Throughout his two blockbuster albums, Jack Harlow had all the weather of pop-rap superstardom on full show — the chameleonic swagger, the everydude sincerity evidenced by his affinity for namechecking chain eating places, the puppydog hearththrob confessions, and the cellphone numbers of essentially the most well-known visitor rappers in existence. He had sufficient expertise to get the co-sign from Kanye West and Drake, and the pop acumen to land a Quantity One Billboard single. Nevertheless, for those who may degree one criticism of the Jack Harlow catalog, it’s that, conceptually, he may often be a juicy Kentucky nothingburger. Harlow’s songs had been, for essentially the most half, variations on PG-13 horniness, Drake-ian affected by success and Ted Speak hustle mentality made for the age of grindset memes: I began from the underside, did my Malcolm Gladwell-mandated 10,000 hours, now we’re right here.
That each one adjustments on third album Jackman, a lean, 24-minute burst of mixtape-style power that most likely makes the perfect case so far for Harlow as “rapper” quite than “sensation.” These 10 SoundCloud-sized rap nuggets — there’s no options and just one track passes the three-minute mark — have the personable really feel of these first two Kanye West albums, a spot the place introspection meets boasts, the place politics are touched on however largely seen by way of what our narrator personally sees, hears and feels. If Kool Moe Dee was nonetheless issuing his rapper report playing cards, Harlow would see a large grade increase in “Sticking to Themes”
The album’s most electrical monitor is opener “Frequent Floor,” which examines his white privilege in a manner that’s not as self-lacerating as Macklemore nor as indignant as Eminem nor as confused as Brad Paisley. “Frequent Floor” is just some self-aware disgust geared toward competition crowds, suburbanites, and the rap journalists who perpetuate concepts of “authenticity”: “The suburbs are crammed with ebonics and entice sonics/Frat boys sayin’, ‘No cap, put racks on it.’” Lest you suppose he’s a scold, “It Can’t Be” is simply as fast to quiet doubters who suppose his pores and skin tone is the one motive for his success, cataloging his tireless hustle, consideration to element and easy good-dude power.
You might accuse these politics of being a bit mealy-mouthed on “Gang Gang Gang,” a tackle having pals which can be #MeToo’d (or worse). Nevertheless, you’ll be able to’t accuse “Gang Gang Gang” of being dishonest, because it does a reasonably vivid job of explaining Harlow’s confusion, blended feelings and disappointment when considered one of his pals finally ends up persona non grata: “We maintain accountable those we maintain expensive out of morals, however primarily worry/The selection turns into clear/And years of camaraderie all of a sudden disappear/Nearly such as you by no means had been right here.”
The maturity and depth on show on Jackman might not be sufficient to silence haters or mollify critics however, like Mac Miller’s Watching Motion pictures with the Sound Off, it’s a step up in lyricism that exhibits that Harlow has a lot, way more to supply.