Review Summary: Finding paradise at last.
What an artist does for the fans is nothing but a integral part of the landscape that comes with being apart of the music industry. Whether it'd be meet and greets, live Q&As, or otherwise, there is nothing more sweeter for the ordinary individual than to be thrown gimmes for their absolute and immense dedication to their favorite artist. Maryland rapper Logic is the showcase epitome of how artists should treat and spoil his fans, dubbed as the vintage "Rattpack", an ode to his immediate influences of Frank Sinatra and his musical conglomerate. He's catapulted to the throne of the music industry because of his underground following, thanks to his heavily popular "Young Sinatra" mixtape trilogy that soared and scored millions on Datpiff, and with two stellar studio albums to his credit under a major label, he's grown to deafening heights that has finally resulted to a major headlining tour with three of the most mainstream names in hip-hop: YG, Yo Gotti, and Californian maestro G-Eazy on "The Endless Summer" tour. As a thank you gift for the large and damning successes that he's been thrown his way, Logic gives to the fans his first mixtape since 2013's fabled "Young Sinatra: Welcome To Forever", the aged, fitting "Bobby Tarantino" - an 11-track vacationed feasting that returns him to the underground roots in which garnered him the pompous resume that he places forth to the hip-hop spectrum, while also continuing to front the conceptive originality from the last two vivid compilations.
The building foundation that screamed and ascended Logic to the top when it came to the "Young Sinatra" trilogy was his fabulous usage of samples that he took sheer advantage of, ranging from NY superpowers Jay-Z to the late Biggie Smalls. He returns to that kind of colored, bristling composition that he reflected to earlier in the past, but he presses the forward button as he looks away from the golden age of hip-hop to the new, current state that it is freshened in today. That is showcased in the cold, slick "Slave II", as Logic graces the menace and fear of Bryson Tiller's "Rambo" and ravishes it into his own customized, yet repeating loop - laying upon darkening, grimy synths that is paired with booming, pillaring bass that beams with grandeur as he spits in raw, gritty form in this hazy sequence over the pressures of having to sacrifice for the demanding standards from the mainstream. The irony in this however, is the pop-culture friendly lyricism that he obliterates through this ultraviolet sequel to 2012's "Set The Tone", persecuting with lines like "Check the Instagram fam/I got 50,000 people in the crowd", noting and pointing out to the mega social media presence he's acquired over the last six years. His humility has been something he's always littered us with, but that doesn't even exist in "Bobby Tarantino", a fitting title for a rapper who's abandoned his "Young Sinatra" days and with his sophomore studio album over with. Those days are over with, as he continuously brags with whimsy vigor and zealousness over his luxurious possessions, and name-dropping the per usual prominent names a la Kanye. While he has all the right in the world to finally proclaim his accomplishments that he's been racking galore to this point, the cycling repetition that occupies along with it is also the very flaw that boggles down the scarlet-colored gift he presents to us.
The commercialized venture that Logic surfaced on in his spacey sophomore concept "The Incredible True Story", boosting us up with uplifting, fun jams that sparkle and glimmered, returns once more as more of the same exists in its fullest in his vintage-esque mixtape, serving itself as the oasis in which he's landed on after searching for it in his sophomore travels. His proclamation as an ascending "rap god" in the defining "Flexicution" strides mostly down that line, plastered with "oh gods" and "oh my gods" throughout its clique, revolving hook underneath gripping, sharp bass and soupy strings tiring along. Even his wife, singer Jessica Andrea, lends a hand in the whole extravaganza - delivering an eloquent, accented voice that fleshes up the lyrically boring brag-fest. Lyrically speaking, it is highly consistent as you're treated to highly flavored cocktails such as the daunting, fearing "Wrist" with Pusha T - essentially a drug story that is loaded with enticing lines like "sees his wife on the ground/military busting bullets all over the whole compound" that is deadly but also numbing to the brain. While treated to such delicate, vivid mind-trips such as that clever menace, you can also be terribly let down as Logic sadly desecrates to oblivion in the whimsical, laughable "Super Mario World", paired with an ugly hook that is overdone in "oh my goodness" repetitions and layered in mechanical, lamely euphoric synths. It's one of his most basic, yet biggest let-downs to date, and it displays in devoid, heavily raw form.
In the end, "Bobby Tarantino" is just a mixtape in ways to give back to the Rattpack for their hard efforts to catapult and send Logic soaring to the epitome of the hip-hop throne as he stands forth amongst the hottest the genre has to offer. It's not an entirely awful outing either, bristling with strong anthems like "Wrist" and "Slave II" that are strong examples of the bragging that he stigmatizes in full-blown fashion throughout this 11-track early Christmas present. The very issue that degrades it however, is the awfully basic lyricism and lack of conceptive depth that flows along with it, because minus the overzealous bragging that he siphons the hell out of, there's really nothing else that he discusses further but his achievements and staggering presence. This isn't certainly his weakest mixtape to date, but it isn't such the boastful, banging offering we certainly anticipated for either. However, there is much to celebrate regardless in this post-landing encounter, a free vacation of sorts for the man who just found himself in his tropical Paradise finally after six hard years in the industry. Paradise, finally at last he achieves.