Do we like French rap more when it’s depressive? You would think so, and yet…
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[4.71]
Cédric Le Merrer: The first thing that strikes with PNL is their utter boorishness. They rap like one orders a grec. Their lyrics are full of rote misogyny and overdone Scarface references. But they’re striking rather than bored because they’re delivered in a profoundly depressed way — they use autotune like Suicide used reverb. Apart from the occasional self-aware line (“I lie when I say I’m alright”), it’s mostly musically that they convey their utter disillusionment — they’re greedy nihilists and misogynistic brutes who are actually sad to be so. I can’t say that redeems them in any way, but they provide a fascinating look into the abyss.
[7]
Thomas Inskeep: Goddamn, this sounds great, like Tricky on a codeine bender getting chopped-n-screwed, utterly narcotic. Shame the lyrics are kinda Eminem-level-ugly, then, including a “big faggot” line in the chorus that gets repeated. Music [8], lyrics [0], but I can’t even split the difference.
[3]
Jonathan Bogart: I’m happy to cop to being a reverse chauvinist who will give props to French guys that he won’t give to the Weeknd for doing the exact same thing.
[6]
Micha Cavaseno: French is still one of the worst languages to hear raps delivered in, and fake-Drake levels of pomp are terrible in almost any and every language, so there you go.
[2]
Edward Okulicz: Some French rap I’ve heard I’ve quite enjoyed, because the flow of the language is quite something to behold when it assails you at several syllables per second. The introspective, moody pace of this is less than ideal; vowels clip themselves into awkward shapes. Where the consonants build up until there’s three mouthfuls’ worth, that’s when it breaks a bit through the doomy haze, but it’s a bit of a dull slog.
[4]
Katherine St Asaph: The track is ugly-gorgeous; the words are ugly-ugly, more so than baseline. Extra point because someone else probably is or will make more palatable music that sounds exactly like this.
[6]
Will Adams: I’ll always enjoy listening to French lyrics to some degree, if only for the opportunity to tell myself that my proficiency in the language hasn’t atrophied that much since I stopped studying it. But “Oh Lala”‘s bleak, Hell’s bells trap weighs heavy like a shapeless gray sky.
[5]