They can’t all be score record-breakers…
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[4.38]
Alfred Soto: Swif D’s spare, welcome production evokes “West Savannah” as much as “Bitch, Don’t Kill My Vibe”: a not-quite nether world from which the rapper reaches to the first piece of ass in sight. Cruel or kind — Schoolboy couldn’t be bothered. Even “put my tongue in different places” he wipes clean of erotic threat. It fascinates me how this guy also came up with the indefatigable “Man of the Year,” and it’s THIS song that’s crossed over.
[6]
Micha Cavaseno: Rap by numbers by a guy who can do much better and has on his last album. TDE World is a funny thing. Quincy provides a generic music industry rap album with no significance beyond hitting all bases to be “alternative.” Meanwhile, Ab-Soul — a rapper who I would prefer shipped into the San Andreas fault on a bullet train to hell for being so tedious and awful — released a record that refused to compromise, and got no rewards. For a label so dedicated to showcasing talent, I’m beginning to wonder if these boys are content to return to the land of the generic 2DopeBoyz filler they used to churn out back before their come-up.
[4]
Patrick St. Michel: “No metaphors, nothing like that/I’m keeping it straight to the point with you,” Schoolboy Q says, and thank goodness for that. I was afraid this was going to be some cheesy “I’m trying to reach you from the studio, the audience” thing. Nope — dude just really wants to fuck, and he is not hiding that fact even if he gets clumsy about it (not sure he’s ever actually played Operation). A little on the plodding side, though.
[6]
Thomas Inskeep: “All night layin’ verses, though I’d rather lay with you baby”: it’s kind of amazing that it’s taken this long for someone to re-write KISS’s “Beth” as a hip-hop track. It’d be nice if Schoolboy Q and BJ thought that women were more than pussy, but based on this song, they don’t. So fuck them, or more accurately, don’t.
[1]
Katherine St Asaph: After chorus two of twentyumptybillion I was ready to complain that Q should probably stop noodling in the studio with the water-level opulence and do something, then that something turned out to be talking about sex. Which would be fine! Until “put my tongue in different places, play a game of Operation,” which is just Weeping Cock levels of bad sex (you mean… you can’t mean… yanking stuff out with tweezers? Just kind of hovering there and never touching anything?) and doesn’t improve with clarification. No metaphors, please.
[3]
Brad Shoup: Sticking all that crooning up top is a bold move — and a nice gift to BJ, who’s been puttering around for a while now — but it’s death for the song as a whole. But if you’ve got the kind of sex rhymes Q’s working with, a little stalling’s not a bad idea. The ghost of a chipmunk vocal inhabits the mix; maybe he’ll play around with it next time.
[4]
Andy Hutchins: What “Studio” has going for it isn’t insignificant. The vocal sample distorted to the point of keening sets apart what would otherwise be a tempo-boosted version of the underwater drum-based production 40 was making for Drake three years ago, and underdog of the decade BJ is capable and honest on the hook. This sounds like nothing else on the rap radio station I listen to right now, and it deserves compliments for being complementary. This does not, alas, afford it so much leeway that I will forget Q barely trying on the dismount of the second verse (“No metaphors, nuttin’ like that, I’m keepin’ it straight to the point wit’ you / (So) I’ma put this dick up all inside of you”) and ruining the mood.
[6]
Crystal Leww: I don’t think I spend enough time driving on highways late at night anymore to love this song as much as I could. It’s very chill, very good vibes, but also very one-note.
[5]