Review Summary: A stroke of distorted genius.
At around the mid-2010's, rap and trap music saw a gigantic surge of innovation. SoundCloud truly was a blessing and a curse. It birthed an era where anyone could release any music they wanted, in any quantity, without the aid of record labels or music critics to give them the promotion they desired. This opportunity lit a fire under the arses of inventive young producers and rappers, leading to an explosion of new sounds that branched off into a multitude of categories. Lil Ugly Mane and $uicideboy$ locked on to the classic aesthetics of Memphis Rap, while releasing material that sounded wholely their own. Ghostemane went down a similar avenue, wearing horrorcore on his sleeve while evolving over time, throwing industrial and metal into his sound to become the powerhouse that he is today. And of course, there was emo rap, an army led by Lil Peep that spawned hundreds of clones, sampling classic 90's riffs and coupling them with rattling hi hats, booming bass, and melodic, autotuned verses and choruses laden with depressive lyrics.
And it is at this point that we start to see the "curse" side of the SoundCloud formula; clones. So many clones. The platform became saturated with thousands upon thousands of artists, all trying to do the same thing. Creators saw certain subgenres start to take off, so instead of dropping original material, they stopped creating and started copying. Nowadays, it's very difficult to find something unique in the underground trap community, something that doesn't sound like another 16 year old trying to be the next XXXtentacion or Scarlxrd.
So when something like "Rainbow Bridge 3" comes out, you best better take note, pay attention, and thank the lord that imagination in modern trap music is far from dead as long as we have people like Sematary carrying the torch.
RB3 is a ridiculous mashup of every trend we have seen in the underground rap scene from the 2010's until now, cranked up to 11, shoved through a meat grinder and pressed out into your eardrums. On paper, that sounds like an idea that could go very south, very quickly. But somehow, Sematary manages to find the perfect balance between too much and too little, staying just as reserved as he needs to be while also being so bombastic, experimental, and in-your-face crazy that you get the most enjoyment possible out of his Garage Band science experiments. This album, front to back, is a satisfying punch to the face. It is beyond abrasive, with its huge walls of distortion coated thick and heavy over every single track on its runtime. Couple that with its pummeling bass, and it's practically a harsh noise album at some spots (see "Skin Mask 2" or the end of "Crucifixion" for the best examples of this.)
Circling back to the topic of balance, these insane, melt-your-face-off beats don't overshadow the wonderful vocal performances Sematary lays down on these songs, and that's where we begin to see the project as a whole really begin to shine. The vocals are just as distorted and crunchy as the beats they're belted out to, but they're mixed so well in the midst of all this madness that they're miraculously able to stand out, and they translate very well considering what they have to fight through to get to the forefront of each track. Sematary sounds like a Chief Keef from hell; he has a very monotone, "back of the throat" voice, and he delivers it in a very loud, booming manner that goes flawlessly with the echo, reverb, and (of course) the many layers of autotune slathered onto his bars and hooks. The autotune provides melody to these songs that wouldn't have much - if ANY - melody otherwise, as a lot of the samples get lost in the neverending waves of static. It's like a lighthouse through dense fog; it's hard to see at times, but you can make it out, and you're so glad that it's there.
Digging into the lyrics onto RB3, it's apparent that this is an album meant for pure fun (as if the overall sound didn't give you that vibe already.) The majority of the lyrics are edgy, tongue-in-cheek references to withcraft, death, murder, partying, you know the drill. But unlike a million other bars that have been said in this vein, they're so blunt and deadpan, delivered over these wild and catchy beats, that they don't come across as cringey or over the top as a result of the project purposely being over the top. It fits into the aesthetic, and these types of lyrics work well with what the album is trying to accomplish. There's also some hilarious one liners and other bars that, once again, are said so deadpan and to-the-point that I can't help but crack a smile or chuckle at them (see "I'mma slap a Proud Boy, I'mma slap a Transphobe; *** what you're about, bitch ya, it's ANTIFA mode" on the track "I'm A Sinner.")
The influences Sematary pulls from are so far reaching, varied, and executed so differently on each individual song on RB3, that it would be nearly impossible for me to put it all on paper in a review without a paragraph regarding them being a mile long. "Toothtaker" sounds like a Wicca Phase cut if Satan himself hopped on the beat. "God's Light Burns Upon My Flesh" sounds like Bones and 100 Gecs collabed to release a balls to the wall, blown out banger. "Meet Me By The River" sounds like Health made an industrial trap beat out of old punk guitar samples that progressively got more aggressive. And the intense levels of reverb and distortion makes the album almost sound glitchy and futuristic, as if it was a Drain Gang release but if Bladee or Yung Lean decided to go in a much, MUCH more visceral and grating direction. Despite clearly wearing these many influences on his sleeves, Sematary remains an anomaly with RB3, staying in his own lane and crafting a magnificent haunted house of horror out of the little bits and pieces he's picked up from other notable figures in the community he stems from.
All in all, RB3 is a fantastic listen. It may turn off quite a few listeners with just how coarse-grained and unorthodox it is, but if you can make it past all that, you'll find yourself banging your head to nearly a full hour of pure, possessed bangers, grinding your teeth down to the gums and enjoying every minute of this. Give this thing a whirl, and make sure you've got good dental insurance.
