When a new artist is anointed as a leader for the next generation of MCs, that strain can become too much to bear. Beset by expectations that everything they drop has to be a seminal entry into their discography and left with little room to conduct low-stakes experiments, the weight of prospective greatness can be heavy baggage. In some cases, it can even lead to hefty delays, premature and unpolished projects simply seeking to capitalize on buzz, or, in the most severe cases, squandered potential.
In spite of the myriad of co-signs from legends, peers, and everyone in-between, Maryland’s own Cordae has proven himself to carry what could be the burden of a “prodigy” as though it were insignificant. He first captured imaginations with his freestyle over Eminem’s iconic “My Name is” and then doubled down by presenting a rebuttal to J. Cole’s “1985” that pleaded for dialogue between two sides of the generational gap, and the former YBN member has been doing his utmost to let the world know that he’s no flash in the plan.
The proprietor of his own label– the recently launched Hi-Level– at just 25 and hellbent on “becoming the biggest, most influential artist” that’ll have “the next artist in 2035” say that they were influenced by him, skeptics feared that he attempted to run before he could walk.
Nonetheless, his second full-length project is an album that not only equals what he achieved on 2019’s The Lost Boy, but points to the crucial artistic and internal growth that’s taken place in the years in between.
After touchingly allocating the beginning of his record to allow an incarcerated friend to freestyle “Shiloh’s Interlude,” the record begins in earnest with the riveting groove of “Jean Michel.”
This introductory track serves as a mission statement for how Cordae plans to proceed from here on out; his aggravation is clear when he speaks of being “underrated, overrated, I’m tired of the nonsense.” Intent on becoming undeniable, Cordae summarizes his own tactful approach to the game when he proclaims “what’s life without sacrifice? And you just wasting talent if you never strategize.”
A blistering 2:44 barrage of penmanship and lyrical profundities, it’s one of many tracks on From A Birds Eye View in which his exquisite wordplay and intricate rhyme schemes become so commonplace that you could be lulled into overlooking the sheer level of skill.
Capable of prolonging a rhyme pattern to levels where other rappers would likely fall into monotony, Cordae’s ability to meld slick bars with digestible, radio-ready flows effectively comes across on “Super.” The Gunna-assisted “Today,” much like tracks such as “Kung Fu” before it, is a clear indication that when he wants to, he can float over a melodic beat as well as anyone.
But if any stylistic trope from the album should be further honed and prioritized in the future, it’s his knack for crafting irresistibly smooth, soul-tinged jams.
Alongside Lil Durk, “Chronicles” with H.E.R sees him coax the global star out of her comfort zone to wondrous effect. While on Cordae’s part, he finally unleashes those soothing vocal chops that had occasionally appeared on the peripheries of his output. With production overseen by Boi-1da, it’s a track that feels predestined to be felt further afield and, with the proper promotion, could grant him the breakout commercial single that’s proved elusive up until this point.
On the Jake-One helmed “Want From Me,” Cordae delves even further into the realm of futuristic neo-soul in order to look at the innate complexities of intimate relationships, spitting, “woman was made from the man’s rib that’s why we can’t live, you be the judge but ain’t no uncle Phil without an Aunt Viv.”
Although much of the production falls to longtime collaborator Kid Culture, and he does an admirable job throughout, Cordae’s real potential is exhibited in the instances when he branches out of familiar rhythms. While this sophomore record is engaging from end-to-end and deserved all of its commendations, the only real drawback is that certain songs lack a unique selling point– leaving Cordae to potentially get lumped into a growing list of artists that can indisputably rhyme but are better known for standout rhyming couplets than cohesive projects.
The contemporary influences that seemed to be a sticking point for some on The Lost Boy are still very much worn on his sleeve with FABEV. Except this time around, they feel far more organic. So, while nods to Kendrick and Cole are overt on the reflective “Momma’s Hood” and “C Carter” respectively, it feels less like he’s culling from their catalog in the ways that Logic was often critiqued for, and more like he’s formally staking his claim to be able to mix it up with the best of them.
Delivered with sorrow to spare, the former sees Cordae speak of the ache and conflict in his soul after the loss of his close friend Pit, declaring that he “couldn’t really live with him, now I’m livin’ without him. And you was just here with us listenin’ to the new album. Told me that it was a classic, better than my last shit.”
Racked with survivor’s guilt and the identifiable pain of watching a loved one turn to memories, it makes for one of the most candid moments of not just the record, but Cordae’s entire catalog to date.
Meanwhile, the Lil Wayne-aided “Sinister” proves that he is undaunted by being in the midst of greats. Over a pulsating Hit-Boy beat, Cordae and Tunechi provide a lyrical masterclass that is sure to have even the most ardent denier of Cordae’s skills reluctantly bobbing their heads.
Although aligning Freddie Gibbs and Stevie Wonder– in the form of a harmonica solo– on the same track may sound like the stuff of fantasy warfare, the luxurious “Champagne Glasses” allows Cordae a moment to stop and smell the roses that he’s obtained before album closer “Westlake High” takes him back into the realm of reminiscence and startlingly honest storytelling. Built around immaculate samples of Linda Jones’ 1967 confessional “What’ve I Done (To Make You Mad)”, the track uses a string of hypotheticals and personal anecdotes in order to illustrate how his journey to fame could’ve been derailed at any point.
Pledging to “do this music shit at the absolute highest level for a long-ass time,” this statement will, like anything in hip-hop, be subject to the whims of his audience. Armed with another accomplished and determined body of work to his name, From A Birds Eye View has vindicated Cordae’s innate self-belief– one that allows him to sequence an Eminem feature as a mere bonus track– as well as the admiration that he receives from those at the very top of the game.
Granted, it’s not the classic that likely lurks within him, but it’s certainly enough to ratify his position as one of the finest young minds in hip-hop today.