OBSESSED WITH ALL OF MY ENDINGS: A SHORT REFUTATION TO HIP HOP DOOMERISM
Plus some recommendations!
I firmly believe that every year is a good year for music. New music is constantly coming out, and among the onslaught of albums and singles and DJ mixes is a plethora of beautiful, awe-inspiring art that can change your life. 2023 in particular was a watershed year for good stuff, and 2024 is already shaping up to be even more incredible. Hip hop is no exception to the rule. The boundaries and borders of the genre continued to be pushed in every direction, and multiple records that redefined its vitality on the eve of its purported 50th anniversary came out. Really, it’s healthier than ever. But you wouldn’t know that if you used social media.
According to scores of people, hip hop is dying. It seemed like every week last year Twitter and Youtube would explode with debates about why the entire genre is falling off. Every time a new mainstream album by artists like Drake or Travis Scott came out, people would begin declaring that the genre was on the way out. Drake’s album For All The Dogs was less cohesive and more lethargic than ever. Travis’ Utopia failed to reach the euphoric highs of his earlier work, especially his debut album Rodeo. Lil Uzi Vert’s Pink Tape was the first hip hop album of the year to top the Billboard 200 chart, and it came out at the end of June. Clearly the genre is dead! Things got even worse when Andre 3000, one of the greatest rappers of all time, explained his feeling that as a middle-aged man, he felt like he had no room to express himself in a hip hop context. He felt he had aged out of the genre. This, of course, jumpstarted a week of discourse on what it meant to grow out of rap, and if the genre even had a future. It was all very bleak and doom-laden stuff.
The more this empty conjecturing and posturing droned on, the more irritated I got. All my friends, both online and IRL, know that I’m prone to rant about the vivacity of hip hop in our modern world at the drop of a hat, and these lazy indictments of the genre and the culture always piss me off. In hopes of helping people expand their perspectives on hip hop, I gathered a couple examples of my favorite hip hop songs of the last couple years, with some context and explanations attached as well! I hope you enjoy the picks.
CEO TRAYLE - SONG CRY
Much has been made of the future and fate of street rap, and to me, CEO Trayle is one of its brightest prospects. Trayle represents the breakdown of regional differences in hip hop, but also the diversity of influences that add to the melting pot of what makes the genre interesting now. He’s a native of the Bronx, who’s lived in Chicago and is now Atlanta-based? That’s like a perfect triangulation of the hip hop zeitgeist.
What makes Trayle even more unique, though, is that his sound can’t be tied down to a single geographical location. Of course, many of his beats feature trap-derived percussion, but “Song Cry,” which brilliantly reshapes and recontextualizes the chop from Jay-Z’s mournful 2001 torch song of the same name, features gorgeous and precise melodic manipulation that hinges around a beautiful loop. The vocals bleed into a beautiful series of piano chords from “Sounds Like A Love Song” by Bobby Glenn, punctuated by 808s and insistent kicks that are mixed just right so as to not overpower the melody. And on top of this skittering, propulsive yet contemplative beat, Trayle skates and dances. His flow is certainly anchored by his recording style; like most rappers these days, he punches in his bars (records them one at a time), a technique Lil Wayne has been famous for since he stopped writing his bars on paper in 2002. Since the mid-2010s, a particularly accelerated and intense method of punching in has become de rigueur in hip hop, a legacy I trace back through DMV rappers like Lil Dude and Goonew, who seem to have drawn influence from Atlanta rapper Hoodrich Pablo Juan. I’m used to rappers constructing songs from dozens of separate takes, splitting each bar into its own atomized moment of an impulse, and letting these moments spill over the listener’s ears like an avalanche.
But Trayle’s bars, punched in though they might be, refuse to quantize cleanly into the beat. He spills over every bar, expressing his thoughts in whole sentences or wickedly bitter aphorisms. Sometimes, he’ll string so many thoughts together, each obviously separated as his different vocal takes interrupt each other, such that it’s almost overwhelming to hear at first. When I first heard “Song Cry,” I was struck by one particular section.
I jumped in this shit prepared to take a loss/That's how you know I'm the boss/I jumped in this shit prepared for taking off…slowed down when I got to Mars/I was high in my space ship, I'm seeing stars/My shit easily endorsed/Watch how easily he get crossed/Watch how easily he lost….
It’s hard to express visually in text, but the way that Trayle lets each bar build up before the next take comes crashing in is so smooth. He swings his flows like no other. “Song Cry” topically isn’t much new: he’s remembering the friends who stood with him when he had nothing, reflecting on what it takes to be a boss, comparing himself to an unnamed adversary. But stylistically, his unique flow and kaleidoscopic focus on every aspect of his thought process make his diametrically opposite take on a hip hop classic feel alive, and damn near groundbreaking.
Anyone unlucky enough to know me knows that if you let me talk long enough, I’m gonna bring up Vayda. In the grand scheme of things, she’s pretty popular on the Internet, and that’s for good reason. But to me, she’s one of the best working, because her beat selection and flows are so incredible. Vayda is a master of fast flows. Many people have used the triplet flow to death since it became ultra popular in the mainstream following Migos’ rise to power, but Vayda is able to finesse her soft voice and strong word choices into these perfectly contained cells of rhythm. “Rash,” from her most recent full length Forrest Gump, displays both her skilled balance of triplet flowing and her predilection for glittering, atmospheric beats.
But I always come back to “Gummy (Vaymix),” a remix she made of her own song “Gummy.” Situated on her fantastic EP Shade, this track takes a song that was previously a nice, catchy jingle of a tune, and changes its entire vibe. Produced by Vayda herself, she gives the vocals a whole new tune-up, with a beat that incorporates the swinging rhythm of drill, combining the deft and athletic hi hats with a gauzy lasagna of rich synths that layer interlocking melodies. It gives her sing-songy flow the perfect background to bloom.
Lots of people complain about or dismiss female rappers outright, even in the underground, and it’s always frustrating to see. I knew Vayda was something special when I heard her banger “Bingo” for the first time. It felt like a shot of dopamine; just pure bad bitch rap over a gorgeous beat with funny, sharp lines and iconic delivery. But when I caught a livestream of her making her own beats on TikTok, I knew she was gonna be one to watch. “Gummy (Vaymix)” is a perfect example of that talent coalescing into a deceptively simple pop rap tune that is impressive in how deep its melodies worm into your psyche.
Valee had a really special moment several years ago. He was signed to Kanye West’ GOOD Music, and anyone who knows anything about GOOD Music knows that didn’t do a damn thing for his career. His laconic voice and deceptively complex flows won me-and tons of other people-over instantly. He dropped a ton of incredible songs in a short timeframe (“Allat,” with its stomping beat and hilarious off the cuff observations, was my personal favorite) and then seemingly disappeared. Though he kept releasing music slowly, he seemed to have dropped off of everyone’s radar.
In recent years, though, aided by incredible collabs with producers like Harry Fraud and surrealist kindred spirits like Zelooperz, he’s begun regaining momentum, and rightfully so. He keeps pushing himself into newer and stranger musical contexts, and it’s paying off very very well for him. But his collaborative mixtape with Detroit (by way of Monroe, Louisiana) producer Top$ide and the legend, Car Toons, is one of my favorite releases by him. “whatdafuckdoUmean” is one of my favorite tracks from this project because it features him in a comfortable mode. He lazily glides over the beat, uttering his classic flexes of expensive cars and beautiful women, but over Top$ide’s funky production, he sounds right at home. Top$ide is an expert in channeling the sound of late 90s New Orleans hip hop (my first real musical love!) via his production, which was what led me to fall in love with his style when I first heard his beats on his collaborative mixtape with Shaudy Kash, On The Yeah Side.
Valee has professed his influences before, most notably Project Pat (having called Pat’s debut album Ghetty Green his favorite album of all time) and Mannie Fresh, and over such clearly No Limit and Cash Money indebted beats (Top$ide himself has waxed poetic over his love of Master P’s solo albums, and the bass on “whatdafuckdoUmean” reminds me of something off of The Ice Cream Man), Valee channels Pat’s repetitive, anthemic flows, but repurposes them through the lysergic haze of the 2010s rap wave Valee himself came up in. It’s a hypnotic, fun trip through the mind of two brilliant and fun to listen to artists, who channel their love for less outwardly championed hip hop into a unique and funky textural experience.
Feardorian is one of the greatest producers in the underground right now, full stop. I can’t think of many producers more consistently interesting, surprising, and engaging than him. Between him, Top$ide, Evilgiane, and Cash Cobain, the sound of the genre feels like it’s in great hands. Typically, you’ll hear him making beats for brilliant young luminaries like Yhapojj (who is the main photo up top, and who I’ll definitely be talking about at length later on), quinn (a literal young queer genius), and 454 (Central Florida legend!) That’s to say nothing of his amazing collabs with the internet’s favorite Milwaukee innovator AyooLii , which as a group of songs form some of the most anarchic and flat out fun music I’ve heard in years.
But there’s lots to be found in Feardorian’s solo music too. He’s got an icy, detached flow that contrasts well with his often emotionally hyperkinetic beats. “Bankhead Freestyle” has to be one of my favorite songs of his for this reason. The beat, with its oceanic synths ebbing and flowing atop playfully skittering hi hats and laser tag gun blips, rubs up against his dreamlike, tired flow, creating a tension that so many younger rappers are fantastic at playing with. It’s like waking up from a dream where you talked to someone you lost a long time ago, and returning to the waking world a half-asleep zombie. Every line is almost buried by the mix, but you occasionally get a glimpse of his reflections on spending time with his grandmother in Bankhead. So much art right now gets at this feeling of partial opacity. We can’t get to the heart of what the artist is telling us, but you can still see yourself. Someone like Earl Sweatshirt, who always bears his heart but keeps the listener at a healthy distance, feels upstream from this, no matter how texturally different it might be on the outside.
There’s tons of chatter about hyperpop and what that word implies, but Feardorian’s melodious, oneiric miniatures don’t feel too separated from the futuristic innovation that the concept implies. He can take samples from anywhere and loop them hauntingly in a way that feels like a pause screen in a JRPG from 2006 (like this kuru song), or create a shining pearl of pop perfection like in his addictive, cyclical banger “kute,” one of my favorite songs from last year. He’s proof that the kids are more than alright. They’re doing something really special, and they’re doing it together!
On a whole different tip, I would be remiss if I didn’t mention Nappy Nina, one of the dopest and realest rappers out right now. She’s a native of Oakland, but has lived in Brooklyn for over a decade now, and I can see much of both her homes in her. The ease and playfulness of her poetic musings, combined with her powerful flows and complex bars, make her a truly bicoastal and engaging MC. Whenever I’m desperately needing to hear some rap that centers me, and helps me remember to calm down and take life one step at a time, I revisit her work. Her most recent record, Mourning Due, was one of my favorite albums of last year, and its closing track “(B)ending” featuring Nathan Bajar, is a phenomenal microcosm of what makes her so wonderful.
Over a gorgeous, laid back instrumental, led by a melancholy guitar figure that loops and contorts its way around the lowkey drums, Nina waxes literal poetic about the dual natures of beginnings and endings. She obsesses over the way things come to an end in life, but how beautiful that can be! She foregrounds the human impulse toward self-sabotage (“Creatin’ my own defeat, pray that I’m home for sleep…”) but is able to encapsulate so much of that pain into such brilliant slices of language. Mourning Due foregrounds the sorrow of grief, and the struggle to overcome that. Nappy Nina’s efforts to foreground black women in her raps about recovering from trauma, and it’s a perspective that is often shrugged off and minimized, ESPECIALLY in hip hop.
”(B)ending,” then, takes all of the albums themes and wraps them in an upbeat package. The album is a journey through pain, addiction, and sorrow, and at the end of the tunnel, she takes the listener back into life. Endings can be an obsession, but they can also be liberating.
Hip hop is a brutal, difficult space for women, femmes, and nonbinary people to exist and work in. Nappy Nina, and her frequent collaborators like JWords and maasai (who have collaborated with Nina via their duo H31R, who are also goated and neccessary) start these dialogues of care, recovery, and love so bravely, and I hope they get the respect and appreciation they deserve. Listen to Mourning Due, y’all!
Thanks again for reading Vacant World! I hope you enjoyed this, and found some good music to check out. I’ll definitely be writing more about hip hop in the future, so I hope you liked what you read here. Next post will be about music as well, then the post after that, I think I’ll branch out to another medium, so be excited for that. See you again in two weeks!
Great piece on hip hop.Well needed conversation
woohooooo vayda mention!!!