release which is expected of Drake. At the end of the day, the real accomplishment doesn’t necessarily trickle down to numbers. The world evolves, as does the game, and to keep up, one has to adapt. Drake’s done that over the past few years more so than he’s birthed any new style. He’s relied on others to help him accomplish that. The follow-up to Scorpion will ultimately dictate whether Drake remains a musical and cultural powerhouse in the decade to come.

There has been a void in the rap game since Kodak Black was locked up nearly a year ago. Though during his freedom, his actions foreshadowed that trouble was ahead, his official sophomore album Dying To Live was one of his most emotionally potent projects to date. It felt like a rarity to receive a project from an artist that was so deeply entrenched in honesty from an elevated perspective. Kodak was mentally tapping in to another level as if he was observing himself from a third-person perspective. His personal turmoil and anguish was left for the world to see. More or less, it was a compelling explanation of an artist who has been commonly misunderstood. A one-of-one that can’t be replicated.

There’s been added pressure on Sniper Gang’s second-in-command Jackboy ever since Kodak’s incarceration. He’s left to fight the battles that Kodak can not — whether it’s with NBA Youngboy or the “fake industry” as a whole. On his self-titled album, Jackboy preserves Kodak Black’s name in the rap game but more than anything else, he’s establishing himself beyond just being the right-hand man. Jackboy is polished and concise, even for a project with a tracklist that nears 20 songs. 

Before the soulful production hits on the opening track “Pressure,” Kodak Black opens up the project with an encouraging voice memo to Jackboy. “Due to unfortunate circumstances, I gotta watch this shit from the bleachers. But rest assured, you gon’ be the one take ‘em to the Super Bowl. NFL. N***as For Life. Never Forget Loyalty,” Kodak tells Jackboy. That’s just it, though — Jackboy celebrates his biggest project to date, even if his best friend isn’t there to celebrate with him. Kodak Black’s spirit is kept alive through numerous ways, though some are more symbolic than others. It’s evident on things like the intro at the beginning of the project or the collaboration “Like A Million,” but his loyalty to Kodak is also displayed subtly, with the inclusion of “Cleaning Crew” on the tracklist.

There are moments where Kodak Black’s influence is more obvious. The same type of emotional vulnerability that we’ve received from Kodak Black is what Jackboy also tries to convey. With a wider vocal range, Jackboy fills gaps with harmonies to accentuate certain bars through sounds rather than words. The Floridian twang, at times, skewers his annunciation of words, but it’s those exact moments that he’s able to unlock emotions through those melodies. But even then, Jackboy hasn’t been able to tap into the bird’s-eye perspective that Kodak Black has unlocked in his music, at least, not just yet. 

The 17-track project is split into two parts that separate the emotional ballads from the bangers before intertwining both the sounds for the finale. Tracks like “Won’t Understand” explore Jackboy’s uncandid thoughts. Perhaps as an explanation of his character or a defense against online critics, Jackboy roars through chilling keys and lonely vocal samples while viciously contorting his own vocals with anxiety and frustrations. “Can’t Be My Wife” could very well be considered an R&B tune, even with the shaky vocals and ruthless attitude. “I can not give you all my love/ I can not give you all my trust,” he croons over an acoustic instrumental. “Bitch, I’m fed up, just call me when you wanna fuck.” The essence of Heartbreak Kodak, though, lingers on through records like “Love Is War” where JackBoy opens up about heartbreak and loss. 

Jackboy’s yet to achieve the same type of mainstream success as Kodak Black, nor has he necessarily shown any keenness towards taking that route in the first place. JackBoy, however, exhibits a deeper sense of commercial appeal through these melodies and R&B-type records, even if it wasn’t deliberate. The Kodak Black-assisted “Like A Million,” for example, is a celebratory record with Tay Keith on a beat that cues the beginning of an onslaught of bangers. Casanova, Blac Youngsta and Warhol.ss make appearances throughout the second half of the tracklist, as well. “Still” with Blac Youngsta sounds like the perfect entry music into the club with the bass-thumping. JackBoy talks his sh*t with no remorse. “You a opp, still f*ck yo b*tch/ Why not? After what you did,” Jackboy taunts. Jackboy’s flow is on burst-fire mode but Blac Youngsta contrasts this with a cool, calm, and collected delivery. With cold-hearted vengeance,  Youngsta’s voice sounds as if he recorded his verse immediately after spinning the block. “Freak” ft. Warhol.ss could easily be poised for radio play, or at the very least TikTok virality. The production was fitting for a Lil Uzi Vert or a Playboi Carti feature which could’ve propelled this song further into the worlds of social media dance challenges. 

Capitalizing off of a viral feud with the release of an album doesn’t always work out. Sometimes the antics overshadow the art. Jackboy, however, catapulted off of the beef with NBA Youngboy only to outshine the drama. Kodak’s spirit is scattered throughout the project because, well, that’s what you’re supposed to do when your man is locked up. But more than that, Jackboy cements his voice in the soundscape of Florida’s rap scene.

Westside Gunn’s vision as a curator has been widely regarded as second-to-none. It’s part of the reason why Griselda has somehow managed to blur the lines between midnight street violence and high-fashion luxury. Few have built such an impeccable brand. Simply put, it’s become increasingly easy for a wide variety of demographics to like the idea of Westside Gunn. An underdog story manifested with tangible results, the most recent milestone being an inspirational front-row seat at Paris Fashion Week.

Even though his brand of rap has become relatively niche in the contemporary soundscape, Gunn has managed to make it feel particularly wavy — though it often seems like the music itself is seldom thoroughly analyzed, given how appealing he is as an orchestrator. While it doesn’t ultimately matter why one might gravitate toward Westside Gunn, examining Pray For Paris on the basis of its musical merit alone reveals an artist at the height of his craft, exuding confidence, character, and creativity. And that’s not even shining a spotlight on the ad-libs, arguably Gunn’s most recognizable vocalistic component.

Pray For Paris features Westside Gunn’s most inspired rhyming to date. He’s previously suggested that Conway and Benny’s pedigree outweighs his own, though it would be unwise to underestimate Westside’s ability on the mic. His biggest strength lies in his ability to bring his world to life through use of slang and strategic non-sequiturs. His lyrics often rattle off in stream-of-consciousness fashion, tethering the layman to his reality through one or two recognizable images. “Rest in peace Vino, rest in peace Kino, the Spiegel, the seagulls, April fresh ego,” he raps on the DJ Muggs-produced “No Vacancy.” “Slam you on your neck like Bruno Sammartino.” The themes of luxurious violence unfold like red wine slowly seeping through a white carpet. “Welcome home Tito, you proud and sippin’ pinot,” he concludes. “My shooter shot five n****s in a row, we yell ‘bingo.’”

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Though he laments the idea of being pigeonholed as a rapper, it would be a shame to overlook Gunn’s effortless dominance as an emcee. Moreso than ever before he’s taking stylistic risks, exhibiting a newfound dexterity in his delivery. On “George Bondo,” produced by the in-house tandem of Beat Butcha and Daringer, Westside rhymes ably alongside Conway The Machine and Benny The Butcher, two rappers who easily tower over the average modern-day lyricist. Even amidst such company Gunn never falters, as he effortlessly weaves violent short stories into his stanzas. “You ever sold a hundred then spent it all in the same weekend?” he asks, firing off syllables in one of the album’s quicker schemes. “Razors leave your face leakin’ / Chill, let the Wraith creep, and the brick broke in eight pieces.” A writer with less imagination might have pulled back on the specificity; we can almost hear the skull cracking as the clay scatters atop the pavement. 

At this point, it almost feels redundant to praise Gunn’s curatorial abilities. He’s been murderous in that department for years — only now, following a slew of widely-publicized co-signs from Eminem, Jay-Z, Kanye West, and Virgil Abloh (signer of bricks), the volume of curious eyes has multiplied. But Pray For Paris would not be the success that it is on the strength of vision alone. Only a gifted emcee possesses the potential to maximize the masterful production from Alchemist, Daringer, DJ Premier, Beat Butcha, and DJ Muggs. If the instrumentals are the paint itself, Gunn’s is the practiced hand guiding the paintbrush. His ability to go bar for bar with elite emcees is all too often treated as an afterthought. Yet he does so time and time again, whether alongside his own Griselda compatriots on two standout cuts, the Freddie Gibbs and Roc Marciano assisted “$500 Ounces,” and the smooth posse cut “327” with Tyler, The Creator and Joey Bada$$.

Stylistically cut from the same cloth as Ghostface Killah and Raekwon The Chef, Gunn’s approach to cocaine rap and violent retribution is seldom pretty, a stark juxtaposition against his affinity for haute couture and high-priced memorabilia. His ability to simultaneously — and credibly — operate within two seemingly disparate planes of existence makes him a unique sort of narrator. One that enjoys the nature of the opulent flex but never allows it to tarnish his dedication to crafting raw hip-hop. Pray For Paris is very much a love letter to the craft, penned and signed entirely on a brick. The rare sort of art that a sincere knowledge of history can only enhance. 

Heaven and hell are at the core, religious concepts. The idea of Heaven is synonymous with being a do-gooder. If you abide by the rules of Christianity, you will make your way to heaven. On the flip side of that, hell is reserved for those who do bad. It’s a black and white duality that people still live their lives by, to this day. Depending on your definitions of good and evil, heaven and hell can mean a multitude of different things. On Don Toliver’s debut album, Heaven Or Hell, the Houston crooner attempts to show us that Hell is just a symptom of success. A necessary evil that must be explored on a man’s journey to self-realization.

The album begins with what feels like a Rodeo-era track that makes Toliver’s debut sound Travis Scott-esque. In fact, you’ll come to notice that Scott’s sound is littered throughout the project. The intro, “Heaven Or Hell,” features a brooding and haunting instrumental with plenty of sinister synths. Meanwhile, Toliver provides vocals that showcase both his trademark pitched-up delivery and a lower register he’s not usually known for. On this track, Toliver is talking about the duality of success and how it could lead him towards two different paths. He could either become the sinner or the one who does good. As he sings “I wanna smoke some,” it becomes clear that Toliver is looking to enjoy the fruits of his labor in ways that can be destructive. Of course, we’re talking about drugs, women, excessive spending, and various other vices.

These themes are present throughout the full 12-song tracklist. The aforementioned “Can’t Feel My Legs” is a solid example of this as the Houston crooner sings about Xanax and trying to woo women from his city. Tracks like “After Party,” “Spaceship,” and “Wasted” all follow the same thematic structure except they are all presented in unique ways that keep the listener engaged all the way throughout. These three songs all provide a different vibe that showcases Toliver’s range as a vocal performer. “After Party” is more focused on uptempo, high-pitched melodies while “Spaceship” is yet another example of Travis Scott’s influence shining through. These tracks demonstrate an improvement in regards to Toliver’s songwriting compared to 2018’s Donny Womack. Toliver substitutes his incessant need for repeating hooks with bridges, more verses, and vocal harmonies that add flavor to each song.

Perhaps the highlight of the entire record is the sixth track, “Candy.” With help from producers WondaGurl and CA$HPASSION, Toliver provides listeners with an auditory experience that could be chalked up to a trap version of Fear And Loathing In Las Vegas. Toliver repeats the lyrics “Candy couldn’t be so sweet” before delving into a refrain in which he talks about “living a lie” and how he is trying to save someone’s love. It’s as if Toliver is pleading with a woman for her love and forgiveness, except he is too drugged out of his mind to really make a substantial case for himself. As the song dies down, we are met with a gorgeous guitar solo interlude that leads into some extended notes that sound like they are being put through a feedback loop. This is when Toliver changes up his delivery and begins to sing in more of an r&b cadence. He sings “I can’t take it anymore” and “you’re so demanding.” It’s clear that he has given up.

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The angelic nature of “Candy” offers a reprieve from all of the moody beats that come before it. In the context of the album, it feels like this is the first time Toliver is trying to explore the heavenly side of his life. Instrumentally this is apparent but lyrically, his sad and lonely content completely contradicts the tone of the song. This juxtaposition creates a feeling that Toliver is failing to juggle his desire for doing good and his need to do bad. Simply put, Heaven Or Hell is the story of an artist being completely consumed by their own success.

Comparisons to Travis Scott’s Rodeo are unavoidable here. Rodeo had the same loose concept and just like his mentor, Toliver fails at going above the surface level. While the songwriting provides for catchy hooks and memorable melodies, the Houston artist leaves a bit too much to the imagination. Equally, whenever Toliver abandons his signature high-pitch delivery, he begins to sound a lot like La Flame to the point where you think it’s actually Scott singing. This is a pitfall you don’t want to succumb to on your debut album.

On a more positive note, Heaven Or Hell is a massive improvement over Toliver’s 2018 project Donny Womack. This tape was released a day before Astroworld as a way to serve fans who discovered him after hearing his uncredited appearance on “Can’t Say.” Donny Womack saw Toliver struggling to write verses. He would mostly repeat the same sticky hooks over and over again. While these hooks were memorable and fun, there was still room for amelioration. With Heaven Or Hell, Toliver strikes a balance between catchiness and musicality. The songs and ideas are more fleshed out and ultimately prove that Toliver has figured out his framework. He’s still finding his footing, but with Travis Scott as his mentor, there is still a lot to be excited for.

To truly be a leader, you need to be prepared to live and die by your own decisions. Never one to struggle with a deficit of self-belief, Rich The Kid has continually refused to let his destiny be determined by anyone other than himself. Initially teased when he detailed its guest stars in late February, the rollout for the Queens-born, Georgia-based MC was in full swing with his stock showing no signs of depleting.

Then, from out of nowhere, the long-gestating Eternal Atakeand its deluxe counterpart arrived and commandeered the audience’s attention, Courting the lion’s share of streams over the past fortnight, Lil Uzi’s cultural pull quite clear based on the effect that his project had on other album sales. In light of this, lesser artists may have rescheduled to ensure that their projects wouldn’t be overshadowed by Rich’s former foe’s near-mythical space exploration. However, harnessing the self-assurance of a business-savvy MC, Rich opted to dispense with fears of being eclipse and focused on his own affairs with Boss Man.

Between the Uzi-shaped diversion and the complacency that comes with getting accustomed to an artist’s presence, Rich The Kid’s latest doesn’t have the same momentous sense of occasion that his first two projects had prior to dropping. But that doesn’t mean there aren’t gems to be extracted on his new album and it’d be a disservice to let them fly under the radar. If anything, Boss Man is the sound of a rapper that’s getting acclimated to the longevity that he’s all but secured in this industry, both behind-the-scenes and as a purveyor of slick, commercially-attuned hip-hop.

Besides his own merits, Rich’s projects have been always been resplendent in two things. A who’s-who of guest stars and an enble assortment of beats that’d suggest producers relinquish their hard drives and give him first dibs. Thankfully, it takes little more than 5 minutes to prove that framework is still rooted in place

Starting off tenderly before he lays out what separates the average man from a self-sufficient kingpin, Rich puts his best foot forward on “Far From You.” Emoting with every syllable, it’s an interesting opener considering it’s more of an anomaly than a sign of things to come. Where an artist such as Thugger keeps adding abstract vocal inflections to his repertoire as the years tick by, Rich seems to be shedding some of the eccentricities in his delivery that made his verses pop on previous projects. Yet where he’s nullified some of his rougher edges, Rich’s ability to tailor his delivery to any beat rarely falters.

Switching up his flow as and when required, DaBaby returns the favour for Rich’s appearance on “Best Friend” with the hazy “Sick.” Bestowed with a relentlessly catchy beat and lines such as “I just left the doctor and I’m still sick,” don’t be surprised if it’s co-opted by TikTok while the world grapples with COVID-19. On the pulsating “Not Sorry,” Nicki Minaj’s appearance is the definition of short but sweet. This tends to be a recurring theme throughout the album, with many tracks landing within a fleeting runtime of 2 minutes or under.

For the most part, upholding his status as a hip-hop entrepreneur is the adhesive that glues the album together, rearing its head in the authoritative, Lil Tjay-featuring  “Depend On Me” before he discusses buying his grandma a ring that “cost a whole key” to reimburse her for court fees on the reflective “Ain’t No Doubts.” Elsewhere, he continues this theme on the slow burn of “No Loyalty,” acting as the benevolent don that looks after his kin and forsakes all others.

Although there are moments where he seems to be striving for compliance as opposed to breaking new ground, audiences are reminded of the vividness with which he can bring a theme to life on “Red” as he yelps “red cup, she got Henny, I got red stuff, first class on redeye, she pullin’ up.”

From peers to proteges, Rich’s aptitude for playing well with others comes in handy across Boss Man. Over an entrancing beat crafted by the megastar himself, the shared energy that Post Malone and Rich exude on “V12” would suggest that there’s plenty to be harvested from further studio sessions. About as acquainted as two MCs can get, Rich and Quavo tap into their usual delegation of labour as they discuss life’s trials and tribulations on “That’s Tuff” while hook-ups with NBA Youngboy on sure-fire smash “Racks On” and the previously released “Money Talk” prove that their rumoured collaborative project would be a goldmine of boisterous, cash-oriented hits. 

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Amid serenading the object of his desires on “You,” Rich sets composure entirely to one side on “Over With.” Built around thoughtful production that wouldn’t have been out of place on A Death Race For Love, Rich’s cries of being “addicted to your love, can’t get enough of it, if you leave me, I’ma need a first aid kit” displays a vulnerability that it’d be interesting to see him explore further on Boss Man’s forthcoming sequel.

Rather than concern himself with outward perceptions, Boss Man is the sound of a man that’s embracing the sturdy foothold that he’s fashioned in the modern game. Where’s he’s implored audiences that The World Is Yours across previous projects, Boss Man sees him depict the values and enble lifestyle that drives him to keep his own personal and professional universe intact. Although there are moments that err towards familiarity, the intention of this project registers loud and clear. Surveying his self-made kingdom, Boss Man is a jubilant victory lap that sees him toying with new sounds and textures while sticking to the business plan that’s made his empire. Now, the stage is set for Rich to unveil the most personal and, probably, most important project to date.

The 2019 breakout year of Megan Thee Stallion introduced hip-hop’s latest star with a promising career ahead of her. Without an actual debut album to her name, she set the industry ablaze with her bossed up promiscuous lyrics that celebrated sexual liberation and broke gender stereotypes. Everything about 2020 was set up to be her official year. With a debut album set to release, all signs pointed to the Hot Girl Summer extending into the new decade. Label issues, however, have prevented this from happening as imminently as many hoped for. Meg filed a lawsuit against her label last week after claiming they were holding her back from releasing new music. Even as contractual disputes persist, a judge granted Meg a TRO against her label to prevent them from stopping her from dropping new music. This resulted in the release of SUGA — Meg’s latest body of work which was rushed out onto streaming services while Carl Crawford attempted to go to grave lengths to stop this from happening. But in a year that was equally trying and triumphant, SUGA is an assertion of Meg’s boss status as a rapper and a cultural figure who continues to set herself apart from the pack of rappers, both male and female, that are emerging at a rapid pace.

Megan Thee Stallion, as an entertainer and personality, has continued to exude radiant charisma and confidence on her social media platforms, performances, and general appearances, even as she maintains a strong sense of humility. But SUGA is the introduction to a new personality — one that she’s described as a “sensitive gangsta” that highlights the imperfections of the everyday soul. “Social media got everybody striving for perfection and I’m not gon’ lie – I’m not perfect. I didn’t say I was,” she explained on Power 106 Los Angeles in late January. “I got a whole bunch of stuff going on every day. I’m going through it, but I’m getting through it. So, that’s where Suga is coming from.”

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“Ain’t Equal,” the first song on the project, is a declaration of her continuous reign, reflecting back on the losses of the past year and the moments of triumph she’s basked in. “Aye, I lost my mommy and my granny in the same month/ A bunch of bitches hatin’ ‘cause I’m comin’ up,” she viciously raps over Helluva’s icy production with a flow as sturdy as her knees. “Okay, let’s talk about it, no petty shit/ Let’s keep that shit a bill/ It’s a difference in the bitch who rap and the bitch who rap for real,” she continues as she applies pressure on the necks of doubters, naysayers, and imitators who’ve downplayed her success. But the pettiness of Instagram comments aside, there are still moments where she strikes back at the very label executive she’s in the midst of a legal battle against. “Bitch, I been poppin’, doin’ numbers, been lit/ And since the n***a think he made me, tell him do it again.”

The aggressiveness doesn’t necessarily carry on throughout the project at the same level of intensity. “Savage,” for instance, has Megan declaring herself the “Hood Mona Lisa” effortlessly over deep house-like chords while “Captain Hook” is the quintessential sex-posi banger that’s already inspired a new viral challenge. Showered with co-signs over the past year, the major name feature still wasn’t needed on Suga. Even with the collaborations on the project, Meg’s still driving the boat. The Kehlani-assisted “Hit My Phone” digs deeper into Meg’s R&B influences with tinges of funk and soul as she finds a pocket of G-Funk that will likely find itself on every major Spotify playlist. Even the Gunna-assisted and Neptunes-produced “Playing With Me” turns her auto-tuned melodies into a deeper foray into the world of pop music without losing her edge.

Suga is surely a project to hold fans over until the smoke settles and she’s ready to release her official debut album. Meg is overall a star that’s just beginning to fulfill her potential. Fever became a glimpse of her greatness but it’s Suga that proves that she’s just beginning to unlock her full potential. Meg proves that the momentum from “Hot Girl Summer” hasn’t died down. However, with her ongoing label dispute, the short nine-track project might only be able to buy her a certain amount of time until fans grow impatient for her formal debut album. 

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Anyways isn’t one of those projects that leaves the featured artists unlisted in order to preserve an element of surprise. Young Nudy flies solo for 16 tracks – for 58 minutes. He is a self-sustaining ecosystem. If you peruse his discography, you will see that Nudy often opts to take matters into his own hands. An internal furnace supplies him with enough steam to send him bouncing off the walls until the beat stops playing. He can play this game for the duration of a full LP without tiring and we can observe without losing any interest. 

The lead single for Anyways, “No Go,” showed Nudy spinning himself into a frenzy. It’s almost a disorienting experience. The sense that he’s outpacing his listeners, or his opponents, doesn’t just stem from his sputtering delivery. His masterful use of ad-libs generates the illusion that he’s attacking from all angles. He forms a one-man choir – repeating words, offering responses, erupting with cartoonish noises. These sorts of echoes are by no means unique to Nudy. We know they’re pervasive in the Atlanta trap scene, but Nudy’s aren’t neatly placed. On “Deeper Than Rap,” his raps and his ad-libs border on discordant. They clash awkwardly, but in Nudy’s case, that’s where the magic lies. When he interrupts himself and creates these explosive layers of sound, the intoxicating mania of his music is heightened. “Deeper Than Rap” is Nudy unfastening himself from the beat and fleeing anything that tries to contain him.  

While these conversations with himself are what make it seem like he’s endlessly feeding off his own energy, the moments when he derives inspiration from external sources shouldn’t be overlooked. Nudy’s exhilarating when unhinged, but his eccentric beat selection tends to pull him into new territory. 20Rocket – who has production credits on six of Anyways’ tracks – furnishes Nudy with the tinny tip-toeing of “No Comprende.” It impels Nudy to tackle it with a more restrained and choppy flow, which offers a welcome reprieve from the breathless vortexes that consume much of the project. He also remains tethered to the instrumental on “I Won’t Flex,” where he wheezes his bars to mimic the flashes of a synth. 

When he isn’t tailoring his delivery to the beat, his vocals can reflect his intended message. “A Nudy Story” is when the rapper sheds all the boasts and the threats to finally provide some background on what hardened him. Amidst divulging of family drama and other trauma, he croons on the hook in a cadence that evokes both resignation and hope. “Burnin’ demon in a Demon, I ain’t say that I was perfect / God done blessed me with this money, I guess He feel like I was worth it.” “A Nudy Story” is the only digression from his usual themes. Even on the closing track “Do It With The…”, whose wistful atmosphere sounds conducive to an introspective journey, Nudy resorts to discussing money and murder. 

Considering how long Nudy has been a respected figure in Atlanta’s underground, every new release from him begs the question of whether he is on the verge of a breakout. Slim’erre, the collaborative project he put out with Pi’erre Bourne last year definitely brought more attention his way, boosted by high-profile guests and Pi’erre’s affiliation with Playboi Carti. However, there’s no need for us to speculate about potential hits on Anyways when that doesn’t even seem to be Nudy’s main concern. He’s still entrenched in the streets. If there’s any overarching takeaway from Anyways, it’s that Nudy’s bullshit detector is infallible. As he bellows on “No Comprende,” “I could smell it from a mile away, you work with them cops.” If Young Nudy continues to keep it real and keep the right people around him, he’ll be just fine. 

It has been said that the Big Apple isn’t for everyone. The city’s arteries breed a certain type of hardened individual. Those who are lightning struck and stride through the treacherous desert of quicksand before somehow reaching a real-life utopia revel in navigating the congo of concrete. Never will they let you forget from where they originated. As the theme to Power reminds: “I gotta make it.” Like Ghost, Boogie’s goal is to be the King of New York. But in his own eyes, he’s both there and not quite there.

His ambition is clearly declared on “King of My City,” stating: “I be feeling like the king of my city, from the Bronx, not Benny.” Here, Boogie uses an analogy of the character Benny Blanco from the 1993 film Carlito’s Way to say he’s no fraud or imposter, but rather the real thing. The 24-year-old might not be ready to boast on it but he’s climbed a long way up that steep metro-mountain. Perhaps the young phenom is finding himself. In “Might Not Give Up” Boogie refers to himself living a “rockstar lifestyle” and says he’s “nothing like a rapper, he’s an artist.” The guitar solo introduces “DTB 4 Life” sounding like something from Nirvana’s early 90s catalog. Yet Boogie’s voice and delivery feel natural. It seems as though we’re trending towards more genreless music and artists transcending labels.

The album’s name reflects his intentions of eclipsing the rapper label. This has been the sentiment of several emcees in the last decade — not wanting to be limited to rap in the traditional sense. Longing to be cradled as artists first. His style is engineered to manufacture hit records. A monster on the hook. An anthem maker. An expedition through risky yet harmonic sound elements. He has discovered a formula of catchy choruses, melodic arrangements, and guitar-driven production while emphasizing the braggadocious style that New York rap is famous for. His versatility has earned him equity in the music game. Boogie has listed Kanye West among his many inspirations, a claim reflected in the diversity of his fanbase. He plays to this base merging modern rock, R&B, and hip-hop. In his own brand of street gospel, Boogie effortlessly melds brutally blunt messaging on fast life over the undone pavements of Gotham. Breaking the mold shaped by New York’s rappers of the past and a few of the present, Boogie flaunts a style all his own, his bravos on full display.

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No matter how melancholic his sound appears, A Boogie stays true to the central message of overcoming adversity and triumph over circumstances – in his case surviving the disenfranchisement of urban life. The lack of hope in paths that did not include music, insinuating if not for a life of creativity he fears what may have become. He addresses tragedy and quests for love once foiled, a modern-day lyricist tight-roping the line between singer and rapper in the ultimate balancing act. Boogie strands himself in the cables thousands of feet in the air. His confidence allows him to do backflips on that rope. Unbothered and unrequited. Singing his heart out on “Thug Love” and getting introspective on “Me and My Guitar.”

The album has some high-profile and well-placed features: Young Thug, Lil Uzi Vert, DaBaby. Although the songs with Boogie by himself may be more enjoyable, the overall production and curation hit the mark on a majority of the project. Boogie welcomes artists of the same undefinable ilk in Roddy Rich and Gunna yet blends seamlessly with the likes of refined vocalists Summer Walker and Khalid. The most satisfying and stimulating selections on the presentation are “Blood On My Denim” & “Right Back.” Boogie pairs astonishingly, yet blissfully with Lil Uzi on “Luv Is Art.” However, several songs on the album do lack cohesion and come off half-baked. It feels bloated at times and smells like a chart chase. Really no reason for this to be an hour long. There are a few skippable tracks that should’ve never made it out of the editing room. He doesn’t dete enough from song to song to justify this. It can feel like he’s alternating between the same two shells over and over. 

Is A Boogie adopting a more mainstream sound or simply expanding his creative bandwidth to manage the influx of new experiences and influences that inevitably come with success? He does not come without his limitations. Not much lyricism. The need to more thoroughly clean up his track selection. I feel there may still be untapped potential which will only come with experience and time. Hopefully, the ambitious creative cross-section merges and we get a classic album. That and only that will jet him into the NYC pedestal. Overall, Artist 2.0 finds him reaching for the throne but mostly coming up with air. Be that as it may, the highs still undoubtedly overshadow the lows and make for a concentrated listening experience. 

Inarguably one of the most popular artists on the face of the planet, Texas-raised Post Malone has been thriving for the last five years, enjoying commercial success with each release since 2016’s Stoney. Starting off in the somewhat-dreaded SoundCloud rap lane, Post Malone made his way out of that box with consistency, charm, and a wide-ranging appeal. After Stoney, Malone had fans in the hip-hop and pop crowds twiddling their thumbs as they waited for his eventual follow-up, the critically-acclaimed beerbongs & bentleys, which remains a streaming favorite to this day. The singer/rapper made history another time with his third studio album Hollywood’s Bleeding last year, leading to a multi-nation sold-out arena tour that impacted Montreal, Canada’s Bell Center on Sunday, February 16.

Upon arriving at the arena, which holds over 21,000 fans on any given day, Post Malone’s panoramic following was made clear from the jump. Humans of all ages, genders, and backgrounds were waiting in line to enter the packed building. Whether you were in the general admission pit, one of the seated sections, or in a box view getting VIP service, you were forced to wait outside with thousands of others before making your way into your designated entrance. 

With his radio appeal, a multitude of generations was present to watch the rapper, who was last in the city for Osheaga Festival in 2018. A band of supporting acts, including Tyla Yaweh and Swae Lee of Rae Sremmurd fame, opened up for the diamond-certified artist, complementing his sound and bringing similar amounts of energy to their sets. I, unfortunately, was stuck in a media security room during the entirety of Yaweh’s set but several attendees raved about his song selection, his stage presence, and his overall dedication to artistry.

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Given the number of times they’ve collaborated in the past, striking on songs like “Sunflower” and “Spoil My Night,” Swae Lee was the perfect addition to this tour. When he’s touring with his brother Slim Jxmmi as the duo Rae Sremmurd, party vibes dictate their set, but last night at the Bell Center, Swae was more emotional than ever before. He seemed to stray ever-so-slightly from his “No Flex Zone” past to focus on his softer offerings, including “Guatemala” and his celebrated section of “Unforgettable.” 

The 26-year-old songwriter got personal with his fans, recalling one girl from his meet-and-greet earlier that night before noticing her in the crowd, inviting her onto the stage, and serenading her with her favorite song. He even debuted some unreleased music before flashing his phone number on the mega-tron, encouraging fans to shoot him a text message for additional release information. The words “Human Nature” appeared on the screen before Swae exited the stage, perhaps offering an early look into his next solo drop, which meant only one more performer was slated to entertain the crowd: the incomparable Post Malone.

Much of Post Malone’s appeal comes from his universal likeability. Post Malone occupies an extremely unique role in the world of hip-hop. At first, he was not fully accepted as the total package in rap but, after proving himself as a veritable hitmaker, the hip-hop community has had no choice but to accept him. His face is filled with tattoos, he drinks a shit-ton of Bud Light, and his smile lights up a room filled with over 20,000 people. The man’s presence is unlike any other artist I’ve witnessed in a live setting.

Rocking a shirt that included a woman’s picture and the words “She belongs to the streets,” Post Malone came out to a boisterous Montreal welcome, performing a myriad of head-bopping tunes from his three ultra-popular albums. 

“I’m here to sing you some shitty songs and get fucked up,” said the 24-year-old artist before admitting that, prior to getting on stage, he had played a few rounds of beer pong with his boys. It’s that transparency and relatability that keeps fans coming back for future Post Malone releases.

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Post was active throughout much of the show, taking a breather only to perform a few slower cuts from Stoney and b&b. Even then, you could tell that he was giving it his all for the thousands in attendance. His face dripped with sweat after belting out fifteen-straight bangers, burning off all of those beer-pong calories quickly. As the energy began to reach a peak, Swae Lee returned to the stage with a bouquet of sunflowers to tease their joint collaboration comparing the human soul to the delicate flora, handing out stems to front-row attendees. The two have incredible chemistry, which clearly transcends the studio. While they obviously have the ability to make some of the catchiest songs of the last decade, their friendship is what became most clear from their interactions on stage, enjoying a warm embrace before Posty finished the remainder of his tracklist. 

Above all else, the Runaway Tour proves Malone’s status as rap’s resident rock star. Before closing his set with “Congratulations,” Posty performed a 21 Savage-less version of his hit record “rockstar.” An extended instrumental break allowed the star to run to the backstage area to grab the guitar he so passionately strummed on minutes earlier to an acoustic version of “Stay,” before smashing it to shreds and pouring a can of Bud Light into the wreckage. Would you expect anything less from Post?

This isn’t a typical rap show, but that much should already be clear when considering purchasing tickets to a Post Malone concert. The man refuses to be boxed into a single genre, adapting elements of hip-hop, pop, rock, and even country in his music. If you’re attending a future leg of the Runaway Tour, be prepared to encounter an emotive new experience. 

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