News

Cambridge Residents Slam Council Proposal to Delay Bike Lane Construction

News

‘Gender-Affirming Slay Fest’: Harvard College QSA Hosts Annual Queer Prom

News

‘Not Being Nerds’: Harvard Students Dance to Tinashe at Yardfest

News

Wrongful Death Trial Against CAMHS Employee Over 2015 Student Suicide To Begin Tuesday

News

Cornel West, Harvard Affiliates Call for University to Divest from ‘Israeli Apartheid’ at Rally

"Rise of an Empire" Falls Short

Young Money-Rise of an Empire-Young Money-1.5 STARS

By David J. Kurlander, Crimson Staff Writer

Dwayne Carter Jr., better known as Lil Wayne, has always been a bit of a nihilist. Even in the heady days of “Tha Carter III,” he was prone to moments of monotonality and verses about nothing. But ever since Young Money began its rapid personnel expansion in 2009, Carter has chosen to rap about women, drugs, and how great Young Money is. In features like Drake’s “HYFR” and Mystikal’s “Original,” Carter showed that he can still paint colorful and provocative lyrical statements, and many of his signees, Drake paramount among them, work with broad thematic palettes. That being said, Carter and Young Money’s general aesthetic, which continues in full force on the new label compilation “Young Money: Rise of an Empire,” values familiar punnery and swag more than depth. The only change from last year’s “Rich Gang” is the increased nastiness and antagonism with which the label expresses its sexual and financial dominance. While the lyrical meanness of “Rise of an Empire” adds a layer of novelty to Young Money’s repetitiveness, it only makes their incessant and uncreative braggadocio harder to swallow and succeeds—however improbably—in fostering nostalgia for the ebullience of their “BedRock” days of 2009.

Unlike Young Money’s prior compilations, Carter lets his artists do most of the work on “Rise of an Empire.” His absence opens the door for both the label’s heavyweights and several new voices. Disappointingly, however, established stars Drake, Nicki Minaj, and Tyga only occasionally manage to craft interesting contributions. Minaj and Tyga’s track “Senile” comes closest to what Carter likely envisioned for the mood and effect of the album. The duo imbues the diss track with a lyrical terseness and efficiency that complements the venom of their verses, amplifying Tyga’s fiery query to other rappers of “Can you see now? / Are you senile?” Tyga especially embraces the staccato standoffishness of the track, dramatically lowering the pitch of his voice to heighten his intimidation factor. If all the tracks on the album managed to capture the raw energy of Tyga and Minaj’s anger, the album would be a far more cohesive unit.

Unfortunately, however, Minaj’s other track illustrates the inconsistency of the spiteful vibe that reemerges many times over the course of the album. In “Lookin Ass Nigga,” Minaj drops the line “I’m rapin’ you niggas / Look at this pic, look what the fuck I gave to you niggas.” While shock rap and general belligerence can be riveting, the lack of creativity in Minaj’s presentation and the straightforward and overly calm beat make the sentiment repellent. Even though Minaj falters in her unnecessary injection of sexually violent lyrics, she still does a better job than most of Carter’s new talent. Gudda Gudda, a longtime Lil Wayne collaborator and former member of Squad Up, is similarly egregious in the lack of thematic backing or consistency behind his violent and sexist wordplay—he doesn’t seem to be providing commentary or subverting any pre-existing artistic or social stereotypes. The content is not explicit by Young Money’s relatively high established threshold, but on “Rise of an Empire” it seems at its most pointless. While Carter has had some success (though little here) in making asinine images entertaining and funny, his protégés don’t have the control of dynamics or lyrics to make their offensiveness at all thought-provoking.

The only one of Young Money’s new voices who is exciting is the baby-voiced Providence, RI rapper Euro, who is also the hitherto-unknown star of the album and a sudden prospect in the rap game. A brand-new signee who came out of nowhere, the 23-year-old raps throughout most of the opening track, “We Alright,” and the entirety of “Induction Speech,” an honest examination of Euro’s emotions as he gains recognition. While “I think I’m getting wasted tonight / I’ve realized that I’ve made it tonight,” should come off as a trite rehash of every rapper’s “arrival moment,” Euro brings so much feeling into the words that they feel new.

One can only hear so many 808s without forgetting how diverse real drums—and even a wider spectrum of drum machines—can be. The booming trap bass that intertwines with the ethereal female vocals on “Induction Speech” is an incredibly necessary relief from the monotony of the rest of the production. The only other consistently engaging track besides “Senile” and “Induction Speech,” Drake’s triumphant horn-infused anthem “Trophies,” also has softer and more varied backing. For the most part, however, the flamboyant beats are generic and obnoxiously layered.

While Euro and Carter’s other established stars provide some hope for Young Money, the dearth of playfulness and overwrought anger of the project doesn’t lead to any sort of effective alteration to their stale sound. When, midway through his only prolonged verse on the album, Carter brags, “I can’t remember my last drought,” it couldn’t be further from the truth.

—Staff writer David J. Kurlander can be reached at david.kurlander@thecrimson.com.

Want to keep up with breaking news? Subscribe to our email newsletter.

Tags
MusicArts