The Best New Music This Week: Ice Spice, J. Cole, ASAP Rocky & More

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  • Ice Spice, “Princess Diana” 


  • J. Cole, “Procrastination (broke)” 


  • ASAP Rocky, “Same Problems?” 


  • Joe Trufant, “i hate the drunk you” 


  • NLE Choppa f/ 2Rare, “Do It Again” 


  • Shady Blu & Babyface Ray, “Topic of Discussion”

Hemlocke Springs’ Change of Plans

Photo by Travis Bass / Design by David Sealey

Where are you right now?
I am in Asheville, North Carolina right now, recording some stuff.

Uh-oh, I think you’re frozen for me.
Oh, no. I froze… [Hemlocke carries laptop into the hallway]. Are we back?

Yeah, we’re back.
Sorry. This is so unprofessional.

All good, all good.
I’m going to take the computer and my hotel key, and we’ll just go down to the lobby. Or maybe outside would be better? Can you still hear me?

I can hear you now, yeah.
Okay. Maybe I can just do it here, if I can find good lighting. This is probably not how most interviews go. We’ll just do it here.

No problem, I’ll get right into it.
Of course. Please ask away.

First off, does your dad know about your music career yet?
[Laughs] I’m dead. No, he does not. I know, I know. It’s the holidays, so maybe I’ll sit him down and I’ll tell him everything. But no, he still does not know.

You only have two songs out, but you were sharing music before that on SoundCloud, right?
Yeah. What would happen is I would go, I would post a song on SoundCloud, and I would immediately delete it. So the first song that I posted and it stayed, it was called “Jacob,” and I really liked that song. It is deleted now, but I really liked that song. And then the second song that stayed up was “gimme all ur luv.” And I was like, “I’m going to post this on TikTok, too.” And then everything happened.

When you first started posting songs, were you getting a reaction that made you want to keep going, or was it crickets?
It was crickets. There were some people who would message and be like, “Oh, I really like the song,” or something like that, but I didn’t have a following or anything. But after COVID, I was just like, “Well, you have these songs—what do you want to do with them?” I was just like, “Well, you could always post them online if you want to. That’s an option.” And so I went and I posted, but I was still deleting them afterwards.

Finally I was just like, “Okay, you need to stop taking down your stuff. I think this is an anxiety thing. You need to fight against this.” Finally, I would post and the song would stay. And I got some people being like, “Oh, I like the song.” But it wasn’t anything like I’m receiving now at all; it would be two or three people or something. But still it was cool—people from different parts of the world were listening. I was like, “Oh my gosh, how’d you even find this?”

So you’ve got a couple of songs out now, and I saw you graduated from your master’s program.
Yeah.

Does your music career feel real yet? Is it a reality, or does it still feel like a trial run?
Honestly, the latter. Definitely a trial run. I don’t think it’s hit me what exactly is going on right now. It’s only been since May, to be honest. I’m still just like, “What is happening?” But it’s all good. I think that the up-in-the-air feeling of it all is scary, but it’s also one of the things that gets you going, I guess.

After Dartmouth, my plan was to see if I can work for a lab, and then get some papers in, and then I can go for my PhD… But that’s changed. It’s weird stepping back and being like, ‘Wow, this is now not the direction that I’m going in.’ That was my five-year plan, but not anymore.

When you were in school, did your classmates know about your music, or was that a completely different world?
I was trying to separate it. When “girlfriend” came out it was around finals week, and I was like, “I need to study.” But I only told my friends at the time; I didn’t tell everybody. But word got out when one of my classmates found out. I popped up on his TikTok, and then he told people. Not to call him out, because it’s all good. Then some articles came out, and word was spreading. 

Now I still have to look at my school email because I was getting emails from some of my teachers about it. I’m like, “Oh my God, what is going on?” My last term, I was supposed to work at the library, but I couldn’t because of what was happening on the side with music. My supervisor emailed me and was like, “I knew something was happening, but I didn’t know it was this!”

It’s been nice to see such things, but honestly, it’s still just a blur.

I read that you studied bioinformatics in school, is that right?
Technically, I studied medical informatics. Bioinformatics is where I wanted to go from graduating. So medical informatics is about analyzing patient data. I wanted to go towards the bioinformatics route, which is basically analyzing genes. After Dartmouth, my plan was to see if I can work for a lab, and then get some papers in, and then I can go for my PhD. I’d have an existential crisis once I got there, but I was like, “I want to go for a PhD, and then after that, I will figure stuff out.”

But that’s changed. It’s weird stepping back and being like, “Wow, this is now not the direction that I’m going in.” That was my five-year plan, but not anymore. But it’s all good. All great stuff, obviously.

I get asked this a lot because I studied finance in school but ended up in music: is there anything that you learned in school that you’re applying to your music career?
Honestly, I think just speaking. I wouldn’t consider myself a scientist by any means, so I say this generally. Some scientists don’t know how to talk to people. And that’s not a dig—that’s something that people have noticed, so there are actually classes on how to communicate with others. I was definitely one of the people that just didn’t really know how to communicate, whether it was my work or even communicating through music. I still struggle, but I’ve tried to take some aspects of what I’ve learned in my classes and apply it. Even though I’m not communicating science, I’m communicating music-wise. 

I don’t want to say I don’t consider myself a musician, but it’s still just… When people ask me about my music or my process, I’m still like, “It’s not professional by any means.” I’m trying to elaborate on it and speak clearly and not go all over the place like I usually do. I hope I’m doing a good job. Maybe not…

Photo by Travis Bass / Design by David Sealey

When did you decide, “Okay, I need to have a manager and put together a team and take this seriously?” Was it one thing, or was it just a gradual progression?
It was a gradual progression. I didn’t really know what was going on. One of the reasons why I work with [my manager Dan] is because he was so passionate from the get-go. He had a lot of faith. And honestly, I did not have that at that time. I was just like, “Wow, I need to get on your level.” It was a progression once people started finding me and I realized this could actually be an opportunity. You can let it go by, or you can go and explore it. So I was like, “Well, close your eyes, go for it, and see what happens.”

I saw Grimes commented on your song. Were you familiar with Grimes already?
Oh yeah, yeah. I love Grimes. I love their music a lot. Some of the comments on “gimme all ur luv” were like, “This reminds me of Grimes.” I remember waking up in the middle of the night, and honestly, I thought I was going to delete the video. But I woke up and then I saw that Grimes had commented, and I was just like, “Back that up. What? “What is going on? What?”

I just remember the wave of joy, but also some confusion because I was just like, “How did I show up on their page?” I wasn’t sure how the algorithm works, but that was so cool. I feel like that’s the coolest thing to happen to me still. That’s when everything started building. I pinpoint it to that moment. I was very grateful for that.

That is a big co-sign. That and Steve Lacy—
Yeah, oh my gosh! I saw him follow, but I hadn’t checked my DMs yet. And I looked, and [Steve Lacy] DMed me. And I was just like, “Noooo way!” I freaked out. And then I messaged back, and I wasn’t expecting anything. But he messaged me back, and I’m like, “We’re having a conversation. I don’t care if it’s two messages—we’re having a conversation!” He was so kind too, he was like, “We need you” and stuff like that. I was just like, “You talking about me? Like we need you, what are you talking about? Me?” But it was so cool. 

You do most of your music on your own, but do you have any desire to collaborate more now that people are reaching out? Any dream collaborations?
Yeah, I do want to collab more, but I really do. I think for right now, I’m working on an album. Actually, in Miami I was trying to work with a producer/singer-songwriter, and he listened to some of my stuff and he was like, “Honestly, I feel like I shouldn’t interrupt your process.” So instead of working with him, I was just doing stuff on my own. And I kind of like it. I like doing stuff on my own, but I also feel like at some point I’ll need to branch out.

So yeah, definitely collaborations. Dream collaborators? I’m only saying this because I don’t think it will ever happen—if one day, if I could collaborate with Kate Bush, that would be so cool. Honestly, dream. That’s top. That’s really, really top. It’s not going to happen—that’s why I put it out. Positive manifestation, actually. Positive manifestation.

It was a progression once people started finding me and I realized this could actually be an opportunity. You can let it go by, or you can go and explore it. So I was like, ‘Well, close your eyes, go for it, and see what happens.’

You’ve shared that you don’t love the mixing and mastering process, and that’s your least favorite part of making music. What’s your favorite part? Is it that very beginning of an idea? Or is it actually getting it out or releasing it?
My favorite part is definitely writing lyrics. I really enjoy that. I struggle talking and speaking clearly, so I feel like when I write… Well, I don’t really write my lyrics, I just type them up in the little notepad section of Logic, the DAW I use. I like doing that, because all the confuddled stuff that’s going on here [motions to head], I can just see it in clear, concise words. They’re not always so clear, but I can see what’s going on up in there. I really enjoy that.

I also enjoy going on the arpeggiator. I have a MIDI, but I don’t use it anymore because I’m stubborn and in my own way. What I do is I just pull up the arpeggiator whenever I try to come up with chords, and I’m literally on my Mac keyboard. I just slam it, and then I see what I come up with. That’s also one of my favorite things to do.

A lot of people are trying to classify your music. I saw you mentioned indie sleaze and some of the other names people have used to describe it. Do you care how people label your music? 
No. Honestly, I consider myself a pop artist, so I just go with straight pop. I know when I search myself up on Google… should I admit that loud?

Everyone does it.
Okay. When I searched myself, it came back with alternative slash indie, which makes sense. And then people are like, “What is this?” And I’m just like, “It’s not pop?” I just thought it was pop. It’s not really a preference, though. If somebody asked me, I would say pop. But indie sleaze? What in the world is that? That’s a dope name though, indie sleaze. I’m down with anything, honestly.

I was a little surprised to see you mention that you are big into K-pop and electronic music, because I would’ve thought it was more maybe ‘80s pop. How did you land on making the type of music you make? Was this just what came out?
It’s really just what came out. I have no clue. The progression of music genres that I listened to from my childhood to now—I don’t know. One day I was on the computer, and that’s what happened. But I love K-pop a lot. And electronic music, that’s the first instance of recognizing music as an art form.

In middle school there was this little auditorium with a big projector, and they would play music videos. I was sitting in there one day, and they played Avicii’s “Levels.” I remember the video. There was this person pushing something up a hill, and I was just really into it. I went on a really deep dive with Avicii and deadmau5 and Kaskade and Tiesto and old Calvin Harris and all that stuff. Yeah, that was my first heart. As I’m saying this, Avicii is my screensaver and has been for the past three, four years.

And then K-pop came in college. I don’t even want to say it was a phase, because I still really listen to it, although in college I was going hard. With the progression of my taste and the things that I’ve listened to, I just landed here.

Even before that, what was playing in your house as a kid? Was music a big part of the household?
Not really. My parents are uber Christian, so there was Christian music. I remember there was just one song that I would just always go back to in my childhood by DC Talk—I think it’s called “In The Light.”It was this rock slash rap group. It was different from what my mom or what my dad listened to.

But I really wasn’t that musical growing up. Honestly, the musical one was my brother. My brother was in band. I was in choir, but I feel like he was really into it and still really into production. He does the SoundCloud beats, the Afrobeats, so that was his thing. During my childhood, my thing was, “I’m going to be a doctor.” We see how that turned out.

And then one day in high school, my friend was showing me something that they made on GarageBand, and I was like, “What’s GarageBand?” And they were like, “You have it on your computer, it’s here.” That’s when I started playing around. And then it wasn’t until college when I was really into it. I would hyperfixate on it.

Photo by Travis Bass / Design by David Sealey

Part of why I like your music so much is because you do have these big hooks and great songwriting, but it still feels DIY and handmade. Is that something you want to hold onto? Do you ever want to work with big, polished production?
I’ve definitely thought about making it more polished, but whenever I go that route, I don’t think it works. My friends have listened to some things. I remember my friend listened to what she considered a more polished version of “girlfriend,” and she did not like it. It’s nice to hear that kind of feedback. So I think I want to keep this sound. Polished stuff has never really appealed to me anyway. Okay, that’s a lie, I take that back; I listen to it all the time. But personally, I don’t know if it’s a direction that I would go for myself. 

We talk to a lot of new artists who feel pressure to put themselves out there, especially with the rise of TikTok. It seems like you aren’t taking it too seriously and you’re just doing whatever you want. Is that the case, or do you think about content plans and strategy?
It’s a mix of both. Since getting management, things have had to become quote-unquote more strategic. But it’s still me and when I think of something random, I’ll do a TikTok on it and then call it a day. It’s not that serious.

I definitely understand the pressure, though. The point of TikTok, for me, is it’s a way to connect with people. So I do a video, go through comments. During the beginning stages, I tried to respond to every comment, and now I cannot do that. I wish I could do that—that was really fun. But now I go and I see how people are feeling. I try not to think about it too much, and my team isn’t really in my ear about it. At the end of the day, it’s me behind the account so it’s just like, “Do what you want to do, and close the app. Close it, because you will get sucked in.”

As you get bigger, do you think you’ll want to keep that transparency and connection? Or are you going to be like Kate Bush and just disappear one day?
Honestly, I’m probably going to put a lot of things out and then disappear. But I’ll definitely pop up once in a while. I got my start off TikTok, so in some ways it’s now like an obligation. Even though I have an online personality or something like that, it’s not what I’m used to at all. I’m usually alone, and I’m really introverted, so it’s weird documenting stuff on TikTok. At some point, it’s going to be like, “I shut down!” At some point, I might have to log off. But not now.

I’ll definitely use this time to connect with people and show people more if they want to see something more of me, totally. Setting boundaries is something I’ll need to work on once it’s something I feel is too intrusive, but it hasn’t gotten to that point yet.

I saw you were in New York, and it looks like you took at least one label meeting. Have you made any decisions about signing or not signing or next steps in the music industry?
No, not really. Have talks progressed? Yes. But whenever I think about signing, I get so stressed. At the end of the day, I’m going to focus on the album and just go and record music. That’s really it. I think what stresses me out is I really don’t know what’s going on and what is to be expected in the future. Right now, I don’t even want to think about that. I should, because talks are coming up, but I have not.

When people are like, ‘Oh, just keep posting,’ they’re actually onto something. You never know—it really might be the next post that gets you somewhere where you want to be.

Do you have any album in the works, or any 2023 plans that you can share?
I’m trying to think if there’s anything I shouldn’t share. If I overshare, whoops. Well, now you know: I am working on an album. I think I’m aiming for a release pretty soon. I have it in my mind for April, but please don’t take my word for it. Quote me, but also don’t quote me. It might not happen. But definitely 2023.

I’ve been thinking of the album cover art and names. I’ve had a list of songs that I want since September. Sometimes I talk to my manager, and he’s like, “You can record new stuff.” But if I’m being completely honest, I’m really stubborn. So I think that the list that I have right now is the official list. I don’t think it will change. Maybe one or two songs.

Do the songs sound like they come from the same world as your first two? Or are you trying anything different or surprising?
I think it’s surprising. The next single is called “stranger danger!” and I think this one is surprising. Definitely a bit darker. You have to surprise people. I think if I keep up the feel of the two previous singles, it will be too stagnant. I don’t know. There are some songs that remind me of the first two, but I’m just making sure I bounce from place to place.

It’s still so early for you, but do you have any advice for other artists who are trying to do what you’ve already done?
Advice? Oh, god. It’s luck, honestly. I wish I could say otherwise. I wish I could be like, “Oh, I worked really hard to get here,” but I don’t think I could look you in the eye and say that with much conviction. A lot of luck got me here. The first TikTok I made of “gimme all ur luv,” only two or three people saw it. So I guess if I had to say something, it’s that you really never know. When people are like, “Oh, just keep posting,” they’re actually onto something. You never know—it really might be the next post that gets you somewhere where you want to be. So I guess that’s my advice.

That is good advice. I think a lot of artists feel like you did when you wanted to delete things if they don’t work immediately. The fact that you didn’t led to a lot of good things.
Yeah, that is very true. That’s another good piece of advice. Don’t delete your stuff immediately! That’s awful.

Editor’s Note: We followed up a few days ago and Hemlocke confirmed that her father now knows about her music career.

Breaking Down Frank Ocean’s Cryptic Message in Four Acts

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    ACT I: The Recording Artist (Character + Plot)

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    ACT 2: The Recording Artist vs. The Chairman (Conflict)

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    ACT 3: The Pandemic of 2020 (Climax)

  • ACT 4: The Recording Artist has an epiphany (Resolution)

I Almost Quit, Then I Read Rick Rubin’s Book

For example, I had an interview set with an important person at a prominent brand for a job. I planned to pitch investigating Ticketmaster and the problem of nepotism in society. The meeting was canceled and I shelved the ideas, only to see them become talking points weeks later. Meanwhile, Rubin writes: “If you have an idea you’re excited about and you don’t bring it to life, it’s not uncommon for the idea to find its voice through another maker. This isn’t because the other artist stole your idea, but because the idea’s time has come.”
 
There are tips for how to connect with your subconscious. He cites artists who listen to instrumentals for the first time and just start blurting out gibberish with no thought or preparation, something I’ve heard artists like Snoop Dogg and Rico Nasty claim they do. 
 
He makes the case for utter randomness. In one passage, he suggests opening a book to an arbitrary page. Recalling a time when his doctor told him he should have his appendix removed, he picked up a book by Dr. Andrew Weli, opened it to a random page that said, “if a doctor wants to remove a part of your body, and they tell you it has no function, don’t believe this.” He opted against the surgery. While I probably wouldn’t take his medical advice, he’s really just trying to convince you to be open and let the universe guide you when you’re unsure. 
 
He encourages experimentation and holding on to childlike wonder. He’s against competition and comparison, assuring artists that their competition is only themselves while they’re on the path of evolution. This is unlikely to ring true with the audience at large who love to compare, but it’s something any artist in the creative mode would benefit from hearing. “Putting your best effort in at each moment, in each chapter, is all we can ever hope to accomplish,” writes Rubin.  
 
One of the most relatable sections is a bullet-pointed list of “Thoughts and habits not conducive to the work” which include, “Believing you’re not good enough,” “Abandoning a project as soon as it gets difficult,” and “Thinking you can only do your best work in certain conditions.” I’ve had every single thought on the list at one point or another, and I’m sure every artist I know can attest they’ve had them as well. 

[Rubin] grapples with the tension of art vs. commerce that every professional artist must confront. What he cares about is very clear, as he succinctly writes, “The business thinks in terms of quarterly earnings and production schedules. The artist thinks in terms of timeless excellence.”

 
Many of the sections where Rubin reflects on his personal experiences of crafting an album sound like the story of an album I know but not one Rubin had a hand in. He describes situations where an artist is no longer interested in the completion process (DONDA 2 anyone?), and another one where an artist suddenly wants to start over because they spent too much time in one phase of crafting, citing things like “demo-itis.” He describes the difference between what he calls “experimenters” and “finishers.” He describes experimenters as people who find it difficult to complete and release work—it made me think of Dr. Dre. He describes finishers as people who move quickly to the endpoint with immediate clarity. It makes me think of prolific rappers like Lil Wayne, Future, and YoungBoy NeverBrokeAgain. 
 
He grapples with the tension of art vs. commerce that every professional artist must confront. What he cares about is very clear, as he succinctly writes, “The business thinks in terms of quarterly earnings and production schedules. The artist thinks in terms of timeless excellence.” He also is frank about what often happens to artists who do finally blow up: “Most aspects of popularity are not as advertised. And the artist is often just as empty as they were before, probably more so.” 

Ultimately, he isn’t trying to make the case for being permanently inspired in a zen-like state of boundless creativity. Instead, he advises us to continuously work towards a goal, be okay without everything being perfect, and not let the voices in our heads dissuade us from making it to the finish line. When you finally do get to the end, the world’s greatest reducer explains how to strip it down to its bare essentials. 
 
Reading the book I was reminded of one of my favorite quotes that Roger Ebert often cited though he did not originate: “The muse visits during, and never before, the act of composition.” People often think they need some grand idea before they can start working when in fact, you need to sit down, start working, and while you’re working a grand idea will come to you.
 
Most of Rubin’s advice is so practical it’ll seem obvious if you actually follow through. At one point, I put the book down and started using voice dictation on my Notes app and came up with the first drafts of several ideas I’ve been thinking about. I would often press the dictation button by mistake and panic trying to figure out how to get back to a keyboard. Now I look at it as a tool that I’m going to use for every first draft. Perhaps every time I clicked it by mistake, the universe was giving me that signal like Rubin says.
 
There’s a great anecdote where he recounts working with a woman coming off a successful album who had lost the will to keep working. When he told her she can stop making music if it wasn’t making her happy, her face lit up because she realized she would be happier putting her work out in the world. I thought of SZA, who seemed disenchanted with the music business after CTRL and took five years to craft SOS, an even better album. 
 
Like the anonymous artist Rubin refers to, even as I find myself ready to give up, I can’t stop. I started writing on SubStack. I don’t really know why. Maybe I am an artist, after all, compelled by some unknown force. “You’re the only one with your voice,” assures Rubin.  
 
I’ve only had two jobs in media, I may never get a third. Maybe that’s okay, I’m going to keep writing anyway. I’ve been to Shangri-La. I know the way back.

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NBA YoungBoy “I Rest My Case” Album Review

Over the years, “YB Better” has become both a valid argument supporting NBA YoungBoy’s unwavering dominance and a go-to insult for internet trolls hoping to irritate his contemporaries. Rappers like Kodak Black and Polo G have even vocalized their frustrations with fans spamming “YB Better” under their posts. Nevertheless, that hasn’t stopped YoungBoy from getting in on the fun, too. In the lead-up to his Sincerely, Kentrell album in 2021, he commissioned several “YB Better” billboards across the United States.

Despite the annoying nature of his infamous tagline, YoungBoy Never Broke Again has repeatedly proven he’s better than his competition. With four Billboard 200 chart-toppers on his rapidly growing resume, he is easily one of his generation’s top commercial performers. On the contrary, YoungBoy also doesn’t even seem too concerned with the charts. Last year, the Baton Rouge native sporadically released eight projects, and his fans ate them up with ravenous excitement. Without a doubt, the 23-year-old rapper stayed on top of his game by rewarding his cult following with endless material. Still, dropping projects nonstop can be a death sentence, and the threat of listener fatigue undoubtedly loomed over the horizon. 

Nevertheless, NBA YoungBoy stormed into 2023 by announcing his first new album of the year. Then, on Friday, January 6, he delivered I Rest My Case.

DALLAS, TX – MAY 03: YoungBoy Never Broke Again performs during JMBLYA at Fair Park on May 3, 2019 in Dallas, Texas. (Photo by Cooper Neill/Getty Images)
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For his fifth album, YoungBoy made the brilliant creative decision to distinguish his new music from his prolific 2022 output. However, he did so by adopting a sound that’s alien to his discography yet all too familiar to rap fans. Shockingly, I Rest My Case heavily borrows from the alternative, hyper-digital, and punk-rap soundscape of Playboi Carti’s Whole Lotta Red. In fact, one could go as far as to argue that YoungBoy may even be trolling Carti’s once-polarizing style. The cover art features graphics that are practically synonymous with Carti’s fanbase, from bats and coffins to crosses and skulls. In addition to its nearly monochromatic artwork, some of the album’s track titles seem to address the connection to WLR. Obviously, “Red” is the most eye-catching song title, but “Bitch Yeah” also feels obnoxiously reminiscent of Mario Judah’s “Bih Yah.” 

It’s almost like YoungBoy is trying to one-up Carti, who’s easily one of his biggest competitors, on his own turf. As a result, I Rest My Case begs an interesting question: Is YB truly better than any artist he’s put against?

Although it’s a brave and ambitious effort from the Never Broke Again head honcho, I Rest My Case doesn’t yield the definitive answer its title alludes to.

On one hand, YoungBoy’s new album makes for an easy and entertaining listen. The excitement of hearing one of Hip-Hop’s most prominent young acts dive head-first into a new sonic direction pairs well with the comfort of returning to one of rap’s most thrilling new subgenres. In fact, there are several times throughout I Rest My Case where YoungBoy proves that he could excel in the space if he so chose to. 

ATLANTA, GA – NOVEMBER 29: (EXCLUSIVE COVERAGE) Rapper NBA YoungBoy performs onstage during Lil Baby & Friends concert to promote the new release of Lil Baby’s new album “Street Gossip” at Coca-Cola Roxy on November 29, 2018 in Atlanta, Georgia. (Photo by Paras Griffin/Getty Images)
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On tracks “Louie V,” “Just Like Me,” and “Not My Friend,” he sounds like he’s been doing this forever. In addition to those standout tracks, the skits (“Top Girls,” “Top Haters,” and “I Love YB”) bring IRMC all together.

Still, it would be a lofty statement to say he makes the best version of this style of music. While there are moments when one could entertain the thought of YoungBoy doing Carti better than Carti, they are fleeting. Furthermore, IRMC would largely benefit from a beefed-up presence of songs that feel more authentic to YB’s artistry. Few tracks — including “Double Cup” and “Same Thang” — feel like YoungBoy songs, which diminishes the album’s sense of identity. 

Thus, the album’s strengths directly lead to its most glaring flaws. Love him or hate him, YoungBoy Never Broke Again has consistently been one of the most unique new acts. Without a doubt, many up-and-coming rappers have morphed into mini NBA YoungBoys due to the young rapper’s success and influence. Balanced against the originality of his past work, I Rest My Case feels like a step backward. Hip-Hop has progressed so far that albums like Whole Lotta Red and IRMC can thrive, but some things haven’t changed. For instance, biting still remains a cardinal sin in rap to this day. So while the idea of YoungBoy cosplaying as Carti sounds entertaining, the album feels antithetical to everything that YB has built for himself.

In conclusion, I Rest My Case is a solid and refreshing new offering from NBA YoungBoy, but it’s simply too derivative to stand on its own as a great album.

Read More: NBA YoungBoy Has Snowball Fight With Fans During Video Shoot

Now that you’ve read HNHH‘s review of I Rest My Case, we want to hear from you as well. Are you feeling the Baton Rouge native’s new sound? Does the originality, or lack thereof, affect your ability to enjoy his latest body of work? In the comment section below, let us know your thoughts and opinions on I Rest My Case.

Furthermore, you can also give NBA YoungBoy’s new album a rating of your own here.