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Prescription-drug corruption is avant-garde hip-hop’s not-so-secret shame; for every anniversary of the aloof embrace of Xanax and the like, there’s addition adventure of a activity destroyed by the stuff. The two above hip-hop releases of this anniversary — Kanye West amateur Travis Scott’s green flat album Birds in the Allurement Sing McKnight and Kendrick Lamar associate Isaiah Rashad’s admission album The Sun’s Tirade — allegorize the opposing ends of the spectrum of pill-era hip-hop hedonism. Scott trips through a rager darkly on Birds in the Trap’s “Coordinate,” while Rashad uses Tirade’s “Stuck in the Mud” to parlay a allegory about car troubles into a brainwork about the alcoholism and prescription-drug addiction that about concluded his career.
Travis Scott is article of a adolescent rap abettor provocateur. His music, area any specific acceptation can be gleaned from the camera cycle of abandoned affair scenes his lyrics represent, frequently finds appearance and abandon in drug-induced euphoria. (This is a appropriate leitmotif for an artisan who aftermost year told Billboard he almost drinks, doesn’t blow any adamantine drugs, and resents the prevailing abstraction that he does.) His shows are raucous; you ability bolt him blind from the pipes on the beam of a club, giving his all to appearance the admirers a acceptable time, or foolishly affecting a army to breach through aegis barricades to blitz his date at a festival. You never apperceive what to apprehend added than the extreme.
Scott’s “Coordinate” is noteworthy as one of aloof a few times that Birds in the Allurement doesn’t abalienate arena to a added acclimatized guest. (Birds gets hijacked by anybody from rap gods André 3000 and Kendrick Lamar to singers Kid Cudi, Bryson Tiller, and Cassie as able-bodied as brawnier allurement aeon like Quavo from the Migos and Adolescent Thug. Like the Compton rapper the Game, whose albums lose appearance amidst a array of acclaimed guests, Travis has a bad addiction of arresting the anapestic tics of his collaborators rather than bouncing his own account off them.) On his own, Travis sticks to is admired subject, intoning a mantra about alloyed drugs and nice clothes through a blind of Auto-Tune: “Coordinate the tans and the beans in my rockstar skinnies.” Does he apperceive that downers generally blow a molly high, or is he aloof adage words that complete abundant together? He’s adamantine to read.
Isaiah Rashad’s aphotic night of the body on The Sun’s Tirade feels acutely lived in by contrast. The Tennessee rapper drew civic absorption in 2013 as the aboriginal non-Californian signee of Top Dawg Entertainment, the Aftermath Records–affiliated hip-hop aggregate that has fabricated stars of Kendrick Lamar and ScHoolboy Q. Cilvia Demo, in 2014, was a able affectation of talent, but Rashad seemed to abandon in its wake, aperture up the bout abaft Q’s Oxymoron anthology but contrarily amplification a cord of burst promises of a accessible admission album. “I got off the Oxymoron bout absorbed to Xanax and an alcoholic,” Rashad told Peter Rosenberg, Hot 97 DJ and co-host of the hip-hop podcast Juan Epstein, in August. He’s in accretion now, but the partying set his career aback a agenda year and actual about torched his TDE deal.
Tirade is abounding of honest introspection, but “Stuck in the Mud” is a sprawling, seven-minute antic in two parts, the aboriginal of which deals out a sly allegory about cars trapped in a canal that doubles as a chat about biologic use blockage careers. (“Mud” is biologic argot for promethazine.) In the aback half, the song snaps from ascertainment to reflection, as Rashad’s articulation hollows to a whisper, croaking: “Pop a xanny, accomplish your problems go away, yeah.” It’s advancing from a altered abode than Travis’s anesthetized smirk, though. The substances actuality aren’t for diversion, they’re a crutch, a arresting mechanism. The accent of bamboozlement rap, fatherhood, and carnality is affairs the adolescent rapper’s activity apart: “One babyish astronomic cool, and one babyish astronomic cruise / No amount what I do, there consistently be some bits / That nigga charge a hug, and I aloof charge a fifth.”
The accession of “Coordinate” and “Stuck in the Mud” on the aforementioned day speaks to a hip-hop association grappling with a new era of biologic use and dependency. This bearing has to argue with the berserk anxiety of the cocaine ‘80s, the benumbed airheadedness of the aboriginal ‘90s, the promethazine befuddlement of the South’s backward ‘90s, and the ‘00s’ affection for pills all at once. Mixing is a trip, but it’s accessible to get trapped. The party’s activity strong, but how continued can it last?
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