Review Summary: Revisting a homogeneous classic through a heterogeneous lens
Young Thug is a lyricist. Period. And Barter 6 is his magnum opus. I cannot begin to tell you the kind of impact it's had on my life. Young Thug uses a plethora of interesting and varied literary techniques along with pulsating exotic beats to get his points across, but it's those points that he gets across that really speak to me. The track “Constantly Hating” is the ultimate example of both his techniques and message, in one dynamic song that I almost feel could have been written for me (as I'm sure many of you relate to as well). Young Thug opens up and spills his guts for us, talking about real life problems that many of us have definitely been through before.
Take for example his golden line:
But really what is it to do
When the whole world constantly hatin' on you?
Pussy niggas hold their nuts, masturbatin' on you
It is truly heartbreaking to think of young Jeffrey Lamar Williams surrounded by his ten siblings, sweating it out in the Sylvan Hills, Atlanta, waking up every morning to sacks and masturbation fresh upon his face, like the dew upon the grass on a sunny spring day. I know this feeling well. Having six siblings myself, I know what it's like to grow up in such a compact yet teeming bevy of post-pubescent revelry. Every day, you awake to that unwelcome spray, look out the window and see a frowning sun, and know that the whole world is once again, hating on you, specifically. It's a dark place to be, darker then the depths of Young Thug's anti-hero Birdman.... and speaking of Birdman, it is in his use of this rather dubious character that he displays his rather unique literary techniques.
The very use of an anti-hero is unconventional for a main stream hero to say the least. Bringing into the picture sets the stage for the tumultuous drama that the song becomes. Birdman is not just an antagonist, he's an excruciatingly scary sight who claims to have won a hundred million dollars on “fights”. This is were things get complex. On one hand, we see Young Thug portraying himself as a victim, being hated on by the world and masturbated on by unnamed assailants (although, I believe it can be reasonably ascertained that these sack-wackers are either his siblings or government employees of some nature). In his plight, it is only natural that our hero Young Thug would look for someone strong to help him stand up and climb out of the abysmal stink-hole in which he is a denizen. Though Birdman may indeed seem like a strong and capable hero (it should also be noted that name Birdman carries some significance, with the word “bird” implying flight, implying freedom, etc.), he is clearly not one to be trusted and does not seem entirely favorable to the idea of becoming anyone's protector, much less the universally hated on Young Thug. This a conflicting sense of both love and hate for Birdman, just as we often feel for the anti-heroes in each of our lives...
Birdman shows that he also is not an amateur writer We can see this clearly in his use of the somewhat obscure literary tactic of Paraprosdokian. This is masterfully incorporated in his verse as he shockingly uses the N-word after every single line in the first half verse. The first time I heard it, I had to go back and play it again, and then again, just to make sure I was really understanding it from an interspersed ethos. It introduced a psychological dimension to the album that is steadily cultivated throughout, as he continued to toy with my previously unquestioned acumen. With horrifying thrills of surprise, my mind struggled to keep up with the vast array of stimulating literary ploys, relentlessly pulling and pushing me towards the mindset which the artists intended to leave me with. It like I was but a brush in the phalanges of a master painter, powerless to resist, yet entirely willing, to let him paint over and reshape the canvas of my mind.
In the final verse, we see the climax of this psychological drama. Young Thug finally begins to cave. We see clearly his descent into dark abasement, as he finally chalks this one up to an L by turning to crack, and falling upon as his only hope for respite. The anti-hero cannot save him, and with the whole world against him, he cannot stand alone. So he staggers, he falls into the waiting arms of “bad habits”, but where else does he have to go? There seems little other choice for our downtrodden hero. In the depths of his desperation, he pitifully cries out to the Wiz Khalifa to Just. Give. Him. Some. Weed.
Through the entire album continues to varily burst at the brims with such clever motifs and insightful, relatable lyrics, this one song I feel sums the whole work up satisfactorily. Pages upon pages could be written on each one, and it be completely justifiable, for Barter 6 is a true masterwork, deftly perusing the intricacies of the human nature and spirit. This album is, without a doubt, the crowing piece of 2015's musical contribution to the great all consuming mother of music. Thank you, Young Thug. Thank you.
