Kyle Reassures His Dream Girl On The Lighthearted ‘But Cha’ With Josh Golden

Ventura rapper Kyle takes a poppy turn on his newest song, “But Cha” featuring singer/songwriter Josh Golden. Released with an anime-inspired lyrics video, “But Cha” finds Kyle serenading his dream girl, reassuring her that he intends to stick with her for the long haul. “Your stock is goin’ through the roof and I’m investin’,” he winks. “No multiple-choice, ain’t nobody to choose.”

Kyle’s latest arrives eight months after his last album, 2020’s See You When I Am Famous!!!!!!!!!!!!, his second major-label album after 2018’s Light Of Mine. While Kyle has always embraced sunnier production and heartfelt themes, “But Cha” focuses even more on melody and lighter tones, much like Famous lead single “What It Is” minus the melancholy.

The turnaround time on his new song is impressive, considering he spent much of the year promoting Famous with videos like “Money Now” and “See You When I’m Famous” in the midst of pandemic precautions. He also managed to find time to work on season two of his surreal animated variety show Sugar & Toys, so being able to start prepping a new project just goes to show how committed he’s been through the past, wild year.

Listen to “But Cha” above.

Kyle is a Warner Music artist. Uproxx is an independent subsidiary of Warner Music Group.

Tobe Nwigwe Makes His Late-Night Debut With An Elaborate Performance Of ‘Eat’ On ‘Jimmy Kimmel Live!’

Six months ago, Tobe Nwigwe debuted the video for his song “Eat” as part of an extensive and seemingly endless string of self-released singles showcasing the self-contained creative factory he’s created with his wife Fat, business partner/producer Lanell Grant, and director Nate Edwards. Last night, they brought their elaborate creations to late-night television for the first time, performing “Eat” on Jimmy Kimmel Live! and making sure it was an experience none of the show’s viewers will ever forget.

The performance, which was pre-taped due to COVID-19 restrictions, featured an eye-catching mod look, placing each of Tobe’s band members on a separate, social-distancing-approved circular stage, as masked models cat-walked through the background, then hit the spacious floor for another of Tobe’s elegantly-choreographed routines. Meanwhile, Tobe’s fit did as much talking as his bars did, as he flexed a massive puffer trench bearing the likenesses of Breonna Taylor and revolutionary Fred Hampton under the slogan “It’s hard to sleep these days.” Both Hampton and Taylor were killed by law enforcement officers in their sleep during raids on their homes.

Tobe’s ongoing release campaign has so far included songs like “The Truth,” “Pistol,” and “Tundah Fiyah” and featured guests like Big KRIT, Black Thought, Bun B, D Smoke, and Trae The Truth. Tobe also performed a cover of Harold Melvin and The Blue Notes’ 1975 classic “Wake Up Everybody.” You can watch below.

Watch Tobe’s late-night debut above.

Why Doesn’t Hip-Hop Have Many Cover Albums?

Samples have always been the backbone of hip-hop. The very first raps were performed over beat breaks, which were looped and extended to provide B-boys a platform for their gymnastic dance routines and rappers their bombastic bars. However, despite hip-hop’s preference for calling back to the past, making history as modern as a freshly-released single, the genre has oddly few examples of another tool for paying homage to the forebears and icons of days past.

Last week, M1 and Stic.man of revered revolutionary rap duo Dead Prez revealed that the late, great Los Angeles legend Nipsey Hussle reached out to them prior to his death for permission to remake their seminal 2000 debut album Let’s Get Free — but the idea was never executed, as Nipsey passed away before he was able to begin work on the project in earnest. Besides this one high-profile example, there aren’t very many other albums by current rappers that seek to recreate the classic works that have inspired and influenced them. So, why doesn’t hip-hop have many cover albums?

Part of the answer may stem from rap music’s status as a young genre. Just 30 years ago, the culture as a whole was still fighting for its legitimacy, dismissed as a passing fad. However, that didn’t seem to stop musicians in other disciplines from nearly constantly covering each others’ songs to the point that there is widespread debate about the “best” versions of hits like “Respect,” originated by Otis Redding and made classic by Aretha Franklin; “Proud Mary,” a Creedance Clearwater Revival turned rocking revue by Ike and Tina Turner; and “Strange Fruit,” the defiant ode to Black resistance in the face of monstrous treatment sung by Billie Holiday and further popularized by Nina Simone.

Rock artists have also had a long history of reinterpreting classics for new generations. Consider Dirty Projectors’ Rise Above. In 2007, bandleader David Longstreth set out to replay Black Flag’s 1981 album Damaged from memory despite not hearing in for 15 years prior. If that sounds ambitious, Beck’s 2009 project Record Club would seem downright obsessive, as the genre-hopping multi-instrumentalist sought to cover whole albums in just one day each with a fluid collective of musicians. These included Leonard Cohen’s Songs Of Leonard Cohen, The Velvet Underground’s The Velvet Underground & Nico, and INXS’s Kick.

The form is a staple of other genres, such as rock and soul, but seems foreign to hip-hop, despite the fact that hip-hop now has enough history behind it to have several generations of “old-school” music, as many a millennial has been dumbstruck to learn in recent years. Where a 35-year-old today may have cited NWA, Public Enemy, or Run-DMC as “old-school” based on their high school experiences, a 15-year-old today looks at that 35-year-old’s high school faves like Jay-Z, Ludacris, or Nelly, and sees only a pack of old fogeys — Public Enemy may as well have been recorded on Fred Flintstone’s Dictabird.

Further complicating hip-hop’s relationship to cover projects is its reliance on samples and insistence on originality. Biting lyrics is a no-no of the highest order in hip-hop, and while sampling is the foundation of the art form, rarely are songs recreated or reinterpreted — and sometimes, choosing a sacrosanct record to recreate is seen as blasphemous. Just look at the reaction to DJ Khaled’s Outkast sample on his 2019 song “Just Us.” Borrowing the melody of “Ms. Jackson” didn’t work out any better for him than J. Cole’s similar homage — borrowing the loop from “Da Art Of Storytelling, Part 1” on “Land Of The Snakes — did for the North Carolina MC.

However, there is one example of a hip-hop cover album that was both well-received and tastefully done. In 2011, former Slum Village member Elzhi set out to pay tribute to one of his favorite MCs, Nas, by recreating Nas’s revered debut album Illmatic with a live band. The resulting mixtape, cleverly titled Elmatic, saw Elzhi putting his own unique twists on both Nas’s rhymes and the ’90s masterclass beats; Elzhi deftly re-worded some of the more iconic lyrical sequences, keeping the familiar diction and cadences, channeling them to flip Nas’s autobiographical tales into narratives of his own Detroit upbringing. The band embellished on the Ahmad Jamal, Gap Band, and Michael Jackson samples, bringing their musicality to the fore, where previously the drum tracks were the centerpieces of the album.

Elmatic‘s success only highlights how intriguing the idea of hip-hop cover albums truly is. Rap music, despite its reputation as a youth genre with little use for its elder statesmen, has always held a deep reverence for the history, breadth, and depth of Black music. Puffy can sample Diana Ross for a celebratory posthumous Notorious BIG single and Three 6 Mafia can turn a 30-year-old Willie Hutch soundtrack cut into an international players’ anthem, thoroughly disproving the trope that hip-hop doesn’t respect its elders. Rappers and producers simply choose to reinterpret what has already been done. If that’s not the essence of a cover, nothing is.

Nipsey Hussle and Elzhi both understood this, and both were willing to take the plunge, risking the disapproval of hardcore hip-hop heads to salute their musical forebears. That’s to be applauded — and imitated. Hip-hop now has a rich history of its own, just waiting to be mined, paid homage to, and translated into new terms for younger ears that may not be familiar with it, but are certainly much more receptive than they are given credit for. Whether it’s a New York boom-bap standard, a West Coast G-funk essential, or a Dirty South crunk classic, it’s time for hip-hop to begin giving its older albums some fresh looks.

Nipsey Hussle is a Warner Music artist. Uproxx is an independent subsidiary of Warner Music Group.

Police Think Lady Gaga’s Dog May Have Been Intentionally Targeted By The Thieves Who Shot Her Assistant

Police now believe Lady Gaga may have been the target of the thieves who shot her assistant and stole two of her French bulldogs, according to TMZ. The singer is currently offering a half-million-dollar ransom for the safe return of her pets, which may have been the point all along. Using a neighbor’s security video that caught the robbery in progress, police theorize that the assailants were aware of just whose dogs they were taking.

Adding to the fact that the thieves’ white sedan pulls up alongside Gaga’s assistant Ryan Fischer in the video, law enforcement sources told TMZ that Fischer wasn’t exactly secretive about his employer. He told “numerous people” in the neighborhood that the dogs belonged to the singer, so it was seemingly common knowledge. Meanwhile, due to the darkness of the street, police don’t think the thieves would have been able to tell that the dogs were valuable French bulldogs — although dognapping and pet ransom are pretty common in affluent neighborhoods, as residents usually offer rewards for “missing” pets that thieves often return to collect.

However, rarely is a case so high-profile as this one is, or as violent. The fact that Fischer was accosted and shot suggests the thieves may have targeted him specifically, knowing the dogs’ owner was one of the biggest pop stars on the planet and being willing to use extreme measures to get ahold of the ransom money. Further complicating things is the fact that Gaga’s dogs were never chipped, so identifying them if they are sold out-of-state — another common tactic of dognappers — will be very difficult.

Gaga’s father spoke out against the attack on Fox News, saying “Our whole family is upset and praying Koji and Gustavo are not harmed. Help us catch these creeps.”

DaBaby Officially Adds His ‘Freestyle’ Verse To SpotEmGottem’s ‘Beat Box 3’

After brushing off the backlash resulting from his “Beat Box” freestyle, DaBaby officially joins Florida-based, TikTok-favorite, trap rap upstart SpotEmGottem on “Beat Box 3.” While the original “Beat Box” generated a wave of buzz for the 19-year-old rapper and “Beat Box 2” featured Pooh Shiesty and became the basis for a viral TikTok challenge, “Beat Box 3” finally connects SpotEmGottem with the North Carolina superstar who helped bring “Beat Box” to the mainstream with his freestyle.

That freestyle, though, was the subject of some controversy thanks to a throwaway line in which DaBaby name-checks 17-year-old pop star JoJo Siwa. The line, which rhymed the singer’s name with “see why,” posited an imaginary rival as a “bitch,” employing the hashtag flow for a clunky punchline that seemed to either call JoJo a bitch as well, or equate all women with bitches, with the most conveniently rhyming one falling within the category. Either way… not a great use of the form, which is always a danger with the hashtag flow.

Of course, DaBaby — no stranger to Twitter controversy after a couple of years’ worth of call-outs and missteps — dismissed the backlash as a case of wordplay going over listeners’ heads. That isn’t quite what happened here, but by combining his verse with SpotEmGottem’s original, at least SpotEmGottem can hope to benefit from the extra attention, and capitalize on it with his next release.

Listen to “Beat Box 3” above.

Vic Mensa Is Tapping Into A New Level Of Consciousness

When Vic Mensa hops on Zoom with me, he’s riding in the back of an Uber as he heads to his next destination in Chicago’s South Side. It is a slight change of plans, as the rapper was meant to be just arriving from Oklahoma City after visiting death row inmate Julius Jones. But the extreme weather conditions halted plans.

Nevertheless, Mensa is adamant about rescheduling the meeting. “The prison system is the burning hell-fire of America’s death machine,” he explains of advocating Jones and others who are wrongfully convicted. “It’s the nucleus of all oppressions that we talk about, from economic exploitation to and the denial of women’s rights, everything is magnified in the prison walls, you know what I’m saying? So it’s just become a real focus of mine to advocate and dedicate myself to using my energy in any way that I can to bring freedom, especially to those who are incarcerated.”

This determination to shed light on this country’s injustices isn’t new for Mensa. While it may be rare for musicians to truly express themselves in such an explicit manner (and on a mainstream level), last year’s protests (a trigger response to America’s ongoing racism-driven murders) gave many the fuel to speak out. For Mensa, he dropped August’s V TAPE that explored redemption while displaying his masterful emcee skills.

He is following it up with I TAPE (due March 26), a project about the rapper’s quest to help others. Below, Mensa reflects on self-healing, activism, and what’s missing from Black History Month.

When you first started out, you didn’t necessarily show this side of your activism on a major level. When was the moment where you stopped caring about what the mainstream may think?

You know, the things that I rap about now, those are the same things that I was rapping about when I started at 16 years old. I think that it’s just the trajectory of growing up, being in the public eye, and reaching an international level all while being a kid. I started making music feeling the responsibility to really bring truth to the people

Where would you say that came from?

I think it came from my upbringing in Chicago and from the artists that I idolize. The way that I grew up in Chicago, I existed between two realities: I had a lot of privilege, but I was surrounded by the underprivileged. So it was blatantly obvious to me that sh*t was f*cked up. (laughs) I got two parents in the house and I’m blessed like that. My best friend who lives right down the street from me ain’t got a father and his mother’s on drugs, you know. Chicago is just a place that shows you the truth about America. It’s very segregated and there’s no sugar coating.

So in conjunction with the artists I love — Common, Lupe [Fiasco], Kanye [West], Tupac, and Black Star — they instilled in me the value of exposing the cracks and America’s broken meaning with their art, you know what I’m saying? Common taught me about Assata Shakur with “A Song For Assata.” When I was 12 years old, Talib Kwali was rapping lyrics from The Bluest Eye by Toni Morrison, and Kanye West taught us about diamonds from Sierra Leone. Studying those artists in the way that I did, it made me feel not only like a responsibility, but it was fresh. I aspire to inform and open people’s minds with my music.

I’m curious if the rebellion in your music comes from your love for punk rock.

You know what? One of my biggest inspirations is Rage Against The Machine. Just one of the greatest groups. Rap is punk in a lot of ways. I mean, it’s a counter-culture depiction of working-class realities. They share the fact that generations before them denied the musical value of either one. Rappers are undoubtedly the new rock stars. What categorizes the rock stars? Newspaper headlines, the drugs, and the dying young. I don’t see a distinction between the two. I mention Rage Against The Machine, because Zack de la Rocha is literally just one of the best rappers to me.

He comes from a hardcore background and is rapping over Led Zeppelin riffs. When he’s like [raps 1996’s “People Of The Sun] “Since fifteen hundred and sixteen, Mayans attacked and overseen.” Or [raps “Down Rodeo”] “A thousand years they had the tools, we should be takin’ ’em. F*ck the G-ride, I want the machines that are makin’ ’em.” He’s rapping about socialism, communist ideas, and Marxism. He’s making references that I haven’t heard anybody else make. I take inspiration from all that sh*t.

I think the beauty of Black music is that it’s “ours.” But then when you look at it from an industry perspective, executives may frame our struggles and our culture as something marketable.

There’s a Ghanian writer, one of the best, a woman named Ama Ata Aidoo. She has a quote that I’ll paraphrase: Since we met you people 500 years ago, you’ve accumulated our wealth, our culture, and what do we have to show for it? Your diamonds, your gold, your music, your dance — everything you are is us.” And it’s the truth. The proliferation of Black culture has created the modern-day pop culture. Pretty much all forms of music and just every turn of culture. I think that’s being accepted as being true more, but it is what it is. You know, I think that hip hop is like specifically, I was talking to Lupe [Fiasco] and Royce Da 5’9’’ about this the other day. Hip-hop is Black pain marketed for white America and the world at large. Obviously we consume hip-hop, but we’re a fraction of the population. Hip-hop is our trauma, but with a publicist behind it.

They’re trying to sell records at the end of the day.

I also feel like hip-hop, oftentimes represents this deep American fantasy, although it at the same time it’s reality. America has a fascination with the fear of Blackness and the Black men as this —

He’s basically seen as boogeyman.

Yeah. The Black man has been this violent criminal and the Black woman is this hypersexual deviant, you know? It’s funny sometimes to just look at hip-hop. I was listening to Mystikal the other day and oftentimes what the lyrics are portraying is what white America has been afraid of the whole time. And you can look at female rappers right now. I ain’t gonna say no names, but think about those archetypes that white America has created in their mind and then listen to the lyrics.

But would you say it’s different because it’s coming from a Black voice who’s owning their agency? Or do you think they’re still perpetuating those stereotypes?

I think both are possible. You know what I’m saying? Hip-hop undoubtedly perpetuates stereotypes. How much of rap music is like [starts rapping], “I’m a cold-blooded killer and no one could top me!” (laughs) Or, “I could pop my p*ssy on a n**** face!” I’m not saying that in judgment of anybody. I’m just saying it as an observation. You could look at Bigger Thomas in [American author] Richard Wright’s Native Son and this idea of an uncontrollable rage of the Black man. You can literally turn on the radio at any moment and hear that exact archetype in rap music. It’s just an observation.

I’m thinking of last summer with all of the protests for George Floyd and Breonna Taylor. June was such a moment for reflection, but also a moment of rage for Black people. So much music that stemmed from that, including your “No More Teardrops.” Outside of your scope, do you think activist-based music will continue or remain a marketable trend?

I think everything moves in cycles and hip-hop is cyclical. There have been moments in time when it was in style to comment on the real-life conditions of other people. And then there have been other moments in time when it was way more in style to just shuck and jive. I mean, I do feel that things are not going back to any sense of normal. Not that there ever was really a normal because the entire existence of Black people in America is just abnormal.

But now they’re just waking up to it all of a sudden like racism wasn’t around before.

Like this sh*t wasn’t going down. But I feel like certain curtains have been pulled back that I don’t know if they can be reinstated and people can pretend that it’s all good again. I think that in hip-hop there’s always going to be people that are talking about real sh*t. It was definitely dope in the past year to see artists that you usually wouldn’t expect to make those types of songs doing that. I thought that that was fresh. I don’t know, I can’t predict the future. But I know that hip-hop will always be like a form of journalism for our real experience, amongst many other things.

I often wonder how do we balance the line of not being too performative, but also being genuine in our messages.

That idea really started to occur to me in the last year. I’ve been dedicating my energy towards revolutionary causes and social initiatives for years. And more recently — obviously there has been a huge community of people doing these things for 60 years, 70 years — it’s become more popular. Five years ago when I was popping up in Flint, Michigan handing out water and doing music about that. I wasn’t dealing with people’s accusations of being performative. But now it’s definitely become more trendy. I’ve had to think about those things a lot more. Because in the activism spaces in Chicago I’ve gotten a lot of hate more recently and had to like think twice and three times: “Is this gonna look like performative? Like I’m doing something for clout?”

It’s like you said, you’ve been doing it for years. So it’s coming from a genuine place. But people may look at Vic Mensa as just a celebrity.

I ain’t going to lie though, no good deed goes unpunished too. I’ve definitely learned that whatever you do, especially as a person with some type of social capital or impact, you’re going to be met with criticism. And that’s not necessarily a bad thing at all. But being a cis-gender male artist in these spaces you definitely just gotta be cautious of the optics. It’s something I’ve just tried to learn through my experiences. How do I shed light on the people that may be doing work and not getting the same exposure or celebration that I might get? How do I shed light on those people that don’t get posted on The Shade Room when they do something positive? People that are really doing this sh*t in the streets, living this sh*t day in and day out.

Your SaveMoneySaveLife initiative helps give people who don’t have a social platform a space to share. Like the Street Medix program, for example, where people can learn how to recover from tear gases at protests.

I was in Palestine and I met a kid who was part of an organization that was doing the exact same program. They raised X amount of dollars and were able to train and provide equipment for, I don’t know, 50 medics in Gaza because the Gaza Strip is obviously a f*cking war zone. It made me think instantly of another warzone: Chicago. I want to bring this program back to Chicago. So I went back to the crib and I started making moves to put the program together.

There’s organizations all over the world doing it. But I learned that there was an organization that was only one degree of separation away from me [in Chicago]. Shout out to them, their name is Ujimaa Medics. There’s a woman named Amika Big Tree Tendaji who has been doing amazing work in that space. So I tried to see, “How can I collaborate with y’all? How can we expand this?” The collaboration didn’t work out and next thing I know I’m being dragged and accused of co-opting someone else’s movement. I’m like, “Yo, I got this idea from halfway across the globe, man. I had no intention of co-opting anybody.”

Again, it goes back to having that celebrity platform.

That’s what I’m saying. I was just trying to address a need, you know what I mean? But I found myself getting sh*tted on for literally for trying to do something good, ‘cause that’s how this goes. But shout out Ujimaa, they have amazing sh*t and continue to do so.

Shifting a bit here, watching your “Shelter” video made me very emotional. When you put all your pain, frustration, and sadness in your music, it can feel confronting. How do you maintain that balance of processing trauma in a healthy way?

I believe that the intention that you put into art has immense significance and impacts the way that people are affected by it. When we made the “Shelter” music video it specifically has that healing property. So something like that doesn’t weigh on me emotionally, it helps me. I think any music that I make that’s emotionally impactful, it helps me to process pain.

Speaking of healing, I know you recently went to Ghana for a trip. Your dad is from Ghana, so did it help you find answers?

I’m blessed that I have a great connection with my ancestors, which has been stolen from a lot of Black Americans. As I grow, I just become more aware of the necessity of keeping in touch and the power of that. America so f*cking stressful, you know, and it don’t matter if you on the Southside, Brooklyn, South Central. So I do believe I was going there searching for a sense of peace. I felt far more peaceful when I was there. Communication with ancestors is like a big part of my culture and my Ashanti people [an ethnic group in Ghana]. It just ingrained in me how important it is that I be there regularly. There’s a lot more soul searching to do. I should have somewhere that I can go to be outside of this chaos and that is great.

Our chat is running at the end of Black History Month, but I know a lot of Black people have different thoughts about the month. Do you think it matters anymore or should we be celebrating it differently?

100 percent, we should be celebrating Black History Month. It reminds me of public school. I went through 12 years of public school and there was one class that I had to opt into. It was the one elective where I learned about African-American history or anything. And I went to school with at least half — if not more than half — Black people. But we spent the whole time learning about Eurocentric things. We had British literature class, obviously that’s all white people. AP literature, all white people. We’re learning about Rome, England, France and even go down to South America and Asia.

But they skip an entire continent.

They skip Africa entirely. I resented school for that for as long as I could really remember being cognizant of these things. I was acutely aware of their omission of my history. Even the Black history that we’ve learned begins with slavery and ends with the civil rights movement. Being Ghanian, I’m like “You motherf*ckers are finessing us!”

It’s all revisionist history.

Yeah. ‘Cause I’m learning about this history in my house. You know, Mansa Mussa of the Mali Empire.

Those are things this society doesn’t want us Black people knowing about.

That’s what I’m saying. They don’t want you to know about the medieval castles that were built in Zimbabwe. They want to depict it as being [made by] white people. They want Cleopatra to be Angelina Jolie. They don’t want you to know that the first pyramid builders were Black men. So Black History Month reminds me of public school because we got 12 motherf*cking months. And during one of them is there any emphasis put on our history. And even then it’s like, I haven’t heard much discussion of African history in Black History Month. By 2050, one out of four people on planet earth are projected to be African.

How do you fit damn near a quarter of the world’s population and their history in one month? I hate seeing schools say, “Tell children’s parents they can opt out of Black History Month. Shaun King said something I liked: “If they could opt out of that, then let us opt out of theirs.” I recognize that denial of people’s history and people’s contributions to civilization is a tactic of oppression and white supremacy. So any opportunity in which we get to share our narrative, I think it’s important.

I TAPE is out March 26 via Roc Nation.

Vic Mensa Delivers A Defiant Performance Of ‘Shelter’ On ‘The Late Show’

Chicago rapper Vic Mensa appeared on The Late Show With Stephen Colbert to perform a medley of new songs, “Shelter” and “FR33DOM.” Recruiting “Shelter” guest Wyclef Jean and longtime Windy City collaborator Peter Cottontale, Vic’s prerecorded performance finds him performing from the floor of an empty warehouse and visually condemning the prison system. For the second half of the performance, red highlighting accentuates a riotous rendition of the defiant “FR33DOM.”

Both songs are due to appear on Vic’s upcoming EP, I TAPE, the follow-up to last year’s V TAPE. The activist/rapper revealed the I TAPE due date via a press release after the performance: March 26. It’s clear that Vic is building up to a larger project, so a C TAPE can’t be very far behind that.

“Shelter,” I TAPE‘s first single, featured the reunion of Vic and his musical brother-in-arms Chance The Rapper. The two rappers came up at the same open mic together and had parallel career tracks early on, but when Chance’s Coloring Book took off, the two apparently had a falling out that lasted for several years. In the meantime, Vic released an experimental punk album, became an outspoken critic of various US policies, and even visited Palestine, deciding to recommit to the social justice cause and apparently getting back to his musical roots. You can read more in Uproxx’s new interview with Vic Mensa here.

Watch Vic Mensa’s The Late Show performance of “Shelter” and “FR33DOM” above.

I TAPE is out 3/26 on Roc Nation.

Bryson Tiller’s ‘Like Clockwork’ Video Sends A Sharp Warning To His Haters

Bryson Tiller once said, “I’m back and I’m better,” and those words couldn’t be truer at the moment. After more than three years without music, the Louisville singer seemed to find his footing in the music world as he returned with his Anniversary album back in October. For those who believed the project would lead to another lengthy break, the singer is back to prove otherwise. Tiller returned with the deluxe version of Anniversary on Friday, one that adds five new songs and a guest appearance from Big Sean to the album. In addition to that, fans have also received a vibrant video for “Like Clockwork.”

Tiller uses the visual to take viewers through what a normal day looks like for him. From signing autographs for fans and making business decisions with his team to photoshoots and well-deserved downtime with friends, the singer gets through it all “like clockwork.” Further into the video, Tiller flaunts an impenetrable shield of confidence while taking direct shots at his haters and doubters. The track itself sends a clear warning to his opposition that his down days are over and he’s back to make up for the time he was gone.

The Anniversary deluxe will most likely be the last release fans of Tiller receive before he drops his long-awaited Serenity album. Early this month, the singer confirmed that the project would be a triple-disc effort featuring a rap side, an R&B side, and a pop side.

Watch the “Like Clockwork” video above.

Anniversary (Deluxe) is out now via RCA. Get it here.