Isolating his various traits into easily defined tracks, the Baton Rouge rap star’s new 30-song album suppresses the knotty, uncomfortable nuances that make his best music distinct.
YoungBoy Never Broke Again has long positioned himself as an outsider, but he’s more of the music industry than he likes to believe. The 22-year-old Baton Rouge rapper’s latest project, The Last Slimeto, slots right in with some of this year’s other middling major-label rap releases—where the goal isn’t to make the best album possible, but to make an album that preserves an artist’s stardom. Think of Gunna’s DS4Ever, Lil Durk’s 7220, and Future’s I Never Liked You drawn-out albums that have their fun radio hits but function more like fan service.
Despite an overwhelming 30-song tracklist, The Last Slimeto may be the neatest YoungBoy album, which in a way feels contrary to the point. His best songs are messy: They fluctuate between fickle emotions like pain, anguish, and paranoia, usually with a hint of bitterness bubbling under the surface. On “Make No Sense,” one of the most commercially appealing singles from his 2019 tape AI YoungBoy 2, the celebratory lyrics can’t quite disguise a feeling of being underwhelmed, as if the rush of success hasn’t quite brought the relief he’d expected. Like so many of YoungBoy’s most memorable songs, it’s too complicated and raw to be described with only one emotion.
Meanwhile, too many of the tracks on The Last Slimeto are simplified. They’re types of YoungBoy songs rather than the temperamental excerpts from the confessional booth that made his best work distinct. It’s music that aims to appeal to everyone by isolating the traits of YoungBoy’s persona into crisp, easily defined tracks. If you prefer lovestruck YoungBoy, here is “My Go To,” an unromantic and chemistry-free duet with Kehlani set to a generic pop groove. If you’re partial to the YoungBoy who sulks on top of gloomy acoustic guitars, then “I Know” is that and nothing more. If you follow YoungBoy’s life like a reality television show, check his Lil Durk diss “I Hate YoungBoy,” where the rapping is solid but the over-the-top aggression is more attuned to YoungBoy the meme than the person. They’re dumbed-down YoungBoy songs—not an entirely new trend, but more visible than ever on The Last Slimeto.
On an album nearly as long as a movie, you’ll have to dig a little to find the meticulous details that make YoungBoy songs great. “Fuck Da Industry” is similar in spirit to “I Hate YoungBoy,” except that the beefs and drama are secondary to how seamlessly his flows transform and tempos shift: In one instant he’s in a rageful holler, the next trying to calmly croon as he holds back another outburst. His verse on “Home Ain’t Home” swings skillfully between reflection and regret, though Rod Wave’s melodramatic wails break the mood. On “7 Days,” his writing and vocals finally click at the same time; when he belts out, “I ain’t tryna say a thing, nigga, I can barely think/I said I quit for seven days and then I’m back on drank,” the words are defeated but the rumble in his voice makes it sound like he’s fighting with himself. That’s a YoungBoy track right there: Bring a different aspect into focus and it’s a whole new song.
But moments like that shouldn’t feel like anomalies on a YoungBoy album. The Last Slimeto suppresses the knottiest and most uncomfortable aspects of his music, the moments when it feels like you’re hearing him process his darkest thoughts in real time. As a result the album is easier to digest, the songs less likely to stick out on a playlist, but at the price of the individuality that has made YoungBoy impossible to replicate, even as competitors have tried. Commercially, that’s not necessarily a problem: DS4Ever, 7220, and I Never Liked You were similarly muted and each of those records are well on their way to becoming the most financially successful solo albums by their respective artists to date. In the past YoungBoy was a breath of fresh air because he scoffed at playing the game. Now that he’s gotten access, it’s proving hard to pass up.
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