Young Thug Delivers An Uneven Surprise On 'Business Is Business'

It’s hard to figure out exactly how Business Is Business fits in time. It’s Young Thug’s first album since 2021’s Punk, but more importantly, it’s the first record he’s issued since his incarceration over a year ago. He’s been denied bail four times and is currently awaiting trial in a RICO case filed against him and his label, Young Stoner Life. Since “Stoner,” his breakout 2014 single, Thugger’s been one of the most influential rappers alive, treating his voice as a fourth-world instrument, bending it into beautifully mutant melodic shapes.

In recent years, he’s found a comfort zone: He’s not as innovative as he was 10 years ago, but he’s not as weird as he was in the late 2010s — albums like 2019’s So Much Fun proved Thug was able to sound radically like himself. Business Is Business certainly sounds like a Young Thug project, but it’s a deflated version, unsure of exactly what it’s trying to say. This isn’t a review lamenting Thug’s lack of commentary about the American justice system — rappers shouldn’t be obligated to be the mechanism by which average listeners learn that the carceral state is beyond reform. But that there’s almost zero mention of his situation is a little confusing.

Gunna, a fellow YSL artist, and Thug’s formerly-constant sparring partner, released A Gift and a Curse a week prior. That album, uneven and messy as it is, seeks to unpack and process the YSL RICO investigation. Gunna works to dodge snitching allegations while working through his despair. But aside from the jail phone call in the album opener and the intro to “Global Access,” there’s little acknowledgment of Thug’s situation on Business Is Business. Case in point, the first voice we hear is an amorphously crooning Drake; he could be speaking for Thug, making proclamations about what he’ll do when he’s released, or he could just be being Drake, pining over some woman he met or made up. It’s too ambiguous to set a tone.

If taken out of the prevailing context, Business Is Business is a good Young Thung record. He’s still as strange as ever, finding new ways to contort his voice. On “Cars Bring Me Out,” a typical display of chemistry with Future, Thugger forgoes melody but keeps the autotune, giving his vocals a warbly, uncanny valley sheen. He’s as experimental as ever with flow, mimicking Project Pat on “Money On The Dresser;” on the Lil Uzi Vert-assisted “Hellcat Kenny,” Thug squirms against the minimal production, sinking into a heavy-lidded, mealymouthed delivery. “Uncle M” features some of his most quietly outlandish vocal work, beginning with autotuned whistling and continuing into the quavering hook. The way Thug’s pitch bends the end of his bars seems at odds with the cinematic beat. It gives the track a cartoonish menace, as captivating as it is off putting.

More than anything, Business is a triumph for Metro Boomin’s curatorial skills, earning his executive producer credit by guiding the album’s greyscale sound. Metro provides the lion’s share of the beats, but the other producers he recruits — Wheezy, Aviator Keyyz, F1LTHY — match the unsteady atmosphere. Everything feels a bit paranoid, from the twinkling synths of “Gucci Grocery Bag” to the blanket of sub-bass on “Wit Da Racks.” Thug’s rote materialism doesn’t always match the gloomy production, but Metro manages to keep the energy high with sprightly sequencing.

It remains to be seen how Business Is Business will fit into Thug’s overall discography. The cover photo features Thug sitting in the middle of a courtroom, stern-faced and staring down the barrel of the camera. There isn’t much more context to be found in the music, which isn’t nearly as fun or inventive as his previous work. It’s unclear exactly what Thug was trying to communicate here; if it’s meant to be a good bit of escapism, both for artist and audience, it’s a little too brooding.

Perhaps, as the case unfolds and Thug’s future becomes clear, Business will take on a grander meaning within his body of work. But for now, we’re left with a bleak, tight-lipped album that’s tough to know what to do with.