Review Summary: everyday we winnin', everyday 420
Of all artists in all genres, rappers often most plainly show their evolution. Many start making mixtapes at fourteen and unashamedly employ their craft for decades, their topics of interest staying constant, yet changing too. Although daily struggles and passions they talked about in their youth don't necessarily go away, their approach to them alters. Young Dolph's topical preferences (bitches, money, brotherhood, weed) probably haven't changed all that much between
16 Zips and his previous tapes, but I'm certain how he thinks of and lyricizes them has progressed. Whether for better or not, I can't really say.
I had never listened to rap mixtapes or albums, at least in full, before listening to
16 Zips, and I'm not really interested in money, weed, or bitches. However, after spinning
16 Zips, I can understand why Young Dolph talks about them, which has given me a new kind of appreciation for trap music (as a genre). Black Americans, consistently excluded from American institutions post-1865, used dingy, run-down spaces to express themselves free from judging eyes, prompting them to almost
champion sexuality and hedonism. Leading lives of honor and respect had proved fruitless, so they reclaimed bad stereotypes, intent on living good lives even though many lived in poor, unkempt and lawless neighborhoods.
16 Zips embodies this mentality. If anything,
16 Zips is nothing but consistent. Opening track, “Boyz in the Hood,” speaks to this reckless, pleasure-centered philosophy, highlighting living good, f
ucking bitches, making money. Each song follows similar themes; many, ranging from hard-hitting street anthems to reasonably engaging and others, weak street anthems, which discuss things already touched on, only less successfully.
In terms of beats,
16 Zips utilizes layered synthesizers, sub-bass lines, and percussion, often integrating clean piano and symphonic strings. The beats accompanying “Ask Your Bitch,” brand it
16 Zips's most jam-worthy. Of four features, only Jadakiss in “Addicted” adds anything fresh. Dolph's vocal is confident and distinct, which contrasts Jadakiss' synchronously clear and growly tone well.
Finding most catchy jams early on,
16 Zips loses steam fairly soon, but a few solid tracks later on sustain it. And as much fault as anybody could find on this tape, nothing can really be taken away from
16 Zips or Young Dolph himself in regard to authenticity. He is who he is, telling us who he is. There's no point in questioning his intentions, as there's nothing deep about
16 Zips. All I can find to say is that he lives, sees others living, talks about how he's living, and then asserts his identity on
16 Zips, which, in turn, reflects “trap” living - noisy, loud, and - to any willing to accept it - fun.
