![]() ![]() League’s rousing piano production granting Gibbs the space to reflect on his life journey. “Rabbit Vision” is a personal sermon, with the J.U.S.T.I.C.E. “I did this album off pages ripped out my diary/Confessions and hard lessons, killers confide in me,” he spits, considering how he’s matured and grown over the years. He combines the groovy rhythms of the Madlib production with his conspiratorial ramblings as a cover on “CIA,” hiding the album’s thesis in the final track. Much like how his music interacts with his controversy, you have to make an effort to sort through the nonsense in the vignettes, like when the polarizing Joe Rogan appears in a voicemail at the end of “Rabbit Vision.” But when he homes in on his own words and self-critiques, he’s razor sharp. ![]() It’s a double-edged sword: It gets him into a laundry list of beefs outside of his raps that get old rather quickly, while also making it possible for him to address the reputation he’s earned in his songs. Part of Gibbs’ allure stems from his unflinching honesty, turning $oul $old $eparately into a mediation on how his life has morphed with stardom. His voice dives in and out of the pockets with precision, skillfully playing with the cadence to craft a symphony with the track’s intermittent hi-hats. The James Blake-produced “Dark Hearted,” with its continuous vocal echoes and murky piano beat, makes Gibbs’ bars about homicide and abandonment feel like bad memories he wishes to flush away. Kelly Price’s angelic vocal runs on the intro “Couldn’t Be Done” coincide with triumphant horn sections and a pitched-up Norman Feels vocal loop to give the song a celebratory, gospel-esque tone. “Grandma’s Stove,” with its musings on his public perception as a “deadbeat daddy” and drugs as a form of escapism, draws additional sensitivity from the somber drumbeat and Musiq Soulchild’s crooning. Instead of a uniform set of boom-bap production that sounds like Blaxploitation flick soundtracks, there’s a grab-bag of sounds for Gibbs to mold. The track is a proverbial layup: “Black Forces so his brain ain’t leave a stain on my shoe,” he raps, pairing brutal depictions with the serene vocal sample to create a haunting juxtaposition with a sinister aura.Įven though Gibbs strays away from the Alchemist and Madlib, he retains the soul that’s set him apart from much of rap’s mediocrity and malaise. Instead of blistering through the track, Gibbs employs a methodical flow that creeps along a dreamy Michel Ripoche sample, rattling off references to Black iconography “ Training Day Denzel” and Fred Hampton with a measured fury. The Alchemist’s two-faced, jazz suite on “Blackest in the Room” feels as though it could be ripped from Fetti. Understanding that change is difficult for people, Gibbs provides fan service early in the album to listeners he’s picked up in recent years. It’s a refreshing canvas for a rapper whose technical prowess and stark songwriting deserve a varied landscape to thrive in. Now Gibbs departs from the comfort zone that he’s built for himself on $oul $old $eparately, inviting in producers like Kaytranada, James Blake, and DJ Paul into the fold. Walker strings on “Something to Rap About” or the Sylvers’ angelic shrieks on “Palmolive,” relying on only Gibbs’ nimble flow and cadence variances to make each song feel unique. You begin to expect the peaceful nature of David T. ![]() The thrill of surprise dissipated with each album’s hyperfocus. He should consider doing that type of thing more often.Settling into a groove with legacy producers whose names ring out in the annals of rap history made it difficult for Gibbs to buck expectations as to what his projects could sound like. That song, "Likethesun," is a brilliant and unexpected change-up where Musiq also provides one of his best vocals, dipping beneath and vaulting above the stop-start percussion patterns and swarming synthesizers. There’s also something of a successor to "Sobeautiful," the equally hypnotic and chivalrous "Medicine." At the very end, Musiq buries a thoroughly modern gem featuring a spacy, irregular beat from Jesse Wilson and the Kaliphat. It sets the tone for Musiqinthemagiq, which does not stray far from Musiq's past but features some developments, such as the singer's increased comfort with falsetto deployment ("Sayido," "Waitingstill") and a charming mid-'60s soul throwback ("Love Contract"). For his sixth album's lead single, Musiq went back to his "club 1981" playlist, where he pulled Taana Gardner's "Heartbeat" for the basis of "B.U.D.D.Y." - a 2007 Top 40 single - and picks "Walking into Sunshine." "Anything" replays much of the Central Line classic, with Musiq delivering another one of his feel-good, relatively wholesome spring/summer R&B radio hits. ![]()
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