Art via Evan Solano
Ant shall bring disaster to evil factors.
“Starburst” is a two-parter that starts off as a reflection on Danny Brown’s newfound drug and alcohol-free serenity. The first suite finds him rapping motivational quotes and references to Friday and Ginsu knives over a loop akin to “Where Are U Now”. For a moment or two, it appears to lack the first jolt of smelling salts eye-widening that every previous lead single in his catalog has brought on.
That is, until the blood starts dripping from his mouth, his toned physique starts swirling into a digitized tornado of nanobots within his sweaty oxygen chamber, and every atom within the beat begins twitching in every direction.
As far as the Big Discourse around the record, the list of his chosen collaborators caused backhanded praise from the overly nerdy r/hiphopheads kids, and confusion at a lack of features from the old gang of Rocky, ScHoolboy or Ab-Soul from the people who are generally tapped out of the waxing and waning of contemporary rap.
The truth is Danny Brown is a true blue internet age music nerd who is definitely familiar with the world of Reddit threads and AlbumOfTheYear, so him working with the likes of Frost Children and Quadeca isn’t that shocking. I know it’s been a while for most of us, so let’s skim the credits on his past albums as a family: Charlie XCX, Purity Ring, Holly (who produced this single), A-Trak, Kelela, Blood Orange, Obonjayar, the list goes on.
On the first single from Stardust, he’ll still rapping with the hunger of an MC who made his bones with unkempt cornrows while releasing songs with Tony Yayo, but he’s earned the freedom to let loose in a warehouse party every once in a while, too.
The way these saw synths crawl higher out of nothingness to pulse in concert with the slow building snare line whipped me back to simpler times where Drake couldn’t grow a beard, thick black rimmed glasses and knitted beanies were high fashion, and MMG were the kings of the world.
Back to the future we go, where YT’s rugged 8-bit autotune croaks out bars of defeat as he tries to snare the heart of a woman who I can only image has something like “wanderlust🌴✈️” in her bio. Yeah he’s overjoyed to flex a beautiful cultured woman on his arm, but you hear the pain through his smile as he says lines like “so hard to impress / you’ve already been everywhere” before listing every major city in the Northern Hemisphere that houses multiple Michelin-starred restaurants that he can no longer waste time planning a couples getaway in. Aye man, we’ve all been there. Just put the credit card info in and make those minimum payments brodie.
1900Rugrat’s Freshman phenom hot streak is comparable to Malik Monk on Kentucky basketball’s 2016 roster, which is to say even among a group of All-Stars he’s still the one you can trust to take the toughest shots and make ‘em. In a one-on-one showdown with the Holy Ghost of Michigan Shit Talkers aka Rio Da Yung OG, on a boat packed to the propeller with strippers, Rugrat did the impossible by blind siding me with a bar so outlandish it made me forget Rio was on the song. By sheer probability RMC Mike and Krispy Life Kidd have pulled off this same Herculean feat, but I struggle to remember anything catching me off guard the way “I think the glock got breast cancer, it got one titty” did. It’s his 47 and a game winner versus UNC. Goddamn Malik was cold.
Every location in this video (which I’m assuming is around Sam Wise’s native South London) could be the set piece in a creepypasta. Under a CCTV camera in the wee hours of the night in an undisclosed neighborhood, a dimly lit bus stop in Mudchute, within a ratty train platform you name it, all perfect spots for a shadow creature to pop out and tug you into an underground lair of despair. Luckily, through a whispery tension riddled rotation of beats, Sam’s stoney demeanor acts as a grounding force on the set of a would-be slasher flick. He gains swagger the longer the track plays out, ripping exes and calling, “hipster chicks to come south,” building from timid boy lost on his lonesome to a poised playboy beaming from under his raincoat. The cockiness reaches full bloom only once the icy production melts away and an impromptu freestyle breaks out over a new track that mimics a looped up werewolf howl.
With his own swirling plugg-adjacent earworm melodies that bounce in and out of your short term memory, Minneapolis’ seventhirtyatmorning is building a case before our eyes to be the next long-locced stoner we claim as “Up Next.” But it’s not just his preternatural ability to sniff out the perfect top line melody construction, it’s translating the same nonchalant cool guy aura every fashionsito Zoomer wants to exude on IG flawlessly on record. Fine shyt’s waiting for his arrival? Make ‘em wait. Overstuffed pockets? Duh. Sneezing before he pulls his mask down? C’est la vie. When the world beats at your pace, no matter how bad the traffic is, you’ll pull up at the perfect moment, even if it’s many hours after your promised arrival.
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