"Oxymoron" An Exhilarating One-Note Romp

By COURTESY Top Dawg

When “Collard Greens,” Schoolboy Q’s first single from his second album, “Oxymoron,” was released almost a year ago, it was clear that featured artist Kendrick Lamar was under strict orders from Schoolboy to do something a little bit different. For one, the song is an unapologetic weed-smoking anthem, although Kendrick spent his first two studio albums, “Section.80” and “Good Kid, M.A.A.D. City,” discussing negative experiences with marijuana and his desire to be free from chemical dependence. It’s not surprising when the eternally irresponsible Schoolboy raps, “Smoke this/ drink this/ straight to my liver,” but when the usually ruminative, or at least complicated, Kendrick responds with, “I’m famous / I blame this on you / cash in the mirror,” he announces his label mate’s de facto mission to explore base instincts and yearnings over deeper content and lyricism. Schoolboy’s aesthetic—brash, abrasive, and concise—even dominates K.Dot’s, the reigning king of wordplay. The result of Schoolboy’s choice to revel in sin, “Oxymoron”—a pulsating, aggressive beast that makes his first release look like easy listening music—is a sonically impressive but somewhat emotionally stunted and one-dimensional mix of trap beats, violent verses, and vague tales of L.A. street life.

The punny album title can be read as a cleverly packaged announcement that Schoolboy likes “oxy” (oxycotin, along with many other drugs, judging from the album’s constant invocations of lean, crack, and a bevy of prescription pills) and is kind of a moron. Perhaps Schoolboy means something more intellectual by the name, but it works well for what he presents; the album is at its best when he allows himself to give in completely to both of these identifiers. The “upper” songs, like the opener “Gangsta,” are filled with big beats, drug-heavy lyrics, and repetitivwe mantras that substitute for more structured choruses. The organized chaos of “Gangsta,” which revolves around a call-and-response of “knock knock knock,” and “gangsta shit, gangsta shit,” is exhilarating. Schoolboy boasts about what The Notorious B.I.G. poetically referred to as “gats and stuff,”  his presence just barely fitting the cadence of the lumbering and rhythmically bombastic backing track. Highlights “Man of the Year” and “Blind Threats” follow in this track’s footsteps, to intimidating and effective results.

When Schoolboy Q attempts to inject melody or lyrical subtlety into the project, however, his verses come off as trite and often laughable. Although seemingly unapologetic about his drug use for the vast majority of the album, Schoolboy ventures into mopey addiction territory with “Prescription/Oxymoron,” a two-part polemic on his attempts to stop selling crack and blacking out off of his cocktail of prescriptions. The song reveals the limitations of Schoolboy’s lyricism; although he racks up a far higher word count over the course of the epic, he sounds restrained, unsure of his message, and more focused on being bummed out about drugs than spinning an emotionally varied tale. When he laments, “My mommy call, I hit ignore / my daughter calls, I press ignore” he comes off more maudlin than soul-bearing.

Thankfully, few other songs on the album fall into the rabbit hole of negative self-analysis. The energetic and aesthetically consistent beats, created by producers as diverse as Tyler, the Creator and The Alchemist, beg for twisted tales of L.A. sin far more than confessionals. Most of the beats aren’t especially melodic or sample-heavy, and when they are, the results are often disastrous. Although “Los Awesome” manages to pull off a dissonant outro reminiscent of Kanye West’s “Hold My Liquor,” the bonus track, “His & Her Friend,” which attempts to recapture the murky aesthetic, is blatantly imitative and out of place. The grittier and more percussive the beats are, the better. The group of beats that lay the foundation for the bangers are influenced by trap music, an increasingly popular sound identified by 808s and loud drums, intricate beat changes, and heavily layered synth. This is by far the most trap-influenced work by anyone affiliated with Black Hippy as of yet, and is a medium that has potential for Schoolboy’s ability to switch up tempos and bring the loud.

Schoolboy is obviously not an especially happy guy. In February, he went public about his ongoing real-life codeine addiction and often appears drugged out and nihilistic during interviews. “Oxymoron” is certainly effective when it’s angry, but it’s least convincing when it wanders into the down-tempo and sad, which suggests a lot of room for range expansion and emotional growth for the artist. As long as Schoolboy can only create honest and kinetic music when shying away from his demons—a decidedly anti-Kendrick trait—he will never compete with Black Hippy’s superstar. But if he manages to counter his raw and rough side with real emotion and find an effective sound with which to attempt this transformation, he can rise to the elite of the TDE Crew and the rap game.

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