With his official sophomore effort, because the internet, Childish Gambino inadvertently violated every rule in the “regular Atlanta rapper” handbook. Instead of referencing the trap house, Gambino painted a vivid picture of a generation trapped by the endless distractions of the web. Instead of leaning on the enduring “bros before hoes” narrative, he crafted quite possibly the most brazen, shameless Hip Hop love song ever recorded (“3005”). Instead of bragging about imaginary killings, he explored the world’s collective fascination with watching real-life violence on the web (“WORLDSTAR”), and instead of the usual rags to riches narrative, Gambino fused “silver-spoon-cool” braggadocio with transparent self-doubt and palpable anxiety about getting older, disappointing a swath of women, and floating out into the ether of his soul (“Earth Is The Oldest Computer”).
But with his latest DJ Drama-hosted release, STN MTN/Kauai, Gambino is pressing the refresh button, and while most of the components are present, there are some glaring technical issues. Thematically, he grounds himself in his Stone Mountain, Atlanta roots while sometimes forgoing his outcast position. Gambino cooks early on Ludacris’ “Southern Hospitality” and Rich Kids’ “Partna Dem,” instant treats for those who wish to see more of Gambino rhyming over thumping bass rather than spacey synthesizers. The persistent invective tossed at Gambino boils down to a question about his mic skills, but he has clearly honed his craft since Camp.
In various interviews Gambino has stated that he feels he can go bar for bar with any emcee in the game, and in addition to “Candler Road,” we witness his wit on “Move That Dope.” Flexing on Mike Will Made Its’ beat, Gambino makes a legitimate case that he should have replaced Pharrell on the original version, while throwing subliminal shade on his contemporaries in the process (“Nigga we made it, we had the beat and we heard the verse and said ‘nigga we hate it”). Gambino, or Donald Glover, the great multi-tasker sometimes shifts to the next step a little prematurely. Instead of sprinting through the finish line, Gambino moves onto “Nextel Chirp” and eventually runs out of gas with scattered, unimpressive bars. He continues in this bar-crazed vein with K. Camp’s “Money Baby,” but this time he gives the song the full attention it needs.
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Gambino distances himself from the same sort of Erykah Badu-esque, head over heels lull that Jhene Aiko inspired on his last album (“3005,” “pink toes,”). Forever-ever love is swapped for tales of stripper odes and one-night stands, as illustrated on the “AssShots Remix,” but the song places Gambino in a venue he fails to find compatibility with, and begs for an unreasonable emotional response. Despite DJ Drama’s boasting of Gambino’s skills, he dials in mediocre lyrics coupled with a forgettable hook.
Gambino received a lot of flack from fans who were upset with the plethora of crooning in place of actual rhymes upon the release of because the internet. But at this point in his career, it’s a known fact that Mr. Glover isn’t usually interested in catering, so he serves up a verbatim cover of Usher’s “U Don’t Have To Call” with a thematic twist. After an acapella performance, Gambino reverts to his oft-used slam poetry flow, resulting in one of the overall standout moments of the album.
“All Ya’ll” is by far the most impressive song on the tape as Gambino flips one of Timbaland’s most underrated beats to showcase his lyrical nature. While Tweet is no where to be found, there is an abundance of ripe quotables that could function well within the 140 character threshold: (“Childish ya’ll know the name/ Gettin’ hate from Charlamagnes”). However, in his quest to pay homage to his roots, Gambino too often comes across as just another “regular” rapper from Atlanta on the STN MTN side of the STN MTN/Kauai dreamscape. The tape concludes on a high-note with Gambino paying respects to Drama on “Go DJ.” While no one is expecting Gambino to create the next great American rap treatise via mixtape format, it’s truly a letdown when an innovative artist doesn’t quite deliver on his promise.
