ALBUM REVIEWS
Lil Baby, Lil Durk
Mario Pujals*Superstar collaborations between two platinum rappers are a dime a dozen since Drake and Future linked for What a Time to Be Alive in 2015. Still, a summit with Lil Durk and Lil Baby carries a special sense of anticipation. Peaking in critical and commercial acclaim, both seem ready for a mainstream ubiquity beyond the melodic and street rap fans that eagerly absorb their work.
You could argue that Lil Baby is already there – his 2020 album My Turn landed on numerous best-of lists, and his performance of his socially-minded (if slightly maudlin) single “The Bigger Picture” at the Grammys in March was widely shared online (and caused some controversy). Meanwhile, Lil Durk has survived numerous career and legal twists since breaking out with his ferocious “L’s Anthem” in 2012. It’s remarkable that he’s grown into a true comer, with last year’s Just Cause Y’all Waited 2 peaking at number 2 on the Billboard charts. Lil Baby and Lil Durk clearly have the Apple and Spotify playlists on lock. But turn on an iHeart radio station and you may be more likely to hear Lil Baby’s feature on the late Pop Smoke’s “For the Night” or Lil Durk on Drake’s “Laugh Now, Cry Later” than one of their own headlining tracks.
Given the stakes for making the leap from 1B status to franchise players, it seems odd that the duo’s The Voice of the Heroes doesn’t make a firmer claim for attention. Maybe it’s the nature of these increasingly common Marvel Team-Up-styled projects: one week it might be Future and Lil Uzi Vert, the next week it’s YG and Mozzy. (To be fair, Lil Baby and Gunna’s 2018 Drip Harder was certainly a superior event.) Perhaps it will just take time for these songs to worm their way into our collective heads. Given how much music both men produce – Lil Durk has dropped four projects in the past 13 months, while Lil Baby is a bit more selective – the inclination may be to bop The Voice of the Heroes for a week or two and move on to the next thing.
“I wasn’t trying to be no idol,” harmonizes Lil Baby on the opening title track. It finds the duo taking the stage like they’re kicking off a starry concert. “And I’m just getting started, relax, wait ‘til I warm up,” he adds. Meanwhile, Lil Durk focuses on his troubled life, from past stints in prison to carrying his “stick” wherever he goes, and the sex and drugs he consumes. The two bring clear and subtle contrasts. Lil Baby prefers Adderall. Lil Durk likes “perkys.” Lil Baby has a gravelly voice that he uses with surprising deftness. It’s a powerful brand that’s impossible to mistake for anyone else’s. Lil Durk’s isn’t as distinct, but he can shift from a world-weary melody to a sharp and aggressive Chiraq tone, the equivalent of suddenly pulling on a ski mask.
The first few tracks go hard. On “2040,” the duo delivers verses in double-time over a Flex OTB and Forever Rollin beat reminiscent of a late Aughts Dirty South banger, while “Hats Off” find them joining Travis Scott over a dramatic and infectious synthwave trap rhythm. For “Who I Want,” Lil Baby offers his perspective on love. “You can’t just pop out and say you’re the hero, you gotta put on a cape and save the day,” he raps. “Man of My Word” boasts plenty of stick talk and staccato keyboard punches as Lil Durk riffs, “You gotta be a killer just to hang with us.”
But despite occasional and welcome cameos from Meek Mill, Young Thug and Rod Wave, The Voice of the Heroes eventually loses its propulsion. Whether intentionally or not, the producers – London on da Track, Wheezy, Turbo and a host of others – ladle computer washes and keyboards over the album’s latter half, and the sentimental tone doesn’t quite fit Durk and Baby’s brooding flows. Some cuts have strong hooks and others don’t, though the duo’s chant of “I need medical” on “Medical” stands out. Eventually, it starts to sound like an 18-track blowout that’s taking a bit too long to wrap up.
All in all, The Voice of the Heroes isn’t bad. Lil Durk and Lil Baby will continue on their respective paths. Maybe they’ll make a sequel if this sells well. But both have gotten close enough to the crown to realize that there’s more to the rap game than simply feeding the streets.
ALBUM REVIEWS
Grandeur sits at the heart of ‘This Music May Contain Hope’, RAYE’s second album, and the result feels nothing short of breathtaking. On this record, the singer born Rachel Keen explores a wide spectrum of sounds across its 73 minute length, moving from emotional ballads to lively funk moments and the jazz pop style she has become closely associated with. It can feel overwhelming at first, yet the magic that comes from RAYE fully committing to her vision makes the experience rewarding from start to finish.
‘This Music May Contain Hope’, a conceptual project about pushing through insecurity and heartbreak, unfolds like a lavish stage production. RAYE takes on the dual role of main character and guiding voice throughout the story. “Allow me to set the scene. Our story begins at 2:27am on a rainy night in Paris. Cue the thunder,” she says during the opening track ‘Girl Under The Grey Cloud’, which arrives with sweeping orchestral strings. Spoken passages appear across the album, helping shape the narrative and giving the project a sense of direction, almost like hearing the official recording of a Broadway show.
With this framework in place, the South London artist allows herself to fully explore the album’s diverse musical palette, and most of the time it works in her favor. Sometimes she fully embraces the theatrical side of the concept, especially during the closing section of the smooth R&B track ‘The WhatsApp Shakespeare’. Other moments are delivered more straightforwardly, such as the emotional slow building ballad ‘I Know You’re Hurting’. She also revisits her earlier dance influences with the impressive house track ‘Life Boat’.
Across the entire album, two things stand out clearly. RAYE’s flexible vocals sound better than ever, and her songwriting feels sharper than it has before. Take the playful highlight ‘I Hate The Way I Look Today’, a swing jazz inspired track reminiscent of Ella Fitzgerald, where she admits “I’m okay to be lonely / If I’m lonely and skinny / I have such silly self-loathing thoughts, it seems”. Then there is the emotional storytelling in ‘Nightingale Lane’: “It was right there, early June / Next to Old Park Avenue / Standing in the rain, I watched him walk away”.
Despite all the vulnerability and emotional struggles explored throughout the record, RAYE ultimately reaches a place of optimism, staying true to the album’s title. She gathers her close friends on ‘Click Clack Symphony’ with support from Hans Zimmer, finds closure with guidance from Al Green on the smooth seventies soul inspired ‘Goodbye Henry’, and reaches toward something greater alongside her sisters Amma and Absolutely on the uplifting ‘Joy’ as she searches to be “free of all the pain and every fear”. After the stormy opening imagery of that “rainy night” and “thunder”, RAYE eventually realizes that “the sun exists behind the clouds”, as she shares on ‘Happier Times Ahead’.
‘This Music May Contain Hope’ shows RAYE performing at her absolute peak. The album feels huge in scale and emotionally powerful, yet it remains rooted in honest experiences and real feelings. Yes, it asks a lot from the listener, but that is also what makes it so special. Every dramatic moment and musical shift feels like RAYE claiming her independence and finally creating music entirely on her own terms.
