The already infamous cover for Jeffery, Young Thugâs third project this year, sees the 25-year-old Atlanta rapper, who can currently be found on billboards in Manhattan modeling womenswear for Calvin Klein, working a purposefully genderless outfit by Italian designer, Alessandro Trincone. His face is masked by a white bonnet of sorts, body engulfed by a baby blue gown, as he strikes a pose eerily reminiscent of one of Michael Jacksonâs signature dance moves. The accompanying tracklist photo sees him peeking out from under the same ensemble, beaming his $20,000 smile. Although Young Thug, born Jeffery Lamar Williams, has been publicly toying with the idea of changing his stage name to his birth name, citing his growing kids and his own career trajectory as reasons for not wanting to be referred to as âThug,â the rapper seems as self-assured as ever in this photoshoot â a trait which fortunately translates to the music itself. This yearâs Iâm Up and Slime Season 3 cast considerable light on Jefferyâs progressiveness.
Executive produced by Wheezy and TM88, and mixed by the engineer behind 2015âs Barter 6, Alex Tumay, this album is, sonically, Young Thugâs most ambitious effort to date. All producers involved (from relatively unknown composers such as Billboard Hitmakers to rising star CassiusJay) experiment with their given styles, subtly incorporating newfound elements of reggae and dancehall throughout the 42-minute run time. Together, they dispel paper-thin criticisms of the production within Thugâs camp being redundant or atypical to the southern âtrap style.â âFuture Swagâ may have the menace of a standard 808 Mafia beat, but on âWyclef Jean,â and âKanye West,â Thug floats over increasingly bubbly instrumentation outfitted with strumming guitars (electric and acoustic), delicate keys and bouncing basslines.
Where Barter 6 showcased Young Thugâs sprightly flows and nuanced songwriting, Jeffery now hinges on the artistâs increasingly elastic vocals; his blunt-force delivery is the main spectacle here and Jeffery does approximately 35 new things with his voice. At times, the experimentation frays at the outer edges, but you know that part on James Brownâs âLost Someone,â the Live From the Apollo version, where he shouts âI feel so good I want to scream,â then screams before playing the track out? Thatâs basically Jefferyâs entire vocal style in a nutshell: itâs a whirlwind of sporadic yet purposeful emoting thatâs finessed with frightening ease. Itâs a high-stakes performance that sees him waking up mid-verse on âSwizz Beatzâ to howl âwake up to Young Thug,â delivering strained yet affectionate yelps on âRiRi,â and embodying a bluesy intonation for the centerpiece, âHarambe.â
All memes aside, take that very track, âHarambe.â Jeffery spends the entirety of the song reciting a grocery list of people heâd love to wipe off the face of this Earth, with pent-up aggression that becomes more apparent with every strained crack in his voice, before running head first into an existential crisis. âI got the devil inside me,â he growls, effortlessly toying with his inflection, âGod tryna decide, do he wanna leave me or sign me.â âRiRiâ showcases a similar internal struggle as he slurs: âI know Iâm a blood, Iâm a gang banger/I know I ainât a bitch but Iâm still singinâ.â These asides are delivered with palpable conviction and act as necessary moments of self-reflection that ground the surrounding celebration.
Throughout the project, Jeff repeatedly touches on love: âall my children spoiled, yeah they got it allâ he claims on the intro and, inversely, âmama told me Iâm her brightest starâ on the bonus cut. On âWebbie,â he passionately promises the same mom that she âcanât lose,âwhile âKanye Westâ is an ode to his fiancĂ©e (the verses see him adding her to his will). âRiRiâ makes that same fiancee playfully work for his love as he showers his friends with adoration (and yacht parties). âSwizz Beatzâ may never receive the same fanfare, but for what itâs worth, itâs one of the best self-love songs this side of Kendrick Lamarâs âi.â
And therein lies Jefferyâs main shortcoming: after countless projects and a handful of singles teasing commercial success, Young Thug still floats somewhere between internet obscurity and pop-renegade. Mr. Willaims claims the songs are titled after his idols, but rather than shed light on his influences, he only further obscures his appeal. His cultish fanbase upholds his momentum, but for the uninitiated, this intrigue can prematurely fade as early as the second track, âFloyd Mayweather.â Overlong and featuring a sputtering Travis Scott verse, âFloydâŠâ as well as âFuture Swag,â and âGuwop,â struggle to break new ground. For the most part, Jeffery is an economical tape, making inspired use of new YSL signee Gunna, a rejuvenated Young Scooter and a world-weary Wyclef Jean. However, its reach doesnât often extend far beyond Young Thugâs pre-existing universe. The potential is there, but it may be time to retreat and regroup before casting another reel into the mainstream.
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Young Thug ends Slime Season 3 wanting a âfuckinâ Grammy,â and Jeffery opens with him promising heâll âdo it my way.â With his debut still in limbo, the artist soon-to-be formerly known as Young Thug is refreshingly confident in himself and his career trajectory (âI just signed a deal with Calvin, baby clap for meâ) but is also continuously reckless with his execution, for better or worse. Regardless, from the jamming intro to the sublime closer, Jeffery is a testament to the rapperâs carefree spirit. And if his uninhibited self-expression offends, he has but one bar for you: âpardon me, pardon my soul.â