Young Thug is a very strange man. This is a fact lost on neither longtime fans nor casual observers. In fact, anyone who has never listened to his music but has seen clips of his interviews or caught a glimpse of his Twitter can attest to this. For this reason, it comes as no surprise that he interrupts the first song on the album with absolute nonsense. “Die Slow” is a heartfelt guitar ballad that touches on themes of division and broken relationships such as the intersection of violence and heartbreak displayed by his parents when he was a child, as well as racism dividing the country. However, Thug stops the song halfway through to tell a story that cannot help but baffle the listener. Thug states “The lady had got in the car and just pulled off doing at, like, sixty miles per hour, ran my mom over. She had a stroke and shit, but she alright. Yeah. I always knew I wasn’t gon’ be gay.” Without skipping a beat, the song reverts back to its serious subject matter and does not touch on the bizarre interlude again.

The following song, “Stressed (With J. Cole & T-Shyne),” begins with another beautiful guitar melody and an emotional verse from Thug. Thug’s heartfelt opening sets high expectations for the rest of the track, which are immediately dashed by J. Cole’s trash verse. Accompanied by jarring hi-hats, Cole jumps in claiming to be “gat toting” and “pistol holding,” a reference to the legendary opening verse on “Knuck if You Buck” by Crime Mob. J. Cole, however, is a wealthy, married, 36-year-old man and comes off as pathetic and out of touch with his constant allusions to a violent lifestyle that he simply does not live. J. Cole also attempts to make some vague point about the importance of money in his life as he has “a wife… a baby to feed… a mama to spoil… a brother… Medical bills, credit to fix.” etc., but I feel more sympathy for Young Thug’s mother being run over by the imaginary car than I do for J. Cole whining about his expenses. New YSL signee T-Shyne follows Cole and provides a solid verse that shows a lot of promise as well.

The following song, “Stupid/Asking,” however, is an incredible return to the vibe presented in “Die Slow” and a definite high point of the album. The first part of the track is a heavenly guitar instrumental produced by Metro Boomin which compliments Thug’s repeated “Is you stupid?” refrain so well. The quiet, muted 808s behind the strings provide rhythm without overwhelming the guitar which allows Thug’s singing to take center stage. He croons from the perspective of a spurned lover questioning his ridiculous decision-making over the course of their relationship. The first half of this song is an introspective inversion of Thug’s typical celebration of excess and lust and transitions beautifully into the second half produced by Taurus, Crater, and Yo Benji.

The following two songs, “Recognize Real (with Gunna)” and “Contagious” continue the high standard set by the opening few tracks. Gunna’s verse and hook on “Recognize Real” just cement his role as the unstoppable feature cheat code and his chemistry with Thug is as palpable as ever. Future’s hook on “Peepin Out The Window (with Future and Bslime)” is also quite catchy. Young Thug’s nephew, Bslime, provided a solid enough verse though it is unclear which specific rib shack he is referencing when he raps “chillin’ at the rib shack.” A quick google search for ‘rib shack Atlanta’ will reveal a variety of options including Fat Matt’s, Shane’s, and JJ’s to name but a few.

After this point the album begins to decline in quality as some songs like “Insure My Wrist (with Gunna)” and “Scoliosis (with Lil Double O)” do not stand out as that interesting or unique. “Livin It Up (with Post Malone & A$AP Rocky),” however, is a very nice change of pace and breaks up the more introspective and melodic tracks with a fresh pop hit. “Bubbly (with Drake & Travis Scott)” is a more fast-paced banger than any of the previous songs, and while it does not totally fit the flow of the album, it is not bad. The song is just slightly boring and the Drake feature in conjunction with Travis Scott’s Squid Game reference manage to make it the corniest track on an album that has a J. Cole feature; a very impressive feat.

“Road Rage,” “Faces,” and “Fifth Day Dead” are all solid tracks on this late-middle portion of the album, and while none stand out particularly well, they are all worth listening to. The album really picks itself up with “Love You More (with Nate Ruess, Gunna, & Jeff Bhasker).” Not only do the rising piano production and the slightly reverbed Nate Ruess chorus compliment each other perfectly, but the ad libs and Gunna’s background vocals just fit so well. It’s a great break from the sameness of the previous five or six tracks and is more in line with the sound that fans may have expected from 

 following Thug’s Tiny Desk concert some weeks back. The next song, “Hate The Game,” was previewed by Thug on Instagram back in April and instantly became my most anticipated track. The full version does not disappoint and like “Love You More” it does an incredible job of rejuvenating the previously staggering album. It’s catchy, funny, upbeat, and an instantly classic Thugger song.

 is an album with some genuinely amazing ideas, unique sounds, experimentation, introspection, and fun, but it is held back by a bloated track length and a few poor features. The best songs on this album are incredible, but the worst feel like B-Sides from April’s 

. It’s hard to say there is a bad song here, as Thug is clearly a master of his craft, but some are clearly more developed and interesting than others.


Young Thug shows off his weird side on "Punk"

The phrase “don’t judge a book by its cover” is widely believed to have been first published in Mary Ann Evans’ 1860 novel 

. Ms. Evans evidently failed to predict the release of 

by Rich The Kid and Lil Wayne, however. For if she had caught even the slightest glimpse of this album art which depicts cartoon versions of both rappers wearing diapers she would have, in all likelihood, torn up her manuscript and ended her writing career on the spot. That being said, I would like to close this brief introduction with a point that may at first appear to contradict all I have just expressed. It is the perfect album cover for this project as it forces one to sit back and wonder “Why was this made? Who is this for?” Both questions I found myself repeating throughout.

It is no secret that Rich The Kid and Lil Wayne are at two wholly different points in their artistic careers, a fact that makes this team-up surprising from a musical perspective. But, it makes perfect sense behind the scenes. Rich The Kid seems like a good-natured enough fellow, not to mention the massive interest both he and Lil Wayne have demonstrated in skating and skate culture and the impressive sum of money his label is willing to shill in a desperate attempt to regain his relevance. This project had so much potential to be a fun, strange, fresh body of work produced by two people who genuinely enjoy each other’s company, but there is absolutely no chemistry between Lil Wayne and Rich The Kid present whatsoever.

That being said, the first two songs on the album are actually quite good and set a very strong precedent that the rest of the album struggles to follow up on. “Feelin’ Like Tunechi” sees Rich The Kid and Lil Wayne trading verses with some clever punchlines and an incredibly infectious hook. On this track Lil Wayne announces that he is “feelin’ like Rich The Kid” which is a sobering portent for what is to follow in the remaining 9 songs. “Headlock” begins with a classic, wordy Lil Wayne verse in acapella that feeds into ominous strings followed by light hi-hats courtesy of Brian White, JulianBeatz & LunchMoney Lewis. The peculiar production, lighthearted tone, and fun verses from both artists make this a definite high-water mark for the project to follow.

The next song, “Trust Fund,” is boring and uninspired, but is saved by the fact that Rich The Kid’s verse is unintentionally hilarious. He raps “you was tryna get a deal, I told him ‘Sign to Me.’” Here Rich The Kid is encouraging artists to sign to his ‘Rich Forever’ label, a notoriously and historically despised organization. Nearly every single major artist who has ever signed to Rich Forever has either left or attempted to leave including Famous Dex, J$tash, and YBN Almighty Jay. Rich The Kid also famously attempted to sign Lil Uzi to Rich Forever, an altercation which spiraled into their prolonged and very public beef.

It is hard to say that this project overstays its welcome as it is only 28 minutes and none of the 10 songs are even bad per se, but it just does not feel organic in its execution. There are some other standout points, like Lil Wayne’s verse at the end of “Big Boss” which features a very captivating rhyme scheme in an otherwise uneventful song. But tracks like “Yeah Yeah” are so bland that they cancel out special moments like this. Lil Wayne and Rich The Kid simply lack the chemistry to keep this project exciting throughout, and apart from a singular lackluster guest verse from YG on “Buzzin,” there is little to break up the sameness. These two did not create a bad project by any means, but I can’t help but feel it failed to live up to its potential.


Lil Wayne and Rich The Kid show a disappointing lack of chemistry on "Trust Fund Babies"

, the debut album by Ghanian-Australian artist Genesis Owusu, is an incredibly striking first showing. The depth and clarity of this project comes as a complete shock, not because Owusu’s previous work wasn’t up to snuff, but because this tape is just miles ahead of anything shown before. Owusu conjures up a wide array of catchy hooks and ear-worm instrumentals without sacrificing any of the poignancy of his lyrics or message. The narrative of the album is structured around his relationship with the ‘black dog’ that hounds him from the very first track onwards. Winston Churchill famously coined this term ‘black dog’ as a metaphor for the severe depression that followed him all his life, and Owusu employs it to a similar degree. Despite his undeniable talents as a wordsmith, however, Churchill was also a total chump whose contributions to the global system of colonial oppression were single-handedly responsible for the enslavement, starvation, and murder of tens of millions. This history is not lost on Owusu, though, and he flips the phrase to give it another meaning throughout the project. The dog in 

 is certainly emblematic of the artist’s personal struggle with depression, but also of his experience with racism growing up in Canberra, the overwhelmingly white Australian capital.

The first track, “On the Move!” is a short, eclectic piece that sets the tone for the rest of the album. Owusu leaps nimbly from hip-hop to soul to funk to pop to alt-rock and more on and between songs throughout the album, and the genre-bending intro is a good preview of this. The next song, “The Other Black Dog,” one of five singles to land on the project, keeps this erratic energy as Owusu excitedly chants and vocalizes over a set of understated 808s. Rather than succumb to a singular sound, however, he slows down for two low-key, melodic cuts with “Centrefold” and “Waitin’ on Ya.” The latter features one of the catchiest hooks on the whole project and sees Owusu experiment with a groovy falsetto over far airier production than the previous tracks. It also presents yet another reference to the ‘black dog’ that seems to follow Owusu across genre and style, never letting him distance himself no matter how far he travels sonically.

“Don’t Need You,” another single, is an off-puttingly upbeat change of pace in which Owusu progresses through the phases of post-breakup depression with each verse. The chorus, a jovial “I don’t need you!” is woefully unconvincing at first, as the mention of the ‘black dog’ in the first couple lines makes it clear he’s not in a good spot. However, after some introspection in the subsequent verses, the final chorus feels genuine and exhilarating. It also features the weirdly scalding diss, “I said, your ass is stinky and you built like a mole,” which is far too specific to not be referring to someone in particular. Whichever talpid (that is to say mole-shaped) person offended Mr. Owusu enough for him to include that bar: thank you for your part in the creation of this banger.

“Drown” is probably the most stereotypically indie song on the album. This is not necessarily a bad thing, but it feels somewhat lame and conformist amid such a collection of experimental tunes. It does demonstrate some of the best songwriting on the album, though, and takes the allusions to Churchill’s dogs to new heights. The former Prime Minister famously avoided standing near ledges for fear that he would fling himself off them in a moment of depression, and especially steered clear of those next to large bodies of water. He once stated, “I don’t like to stand by the side of a ship and look down into the water. A second’s action would end everything. A few drops of desperation.” Rather than rejecting it like Churchill, however, Owusu seems to lean into this fate, imploring his muse, “You’ve got to let me drown.”

Where the first half of the album was mostly concerned with the depression side of the ‘black dog,’ the second half tackles racism in a unique, thought-provoking, and catchy way. “I Don’t See Colour,” despite spelling color the stupid British way, is wickedly smart in all other aspects of its dissection of prejudice. Owusu’s lyricism is on full display with lines like “The burning of a bush told me that I was great, but the burning of a cross told me to play it safe.” These lyrics address blatant and violent acts of racism, but he also shines in addressing more subtle bigotry. In the same song he raps about how people will disparage his race in front of him and then backtrack saying “oh nah, not you man, you’re a good one.” It’s an insightful look at the gradient of intolerance that doesn’t sacrifice anything sonically in order to state its message.

“Gold Chains,” “Black Dogs!,” and “Easy” are other standouts that are definitely worth a listen. This album is thematically concise, musically expansive, adventurous, heartwarming, heartbreaking, groovy, and intellectual. It’s a beautiful hidden gem that is easily one of the strongest debut projects released by a relatively unknown artist this year. That being said, with such a wide range of experimentation it was inevitable that some styles would not work as well as others. Tracks like “Bye Bye” and “Whip Cracker” fall a little short and slow the pace of the project, but the stumbles are few and far between. This tape is fire, and Genesis Owusu is a name to watch out for.

Genesis Owusu’s breakout album ‘Smiling with No Teeth’ is a hidden gem

The New 1017 / Atlantic · February 5, 2021

“Pooh Shiesty, that’s my dog, but Pooh you know I’m really shiesty.” Even if you’ve never listened to a Pooh Shiesty song, you’ve undoubtedly heard this line repeated across viral TikTok and Instagram sounds. The catchy bar from his recently released single, “Back in Blood,” is virtually inescapable at this point, a fact that became undeniable when the hit replaced Olivia Rodrigo’s “drivers license” at the top of streaming charts. Despite this accomplishment, Shiesty’s career has not been entirely without controversy. To commemorate his #1 spot, Shiesty tweeted out, “Wow we passed the license girl @lildurk,” a comment which earned him a decidedly negative response on several social media channels, with some going so far as to call him “Poop Shiesty.” The Memphis native has also faced recent legal trouble for his alleged involvement in a Miami shooting.

This buzz and controversy, combined with Shiesty’s signing to Gucci Mane’s 1017 label, set high expectations for 

, which Shiesty seems to have mostly met. With three singles on the project, the album delivers a total of 14 new songs, most of which are very fun, quotable tunes. One initial downfall, however, comes from the fact that “Shiesty Season Intro” is packed with the same creativity and passion as was employed in the track’s naming process, which is to say none. Despite its status as a lifeless opener, it still manages to transition well into “Back in Blood,” and so serves its purpose. The next track, “Ugly (feat. Gucci Mane),” continues to pick up the slack, and delivers a very catchy hook and stellar verses from both Shiesty and Gucci. The latter opens with the memorable line “I just Louisville slugged that lil boy like I’m from Kentucky (Baow),” which is enjoyable.

The next song is already being touted as the album’s big hit, and for good reason. “Neighbors (feat. BIG30)” starts off with a nasty set of hi-hats and distorted vocals which transition into another excellent pair of verses. As with all their previous collaborations, Shiesty and BIG30 have amazing chemistry here and deliver many quotable bars. Among these is BIG30 claiming to have “had a Glock before I lost my virginity,” which, although it probably doesn’t come off as impressively as he thinks it does, remains pretty fire. At the time of writing this review, there is only one comment on the song’s Genius 

, but that user conveyed the essence of the track beautifully, saying “Please put this in Fortnite.”

“50 Shots” and “No Chorus” are solid tracks as well, but suffer from the same repetitive flow and lack of standout moments as some prior tracks. They’re not bad, just a little boring. “Box of Churches (feat. 21 Savage)” is a noted improvement on the previous two tracks, and like “Big 13 Gang (feat. Lil Hank & Choppa Wop),” demonstrates that Shiesty works best when he has other rappers to bounce off of. That being said, “Choppa Way” and “Gone MIA” are two solo tracks that prove Shiesty can hold it down on his own if need be.

“Master P (feat. Tay Keith)” is the second to last track and is, unsurprisingly, by far the most rich track on the album production-wise. Shiesty’s ad-libs float over the beat, and he drops some relatable bars like “I just woke up out my dream ’cause I ain’t feel my drink with me (Where the fuck my drink at?),” which I’m assuming refers to his experience of waking up at night with a dry mouth and not being able to find the glass of water he left on the nightstand. This is a definite standout and helps to revive the last quarter of the album.

The most unique-sounding song is easily “See Red,” which opens with a scratchy vinyl soul sample that floats into ethereal production. The string riff that plays alongside the hi-hats is enchanting, and after 14 tracks in the same style, it’s a breath of fresh air. The biggest problem with the album is the very noticeable lack of variety. Not every song sounds the same, but they all sound similar, and “See Red” is a glimpse of what Shiesty is capable of outside that realm. It demonstrates his versatility and a couple more weird or different cuts like this would’ve helped the project feel a lot more breathable.

 is an incredibly consistent body of work, and although it packs few surprises, it’s evident that Pooh Shiesty knows his niche and plays it well. There are a few duds here and there, but for the most part every song is at least good with some great ones shining through. It’s hard to knock the album for a lack of musical diversity, as that was never Shiesty’s mission. What he does deliver is some really enjoyable, aux-safe, 

 music. It’s not overly ambitious because it doesn’t need to be. Overall, 

 is a solid debut project from an exciting rapper, and showcases Shiesty’s great potential.

Desipte a few duds, Pooh Shiesty’s ‘Shiesty Season’ is a solid debut

When 21 Savage and Metro Boomin shared the 

album trailer — complete with an ominous voiceover by Morgan Freeman and the two recording in a dark, gloomy, and bloodstained house — people were primed for an equally ruthless sounding album. Although that was not the case, it’s still quite a solid showing from both.

The album starts off strong with “Runnin,” the song from the trailer, which features a catchy little hook and some nice bars. It’s a danceably despondent song that flows well from the Freeman-voiced “Intro” and showcases Metro’s superb sampling.

The Morgan Freeman skits, written by the legendary Big Rube of the Dungeon Family, continue throughout the album and are both chilling and absurdly hilarious at times. According to an interview from 

, Morgan agreed to take the role after he “read the copy and was like, ‘Wow, there’s some wisdom in here.” And boy was he right: this album is chock-full of wisdom. Freeman’s in-depth lesson on the nuanced distinction between snitches and rats on the aptly named “Snitches & Rats (Interlude)” was a fun and refreshing break. Beyond just that, the transition from Freemancalmly laying down that “at least a snitch is human, but a rat is a fuckin’ rat, period,” to the beat drop on the subsequent track “Snitches & Rats (feat. Young Nudy)” was a definite highlight.

After “Glock In My Lap,” another standout sinisterly-produced banger, comes “Mr. Right Now (feat. Drake).” This song doesn’t match the theme of the previous two songs or the narration in the slightest, but it’s just too good. Metro’s production is so fun and exuberant and 21’s hook is insanely infectious. The combo here is just smile inducing and even Drake, who’s a certified chump, comes with a great verse and a chuckle-worthy bar about being “the slow stroke king.” The next song, “Rich N**** Shit (feat. Young Thug),” is another light and jazzy hit with a great hook and some standout bars like “I did a 69 with her friend, I’m prayin’ to God she don’t tell on me.” Again, it doesn’t match the dark energy of the first two at all, but it’s arguably much better. This is the album’s main issue—it can’t decide what it wants to be. The menacing bangers are cool and hype and everything, but they lose their punch when they go back-to-back with the relaxed songs. This wouldn’t even be a problem if this project was just a mixtape or a collection of songs, but the dour Morgan Freeman narration that’s supposed to tie it together and curate a theme ends up just highlighting the tonal inconsistencies.

“Slidin” is another heavy hitter, with evil sounding hi-hats and a good throwaway line where 21 claims that “All my glocks got dildos.” “Many Men” might be the best song on the album, showcasing the absolute charisma that 21 and Metro have working together. 21’s verses float over the beat and Metro’s sampling at the end complements the song incredibly well. “Steppin on N*****” takes its beat and flow straight from the 1980s—another weird tonal shift—but does so quite well and is a prime example of a great song that doesn’t fully mesh with the others. Same with “RIP Luv” and “Said N Done,” two really personal and emotive tracks that close the album. They’re sad, reflective, and raw — the complete opposite of the more brazen and threatening tracks that make up the core of the album. Despite this, they’re still fire.

Rating this album is a really difficult task, because literally every song is good, if not great. 21 and Metro simply do not miss. As an album, however, there’s a little bit left to be desired. After the heartless “No Opp Left Behind,” two songs about romance and the tragedy of interpersonal relationships just feel out of place. The versatility displayed on this project is fantastic, but the structure makes for some awkward transitions. The narration and the interlude, while awesome, try too hard to tie something together that can’t be tied together. Having Morgan Freeman do a profound reading of “When all is said and done we can only judge, punish, reward, enslave, and free ourselves” feels weird when it comes 30 seconds after the line “Right hand on my Glock, left hand on her coochie.” But that’s the thing: this is a really weird, beautifully constructed, wacky album that just happens to take itself too seriously at times. 

21 Savage & Metro simply do not miss on ‘SAVAGE MODE II’

Eternal Atake (Deluxe)-LUV vs. The World 2

When Lil Uzi tweeted “WE GONNA TREAT 2020 LIKE 2016” three months ago, it’s fair to say nobody expected a 32-song double album with nearly every snippet and leak grail his fanbase has begged for in the comment section of every Instagram fit pic he’s posted in the past two years. This tweet was followed by a slew of manic and absurd ramblings, ranging from frequent and confusing character attacks on cheese pizzas enthusiasts, such as “Y’all don’t have no swag at all like really you still eat cheese on your pizza,” to changing his name at the drop of a hat from “Renji” to “Baby Pluto” and so on. Despite the insane heap of messages this first tweet was lumped in with, Uzi did not lie when he promised to invoke the energy of 2016 this year.

The release of two projects back to back, but also the inclusion of unreleased tracks from 2016 like “Come This Way” leads the album to retread a somewhat familiar sound. But it serves as a testament to Uzi’s tenacity for hit-making that none of these less new tracks sound stale or old despite their age. In the deluxe half of 

, the vast majority of songs were recorded and shelved years ago. “Bean (Kobe)” and “Myron,” two of such older songs, are just as timeless and catchy as the rest of the newer material.

The album is filled with so many quotables and catchy hooks that putting it down without getting the urge to immediately listen to it again is near impossible. Be it the instantly memorable “I might move like a cobra, but I’m far from a snake” line on “I Can Show You” or “Treating these Diors like it’s just old Vans, yeah, yeah” on “Venetia,” Uzi packs both sides with hits.

The deluxe side is full of fantastic features from Young Thug, Chief Keef, Future, and more. Even NAV, a rapper with an impressive and uncanny ability to ruin any song he hops on, gives one of the best verses of his career. The 

side, on the other hand, only has one feature from Syd who delivers an incredible performance. Uzi holds his own on all his solo songs and manages to keep the listeners active even without the attention grabbing features of the deluxe. Not all artists can weave so expertly from such a feature-heavy disk to a near solo effort, but Uzi does it naturally.

Almost counterintuitively, the older deluxe tracks sound fresher, more fun, and more exciting than much of 

 songs seem flaccidly referential to previous career highs without offering anything new in return. This is where treating 2020 like 2016 goes wrong. Songs like “Secure The Bag” which copies its hook from a line in his 2016 song “Ronda,” and shares a name with his 2016 song “Secure The Bag” with Gucci Mane, just fall flat and bring nothing interesting to the table. “P2,” on the other hand, is an example of this same referencing working well. A follow-up to his 2017 smash hit “XO Tour Llif3,” “P2” leans into its copying of older source material and invokes just the right amount of nostalgia without overstepping its bounds. These constant allusions to his old work do not limit this project’s ability to stand on its own, but do drag it down repeatedly throughout the album.

Lil Uzi fulfills promise, ‘Eternal Atake (Deluxe)-LUV vs. The World 2 takes fans back to 2016

Chief Keef’s Boston show was an otherworldly experience. Stepping through the doors of Paradise Rock Club was akin to falling through the looking glass and being transported to a mirror reality located somewhere squarely in the center of the uncanny valley. Despite arriving a good hour after the doors opened, the cozy venue was sparsely populated save for a few key characters. In front of the stage, an admirable group of college students were trying desperately , but ultimately unsuccessfully, to turn up to “Rubbin Off the Paint” by YBN Nahmir playing from the DJ’s laptop while 10 or 12 of Sosa’s friends hopped around on stage filming the crowd, pretending to be performing for their Instagram Live. On the other end of the venue, the merch stand was offering a selection of two long-sleeved shirts promoting Chief Keef’s 2018 release 

, even though this tour was promoting his upcoming album 

 and he has released five projects since 

. The sole other item for sale was a plain black T-Shirt that just read “Chief Keef Tour Merchandise” in white writing. I made fast friends with two other college students at the merch booth, one of whom introduced me to his 45-year-old girlfriend who was apparently a very big Chief Keef fan and his sole reason for attending. Our conversation was cut short, however, by the DJ’s ear-drum shattering inquiry of “ARE Y’ALL READY FOR SOSA?!”

We rushed over to the stage, but despite cheers of assent from the enthusiastic crowd, it seems Sosa was the one not ready for 

. The next two hours were filled with more 2018 Rap Caviar B-tracks from the DJ’s laptop and a group of four unadvertised openers with the unique ability to constantly talk over each other while plugging their Instagrams and shouting out friends and acquaintances such that not a single word was decipherable. Gun to my head, I could not tell you the group’s name or the name of a single member, let alone the name of a song they played. I even searched them after the show specifically for this review and Chief Keef has not listed them on his website, tagged them in any posts, or otherwise acknowledged them in any discernible way. They seemed to be enjoying themselves on stage, but their lack of experience working a crowd and performing live was quite apparent. Throughout all this, the DJ continued to probe the crowd about whether or not they were “ready for Sosa” as if he expected another response besides acquiescent yelling.

When the main attraction began, the atmosphere changed dramatically. Glo Gang members Tadoe and Ballout were the true openers and delivered a short but memorable set including an impassioned cover of Lil Durk’s “Dis Ain’t What U Want” that was the perfect segue for Chief Keef’s grand entrance with “Faneto.” As soon as Sosa uttered his first “gang in this bitch,” the crowd erupted into an explosion of movement and energy as every single person in the room sang along. A mosh pit was formed almost instantly and I was bodychecked by a massive man dressed as Woody from Toy Story who sent me flying, but I can think of no better way for the concert to have begun. What followed next was perhaps the best show I’ve ever attended. Chief Keef may only be 24 years old, but he’s been performing for nearly a decade and that experience is palpable.

He performed crowd pleasers like “Sosa Chamberlain,” “Earned It,” “Everyday,” and “Love No Thotties” that snapped the previously zombified crowd into a wild frenzy. The spliced remix of “Hallelujah” that morphed into “Ballin’” halfway through was a definite highlight. My personal favorite moment was when he instructed everyone to pull out their phones and wave their flashlights, as if he was about to slow down the tempo, before roaring into the fiery “Understand Me” that sent some of those phones flying as the crowd jumped and shouted to the beat. Even the songs that many crowd members didn’t know that well, like “Macaroni Time,” “Uh Uh,” and “Mailbox,” were matched with fantastic energy. Perhaps it was the combination of the close quarters, small group of people, and loyalty of Chief Keef’s fanbase, but the passion never died down for a single second.

However, the best part of the show was the last two songs. I relished the opportunity to hear some of my favorite deep cuts, but when the first note of “Love Sosa” sounded and every single person in the venue including the bouncers and the bartender began screaming the lyrics, the experience was unmatched. As he closed off with “Don’t Like” and I locked arms with complete strangers to yell at the top of our lungs, enumerating our mutual grievances in unison with Chief Keef, I felt like part of a greater, inseparably intimate energy. I am confident that in that moment we could have solved any global issue, be it world hunger or the Israeli-Palestinian conflict, with ease simply because our minds were so connected on a cosmic level. Chief Keef easily made up for a long wait time and poor openers and put on an unforgettable show by the end.

Chief Keef knows how to put on a show: Review

… what happened?” says a smiling Denzel Curry in faux disgust to a theatrically dismayed JPEGMAFIA. Peggy’s latest release was preluded by a series of reaction videos highlighting the “disappointment” of various musicians and friends in the industry as they listen to 

pretending to hate the project. This theme of both disappointment and the fear of disappointing showcase the very tangible vulnerability that Peggy poured into this project. On a recent Instagram post he announced, “This the most ME album I’ve ever made in my life… I’ve removed restrictions from my head and freed myself of doubt musically. I would have removed half this shit before but naw f— it.” It’s this idea of embracing his own corniness and creating the album HE wants to create that makes Denzel’s wisecrack so potent. This album is NOT 

The first track, “Jesus Forgive Me, I Am A Thot,” kicks the album off with the usual JPEGMAFIA toolbox. You’ve got your gunshots, your glass breaking, that weird clicking noise that was on half the songs on 

, and of course the classic Jim Johnston “you think you know me” sample. These repeated tropes lure the listener into a false sense of security until the beat transitions into a unexpectedly beautiful, melodic instrumental – an autotuned Peggy bites through the noise, crooning “you better count your blessings for 

Virtually every song features genre-bending beat switches that can flip the tone of a song from smooth chill-rap to enraged industrial screaming in an instant like on “Kenan vs. Kel” or “Rap Grow Old & Die x No Child Left Behind.” The production on this album manages to blur the line between elegant and insane so well that it’s sometimes hard to quantify how such outrageous sounds can provoke the deep emotion that they do. This is by far Peggy’s poppiest work as well, with tracks like “Free The Frail,” “Grimy Waifu,” and the title track being just a few of many that show off JPEGMAFIA’s hidden R&B repertoire. His harmonious cover of “No Scrubs” by TLC, “BasicBitchTearGas,” is another unexpectedly delightful song that, despite being a shock on first listen, feels absolutely consistent with the structure of the album.

Peggy’s trademark humor remains in full effect on this project too with lines like “One shot turn Steve Bannon into Steve Hawking” and “Big strap lookin’ like a dildo” being just the tip of the iceberg. The hilariously named “JPEGMAFIA TYPE BEAT” is a chaotic in-joke consisting of a maelstrom of screams, drums, gunshots and an Atari Teenage Riot sample that sounds closer to Death Grips than anything he’s ever released, poking fun at the comparisons between himself and the group as well as mocking the current state of production in the hip hop community. He is also not afraid to make fun of past controversies, referencing the outrage surrounding his 2016 track “I Just Killed A Cop Now I’m Horny” on “Papi I Missed You,” saying “Dead cops on my songs, that’s hilarious.” The song titles are also witty (as expected) and despite being nonsensical at times, they always impressively match up with the sound and aesthetic of the song itself.

Despite being so different from his previous work, this album feels like the natural progression of Peggy’s discography. It has the politically charged lyrics and humor of 

, the cohesiveness and production quality of 

, and the more melodic influences of his recent work like “The Who.” This is certainly JPEGMAFIA’s most personal work yet and it’s hard to find fault in such an honest, sincere, and unilaterally enjoyable project as this. Everything about 

 is authentic and original and Peggy’s vision is executed flawlessly.

Nate Gillin