Review Summary: coke rap for sad people
Pusha T is often labelled the 'coke rapper,' for reasons that need no explanation. But Pusha is neither the only artist in contention for that title—whether the title itself is good or bad notwithstanding—and today, June 22, we received the latest mixtapes from one of the less lauded and often under-appreciated poets of the genre: Freddie Gibb’s "Freddie."
Freddie Gibbs has been making music for a long time—like at least 14 years—and has pretty consistently churned out good stuff. His career highpoint was probably his collaborative album with producer Madlib, "Pinata," but the rest of his discography, which includes three studio albums and a bunch of mixtapes, is just as strong. Gibbs has a unique story-telling ability which seems to be influenced by his unique origins.
Gary, Indiana doesn’t necessarily appear like the most exotic locale—other than the fact that the Jackson family is from there—but the stories of such small-ish distressed industrial towns are not well-represented in rap. Gibbs, being from Gary, has been and continues to be something of a representative for places like Gary. Gibbs’s music lacks some of the extravagant glamour that defines drug-rap, settling instead for a more unvarnished and personal perspective.
"Freddie" is in the same vein as Gibbs’s prior work, both thematically and technically. A talented rapper with an abrupt yet flowing delivery, Freddie tends to rap a lot about drugs, drug dealing, drug money, drug-related violence, and so on. This short mixtape—only 25 minutes spread over ten tracks and with an album cover that references Teddy Pendergast’s album "Teddy"—doesn’t stray far from his usual subject matter, but nor does Gibbs show any signs of losing his touch. His lyricism is still strong, imagery evocative, and beat selection—courtesy of a number of producers including Kenny Beats—airtight.
There’s a certain faux luxury about Gibbs’s music, a product of sumptuous but often intentionally hollow and foreboding beats combined with his expressive yet austere rhymes. On tracks like 'Weight,' he raps about wealth and fame, but the washed-out rhythms and dark bass suggest something more sinister. This isn’t Rick Ross or even French Montana; there’s nothing glamorous about Gibbs’s depictions of success. It feels dirty and ill-gotten, even vaguely regretful.
Features are limited but include a strong contribution from L.A. rapper 03 Greedo on the Kenny Beats produced (“WHOA, KENNY”) 'Death Row.' The song is one of the more upbeat on the album, although is made tragic by the fact that 03 Greedo recently received a 20 year prison sentence. The other features come from singer Cassie Jo Craig and Gibbs’s own daughter, Irie, on the final track 'Diamonds 2.'
The Kenny Beats collabs are a high point of this album. The producer’s recent project with Atlanta rapper KEY! ("777") was one of the better albums this year, and Kenny’s work with Gibbs doesn’t disappoint. Apart from having one of the best producer tags in the game, Kenny has a talent for building beat that walk the line between dance and hardcore hip-hop. 'Death Row' takes elements from classic west-coast production—particularly Dre’s beat for 'Boyz-N-The-Hood'—and expands on them, adding more depth and movement.
While Freddie certainly does have a number of Gibbs tropes—soul samples, drug references, him saying “yah”—it is something of a departure. While it still sounds like Freddie Gibbs, the sound of the beats is a bit more in tune with current pop tastes. He’s done away with some of the movie and TV clips and melodic sampling he’s known for, focusing instead on more straightforward production.
Like I said, Freddie Gibbs doesn’t really get the credit he deserves. The man has been putting out consistently good music for a long time, and "Freddie" is far from a disruption in that tradition. If anything, this mixtape is a bit more mass appeal-y than some of his past albums. This doesn’t mean that if you nerd out about rap and pay attention to the finer details, you’ll not be disappointed; far from it. It’s good stuff, maybe even better than "DAYTONA"—maybe. Pusha is still better than Drake though.
