Album Review: Freddie Gibbs & Madlib - Bandana
Album Review: Freddie Gibbs & Madlib - Bandana
More often than not, when it comes to follow-up albums, in order to live up to an almost-universally recognised classic record, the best strategy is to ensure that you are not simply attempting to create the same album a second time. When this approach is taken, artists risk simply running through the motions and sounding frankly uninspired. Taking a different direction on the contrary carries its own risks - stepping too far out of your comfort zone, or taking unnecessary and forced detours. Heading into Bandana, Freddie Gibbs & Madlib’s long-awaited sequel to the 2014 beloved cocaine-rap masterpiece Piñata, I was consistently wary of the need for MadGibbs to find a balance between these two approaches. It is a balance Freddie & Madlib achieve triumphantly, in recapturing the magic of Piñata whilst maintaining enough of a significant distinction in tone and style for it not to feel like they’re playing it safe. Less prominent are the glimmering soul samples on Piñata tracks such as ‘Robes’ and ‘Shame’ as well as the bright guitars on the likes of ‘Thuggin’ and ‘High’ . In their place for much of the record are eerie vocal samples such as the harrowing cries heard on ‘Massage Seats’, menacing sirens and snarling electric guitars on the first half of ‘Flat Tummy Tea’ and gritty, hard drums on tracks such as the Anderson .Paak-featuring ‘Giannis’ and ‘Half Manne Half Cocaine’. However, the album is not without its soulful moments - heavy drum-work and dark, atmospheric strings give way to a beautiful soundscape of sun-drenched flutes and horns on the phenomenal ‘Fake Names’, and glamorous, yearning vocal samples glide into each other perfectly on ‘Practice’. The world Bandana operates in sonically is hugely immersive and a fitting compliment to Freddie’s often grim narration, which as ever varies from luxurious braggadocio (Crime Pays) to mournful regret (Practice) to disturbing tales of the harsh realities and inner-conflict that go hand in hand with a life of crime and excess: on Fake Names, arguably the centre-piece and greatest track on Bandana, Freddie raps:
‘Jealous n****s want they twenty-eight up front now
I bought all the damn clientele, we could have ran the town
But f**k it, you cut the price, then I fly to Phoenix
Said if you ain't copping like twenty, then, c***sucker, beat it
They put Yella Boy on the evening news
Devil on my shoulder said, "F**k friends 'cause cash rules”’
Gibbs, whilst he remains a good lyricist rather than a fantastic one - capable of stringing together fantastic quotables but unlikely to have you jumping out of your seat with his words - what convincingly makes him a compelling performer is his poise on the mic and jaw-droppingly nimble flow and delivery. Indeed, kicking off the album with a track as laid-back as the horn-backed ‘Freestyle Shit’ was certainly a risk, and yes, the song lacks the raw electricity of Piñata’s opener ‘Scarface’, but Freddie’s performance is smooth and infectious as ever, and this is enough to make it a resounding highlight and worthy intro. Other high points include the strongest promotional single ‘Crime Pays’ with its intoxicating woozy keys and catchy flows, ‘Palmolive’ with its soaring vocal sample and insanely quotable guest verse from Pusha T, who seems to be in his second career prime as of late, the wistfully soulful ‘Practice’ and the sweeping, triumphant Cataracts.
Nevertheless, Bandana is not without its (relatively minor) shortcomings. Primarily, it is not as airtight as its predecessor - Piñata is engaging, infectious and boasting sheer brilliance for virtually every second of its duration - the same unfortunately cannot be said of Bandana. The use of a hook, as opposed to pauses allowing space for non-sequitur tangents about his sexual affiliations with pre-fame pop stars, would undoubtedly have benefitted Massage Seats in giving it a more definitive and significant-feeling placement within the tracklist. Additionally, whilst the song gathers momentum once Freddie starts rapping with fire in his belly for its second half, the hazy and reflective Situations in particular feels lacking, primarily thanks to Freddie’s hit and miss melodic flows, an approach which plays much more nicely against Gat Damn’s whimsical, summery tones. Finally, despite this being a minor gripe on an otherwise fantastic track, I can’t help but feel the song Education, a posse cut with legends Yasiin Bey (formerly Mos Def) and Black Thought, could have used a slightly clearer vocal mix, particularly on the latter’s verse. However, the off-kilter, crackling mix of this track also works in its favour, giving the cut a classic, retro sound - Education feels like Gibbs is standing alongside members of the pantheon of all-time-great rappers and, just maybe, joining them - a sentiment that may define this album for many fans for years to come.
Score: Mid-High 8/10
‘Jealous n****s want they twenty-eight up front now
I bought all the damn clientele, we could have ran the town
But f**k it, you cut the price, then I fly to Phoenix
Said if you ain't copping like twenty, then, c***sucker, beat it
They put Yella Boy on the evening news
Devil on my shoulder said, "F**k friends 'cause cash rules”’
Gibbs, whilst he remains a good lyricist rather than a fantastic one - capable of stringing together fantastic quotables but unlikely to have you jumping out of your seat with his words - what convincingly makes him a compelling performer is his poise on the mic and jaw-droppingly nimble flow and delivery. Indeed, kicking off the album with a track as laid-back as the horn-backed ‘Freestyle Shit’ was certainly a risk, and yes, the song lacks the raw electricity of Piñata’s opener ‘Scarface’, but Freddie’s performance is smooth and infectious as ever, and this is enough to make it a resounding highlight and worthy intro. Other high points include the strongest promotional single ‘Crime Pays’ with its intoxicating woozy keys and catchy flows, ‘Palmolive’ with its soaring vocal sample and insanely quotable guest verse from Pusha T, who seems to be in his second career prime as of late, the wistfully soulful ‘Practice’ and the sweeping, triumphant Cataracts.
Nevertheless, Bandana is not without its (relatively minor) shortcomings. Primarily, it is not as airtight as its predecessor - Piñata is engaging, infectious and boasting sheer brilliance for virtually every second of its duration - the same unfortunately cannot be said of Bandana. The use of a hook, as opposed to pauses allowing space for non-sequitur tangents about his sexual affiliations with pre-fame pop stars, would undoubtedly have benefitted Massage Seats in giving it a more definitive and significant-feeling placement within the tracklist. Additionally, whilst the song gathers momentum once Freddie starts rapping with fire in his belly for its second half, the hazy and reflective Situations in particular feels lacking, primarily thanks to Freddie’s hit and miss melodic flows, an approach which plays much more nicely against Gat Damn’s whimsical, summery tones. Finally, despite this being a minor gripe on an otherwise fantastic track, I can’t help but feel the song Education, a posse cut with legends Yasiin Bey (formerly Mos Def) and Black Thought, could have used a slightly clearer vocal mix, particularly on the latter’s verse. However, the off-kilter, crackling mix of this track also works in its favour, giving the cut a classic, retro sound - Education feels like Gibbs is standing alongside members of the pantheon of all-time-great rappers and, just maybe, joining them - a sentiment that may define this album for many fans for years to come.
Score: Mid-High 8/10
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