After a deceptively disco lead in, King reveals a comparatively ballsier intention on "2 Minute Abs," a quivering mass of snaps and wobble. A beat tape unafraid to reconnect the torn ligament separating trap from the rest of hip hop, Creatine culls from old workout videos and self-help cassettes for its thematic and often comedic sample base. With production credits for Ab-Soul, Glasses Malone, and Murs, among others, Curtiss King potentially found his way into your ears well prior to this Alpha Pup release. If you assume this is your first encounter with the Inland Empire native, chances are you’re mistaken. Better than most of The Life Of Pablo, ‘Figure It Out’ heavily features West’s signature robotic gargle. For wavy banger ‘Sanctuary Pt 2’ he repurposes a Utada sample and quotes The Weeknd in a stunning pop culture power play. Borrowing Metro Boomin for a minute, Montana parties through the pain on ‘Man Of My City’ with punchline pal Big Sean. Commiserating with Future on ‘Miley Cyrus’, he grapples to maintain his flashy lifestyle while addressing personal trauma.Īpart from the newfound gravity of Montana’s verses, Wave Gods is unquestionably one of his most instantly gratifying releases. By his own admission, the brutal murder of Coke Boys’ rising star slowed Montana’s own output, and he’s not afraid to reveal just how much that loss continues to affect him. Nonetheless, Montana’s justifiable preoccupation with his incarcerated friend Max B and his tragically departed friend Chinx Drugz touches just about every track on Wave Gods, a party rap project with a covert yet profoundly sentimental heart.
But if by chance they did, they might find themselves Googling the phrase survivor guilt, a condition that I’m in no position to affix to the man’s file. West wouldn’t bother analysing Montana, or pretty much any other rapper. I suppose I ought to be grateful that those millennial know-it-alls who shared their amateur diagnoses about Mr. Uneasy lies the head that wears the crown, and the reigning Coke Boys monarch has woes for days. Instead, this is a review of Wave Gods, the latest tape from New York street rap potentate French Montana. Shoddy, fraudulent lazy narratives have won the day, as usual.
It doesn’t matter if I consider The Life Of Pablo a God Dream or a Dog’s Breakfast. What good would it do if it were one anyway? Every music critic with a byline, a prescription for Lexapro, and a few low-bitrate Taylor Swift MP3s has already made their case for or against the rapper’s new album / mixtape / fashion show soundtrack / social media performance art piece / whatchamacallit. This is not a review of Kanye West’s The Life Of Pablo.