Review Summary: Living in the shadow of his own giant.
Throughout the duration of
Digital Roses Don’t Die, Big K.R.I.T. often repeats to his audience that digital roses do not, in fact, die. This apparent theme is included in several interludes revolving around different Avatar-esque powers, each verifying the record’s title and how “[element] is
really [element, with emphasis].” It is consistently awkward, seemingly pointless even with the benefit of context, and it absolutely
didn’t have to go this way. Despite his thoughtful reminders scattered about, I constantly felt compelled to check and see if this was, truly, the path Justin Lewis Scott envisioned for himself after concocting the modern rap classic
4eva is a Mighty Long Time. Comparisons are difficult to avoid when transitioning to an LP drastically lacking in gripping hooks, memorable verses, and beguiling instrumental support. Perhaps the emcee behind it considered the rap game solved and determined he couldn’t elevate that particular sound further. Artists often vie to meet their previous ambition via dismantling themselves in order to reconstruct their brand; Lupe resurrected himself twice; Chance faceplanted 22 times in a row; and Kanye became—well, we’re not sure yet. Sketchy track record, I suppose, but it demonstrates how restless creators can be should they feel constrained by expectations. Yet the next Earl Sweatshirt this is not; this is Big K.R.I.T.’s foray into poppy R&B with soul and funk vibes, and the cornerstones of his successful LPs are lost in the transition.
Big K.R.I.T.’s rapping prowess is entirely absent on
Digital Roses, taking a backseat to
vibe and conventional singing. Credit where it’s due, K.R.I.T.’s singing voice is enjoyable, sufficient to support a tune. What complicates matters is that the tracks he appears in are directionless, uninspired passages that come across as either unfinished ideas or discarded samples. It makes for thin outputs such as “Show U,” a track with dreams of upbeat swagger that lacks the songwriting bones to pull it off; it survives based only on its positive disposition per underdeveloped contributions, with the bouncing bass, galloping tempo, and soul flavorings possessing no purpose beyond background noise. The arrangement emerges awkwardly from the poor lyrical flow of “Southside of the Moon” and fails to take the record anywhere, simply exiting once its mood is established. This forms a trend early on: K.R.I.T. is staking the success of
Roses on restraint—on an airy, relaxing production designed to provide little else except a vague sense of contentment. Compositions are nauseatingly one-dimensional, which is made all the more tedious by how they’re presented: 17 songs, nearly all clocking in below 3 minutes. There's no space for entries to explore, and the subdued instrumentals imbue no confidence. No attempt to let any arrangement breathe properly is made, causing more disruption than serenity, and consequently ruining any hopes of consistency.
Examples are progressively worse throughout the experience. “Cum Out to Play” is nearly 3 minutes of meandering R&B swells, only barely moving
anywhere when strings and fireworks appear at the tail end. The repetitive interior of “Generational – Weighed Down” takes a stab at shifting to something else, but it ungracefully stumbles into it instead as if happening upon some acoustics and backing vocals by mistake. The number clumsily fades away with a distant electric guitar in order for K.R.I.T. to describe to you that wind is, well,
wind, bro. Fellow cuts a la “It’s Over Now” and “Rhode Clean” could’ve been ripped from the radio without a second thought; they have no unique identity to them, their beats are nearly nonexistent, and they’re bereft of the Southern aesthetic and charm that once graced K.R.I.T.’s work. Making matters infinitely worse is how far the emcee’s rapping has fallen when it manages to attend proceedings. Scott’s tone is emotionally aloof throughout
Roses, performing the bare minimum in multiple cases. Lead single “So Cool” does him no favors, nor does the plain groove and lukewarm chorus. The horns that eventually enter
could have added some necessary levels to this songwriting, but the sub-two-minute entry never gets anything of substance started. Akin to “Generational,” the ending of the formulaic “Just 4 You” –discount hi-hat beat courtesy of the Billboard 200—tries to attain a culmination, but the rapping has little force to it. In cooperation with weak supporting variables, the number predictably succumbs to the pitfalls of its own mishandled construction. Near this juncture comes a song titled “Boring,” and it’s difficult to tell if it’s genuine self-awareness or a dangerous absence of it.
Much could be excused if Big K.R.I.T. had engineered dramatic sonic changes in the name of a powerful theme. However, regardless of the apparently strategic placement of interludes to evenly divide the release in sections, the lyrics and instrumental motifs fail to buttress this approach. Glittering synths, subtle acoustics, soul-inspired background vocalists, horns, you name it, it’s anywhere. There’s no discernable rhyme or reason for the elemental angle outside of constructing a façade of depth. The weak beats and the excessive restraint force
Digital Roses to try too much without providing the tools for it to adequately commit to options. Rather than develop compositions, Scott duplicates them until they’re devoid of redeeming qualities, immediately proceeding to the next foray. Going for an optimistic, pop-centric route didn’t need to produce a result that sounded astoundingly cheap and hurried out the door—K.R.I.T. can write ideal singles and add an addicting refrain for good measure—yet despite a serviceable gap between projects,
Roses is ostensibly incomplete. Lowering the bar of quality this low is not an accomplishment I expected to hand to the surging emcee, especially when he has the talents perfectly suited for a Tyler the Creator-esque reinvention. Successful or not, those aforementioned artists presented challenges to how listeners analyzed their music, trying to discover the intent behind every decision. No intrigue awaits those exploring the flat landscape of
Roses; it is as unrewarding on first listens as it is on any subsequent visits.
