A few months ago, someone (I forget whoâŚplease remind me, if you read this, so I can give you proper credit) passed along a music video of a kid from Chicago. If I remember correctly, he wanted me to hear the song because the young kid on the track scream-sung that everybody in the world fucking hates the Lakers. I hate the Lakers. (Raised outside Boston; born into it. Sorry guys.) Thus, this person concluded, I must like the song.
I did like the song. Not (only) because the kid on the track, Chance the Rapper, scream-sung that everyone in the world fucking hates the Lakers. I loved it because Chance seemed eager to take chances, to be strange. It was almost like the song was compelling him to places he wasnât even aware ofâŚhow else do you explain his sudden switch to a Russian accent in the middle of the song? Itâs completely unexplained but feels natural. He switches to a Russian accent not because it would be cool, really, but almost because he HAD to.
Itâs rare to find a rapper who seems totally taken over by the beat. A rapper who makes it seem like they arenât even trying. Itâs like it is just happening. Lilâ Wayne had a two-year run there where he wasnât rappingâhe was possessed. (I miss possessed Wayne. Letâs listen to this song just to remember for a second. Damn.)
Chance doesnât yet have Wayneâs wordplay or dexterity, but he does have thatâŚshit, I donât even know the word for it. I guess âpresenceâ would be the closest word to it. Maybe âimmediacy.â Or ânaturality,â if thatâs even a word. Chance is a natural rapper. Nothing seems calculated. You know a ton of work went into it, but it doesnât feel like a ton of work went into it. It feels right. Itâs the wind through a car window. Itâs the drums on a Kanye beat. Itâs the melted cheese on a medium rare burger. Some things just seem like they couldnât be anything else.
Itâs tempting to talk about Acid Rap in these big ways, to say itâs a perfect mixtape. It isnât. It lags in the final third. On the tracks when Chance tries to replicate âtypesâ of rap songsâthe club banger, the weed jointâthe mixtape stumbles. Chance is at his best with a clean piano line and a snare drum. The three songs that best fit this feelâthe âGood Ass Intro,â the âInterlude,â and the âGood Ass Outroââare a flawless three songs, nothing but positivity and Chance meandering over a piano line.
I wonât go song by songâbut the highlights are easy to find. âFavorite Songâ takes a handclap and a pulsing chord and gives us a perfect summer BBQ song, not to mention Childish Gambinoâs best verse in a minute, where he finally stops talking about all the half-Asian girls he hooked up with and gets back to the observations that made me fall in love with Gambino in the first place. (âWhite dudes Harlem Shake / Why you laughing? / Cause you Harlem Shake.â)
âCocoa Butter Kissesâ is a nostalgia-fest featuring TWISTA, of all people, over a great beat that Kendrick Lamar must be furious he didnât get to first.
Before I get out of here and implore you to download the (FREE) mixtape, I guess I should comment briefly on where this album is coming from. Geographically, I mean: Chicago. Chicago is a mess, guys. You know that. In awful times, itâs easy to see a city producing music that comes from places of anger. Last year Chicago gave us Chief Keef, who literally spent three minutes rapping about all the things he doesnât like. Who could blame him? When the murder rate in your city is rivaling warzones, it seems pretty natural to vent out about all the things pissing you off.
Chance is not interested in such things. This mixtape has anger and sadness, but mostly it is joy, 13 tracks of happiness, laughter, Russian-accented weirdness, and singsong. Itâs not because Chance is naĂŻve. He knows whatâs going on in his city. He even raps about it at length. Heâs just choosing a different way to look at it. The last song on the mixtape is called âEverythingâs Good.â It may not be true, but god damnit I love Chance for thinking it anyway.