Pöst Malöne…

[Video]
[3.14]

Nortey Dowuona: OK. I’m about to hear Posty actually rap. Here we go. [listens] Well, it’s nice to know that Whole Lotta Red will actually be influential. Unfortunately, since the writing on that album wasn’t very good, the only interesting part of it was the vocal madness. That can easily be copied. Look at all the Young Thug children racking up Eminem kid collabs and Internet Millions. But Posty deciding to pull out the Vocal Fry since there is very little “there” there is not surprising, it’s just disappointing that most folks will immediately call it innovative and game changing when PEACE and Self Jupiter did all this but better and better written back before any of us were born. BTW, Posty needs to go do indie rock like he was supposed to and stop glomming off rap’s cool if he thinks it’s so shallow. Get your friendly ass on.
[0]

Ian Mathers: Oh, he’s still rapping? Cool, cool. Nah, no big plans, pretty quiet weekend. Kind of need it. You?
[3]

Alfred Soto: Something’s got him excited: he’s given up pronouncing vowels in the expected places. The aqueous production suggests depths he cheerfully won’t plumb.
[5]

Wayne Weizhen Zhang: Dully pounding and without substance, not unlike water dripping from a rusty faucet. The horrid rapping on “Motley Crew” makes me miss pop-rock Post Malone, something that I didn’t know was possible. 
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Oliver Maier: You would be forgiven for balking at the idea of Post Malone trying to imitate Playboi Carti (I believe the academic term is “Keefkaesque.”) Truth is, it’s fine, “weird” in a stiff sort of way but perfectly digestible. Extra credit awarded for “Where is my roof? Mysterious.”
[6]

Andrew Karpan: Heavy is the crown that Posty wears, the last serious American pop artist to straddle the line between classic rock and its post-rawk future. Yet his interest in retro-vampirism carries a lack of refinement or effort that’s ultimately essential to how it works. The careers of far superior rappers are littered with unlistenable guitar fare, but who didn’t have the canniness to accomplish the same effect by burying a Tommy Lee drum workout or just naming a hard rap record “Motley Crew.” The bars and delivery of the aforementioned are less exciting — the switched up flow is less interesting the more you think about it and brings to mind only mixtape Drake: the reminder that pure range is no replacement for an idea. 
[5]

Thomas Inskeep: If you’re going to name your single “Motley Crew,” and you have more tats than Mötley Crüe’s four members combined, shouldn’t said single bear at least a passing resemblance to the hair metal gods? Shouldn’t it have at least a little of their DNA? But instead, alas, Posty proves yet again how empty his “talent” is, releasing instead a trap-pop record Auto-Tuned into oblivion. This doesn’t have a single redeeming quality. Not one.
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