Review Summary: Dead and eerily devoid of originality.
Doppelgängers in hip-hop has been a constant, deadly formality for far too long. The infinite examples are too long to load up, with Ja Rule emulating to the empt degree the foamy roughness of DMX, or seeing how female fatale Nicki Minaj portrayed herself in Lil' Kim's image, a little too much perhaps. The consistent, negative loafing we shouted and screamed out in sheer disapproval weren't able to stop these copycat, seemingly manufactured artists from completing their purpose of achieving immense stardom, and Brooklyn rapper Desiigner is no different to that, perhaps being the most severe case of plagiarism of them all. Custom-fitted and morphed with a dark, robotically Auto-Tuned voice that yells the phrase "Future clone" to infinity, Desiigner is the greatest example of the highly diluted, watered-down state of hip-hop in which it is currently laced in today. Devoid of originality and musical creativity (minus his signature ad-lib), it shows in destructive, laughable form in his debut mixtape "New English", an awkwardly funny title for a rapper who's major hip-hop mega hit, the repetitive, BMW X6-tribute "Panda", displayed a deepening hook that was so difficult and hard to interpret, it took a long, explanatory interview with rap lyric encyclopedia Genius to tell the masses what the hell he even said in the first place.
The great deception in this seemingly haunting, cold mixtape is the menacing introduction that builds up into this darkish nightmare that is literally the case. Distinguished with volatile, watery violins that simmer through in a 1920's-esque setting, it feels like you're being transported underwater into the beauty and awe of the vast metropolis of Rapture of Bioshock fame. You're deceived into believing that this actually has a chance of being surprisingly good. However, like as it was when you first step into the largely beautiful city in the gaming masterpiece, it isn't as grandiose and perfect as it seems. Afterwards, you're suddenly traversed into a trashy, mind-boggling mess of sorts to say the least. You're suddenly inserted into a seemingly generic, Future-esque showcase in the dire "Caliber", flooded by the futuristic, morphemic voice of "Future" that vibrates all throughout this glossy, overly modern jam. Even more confusing is when you're being bombed by vicerstcing, piercing battles like the scary, sacking "Monsta & Villains" that is bombarded with versatile, freaky violins and dark bass lines that drown itself in screaming virility, it would've been a decent banger had it not just been a quick, rushed 37-second sampling instead. Lit up with terrifying, intimidating lines like "Shotty go pop through the villa/bunch of 'nana clips'll kill ya", the unfortunate reality is that this is by far the most lyrically-bearable piece of work he delivers in this thankfully-short theme park attraction. Cycling around in the mechanical "Shooters", it sends us through a lame, boring repetitive hook with disappointing lines like "Finna pull up with the shooters/I'm finna pull up with the shooters", that is undoubtedly basic and felt like it was written in less than 15 minutes, it's the kind of comedic artwork that can't ever be taken seriously, and why wouldn't it be? It's exactly that.
After venturing deeper into the abyss, suffocating with undead, hellish journeys like the rotting "Zombie Walk", or the annoying illiteracy that is siphoned from the grime of "Panda", the reward you receive from the glamour of Desiigner's "New English" is its whimpering, deceasing end. Minus the black-and-white, highly vintage and classical interludes that are really the only tiny bits of this mixtape that are breathed in with originality and creativity, there's very little to scour across that doesn't feel familiar. The closest we ever get to something concise and developing as his own is the blending of classic and modern in the ultraviolet, boastful "Talk Regardless", his braggadocio address to his many haters and critics who speak of the plagiarism he's copied off. However, even as he truly develops into something definitive, he comes to exclaim to us in middling irony, "quarter mil' when I rob sh*t/n***as gonna talk like they 'bout sh*t" underneath glossy, brightening violins and bustling bass. Oh, did he rob absolutely. That's the ultimate snapshot that you end up taking away from this overnight excursion, a mere sample of the life of Desiigner, that is consisting of deriving numerous acclaimed artists' styles and meshing it together, complete with the Future-esque voice to top it off, and then slap it off as seemingly his own, even though it really isn't. We ought to be ashamed of ourselves for allowing this rubbish to ascend atop the hip-hop pedestal so fast without really even trying.
