Soulja Boy - "Loyalty" Feb 10, 2015 23:00:17 GMT -5
Post by StevePulaski on Feb 10, 2015 23:00:17 GMT -5
By: Soulja Boy
By: Soulja Boy
After iSouljaBoyTellEm, the followup to his platinum album boasting the monstrous hit "Crank That (Soulja Boy)," managed to make only meager waves in the hip-hop pond, Atlanta-based rapper Soulja Boy Tell 'Em was dropped from Mr. Collipark's self-titled record label, the same man who had faith in him after "Crank That" proved popular as a street single. Following the downright abysmal performance of his third album The DeAndre Way in 2010, Interscope Records, another label that put faith in Soulja following his success, dropped him and Soulja was left wading in the water in terms of studio releases. During this five-year downtime between The DeAndre Way and his most recent release Loyalty, Soulja stuck to the mixtape circuit, perhaps playing it safe, testing his abilities, experimenting with different styles, and providing his fans with a great deal of content that he wouldn't have to worry about impressing critics or financial backers.
Loyalty has gone through a multitude of different names and release plans, originally titled Promise back in 2011 and potentially boasting the controversial song of Soulja's "Let's Be Real," in which he openly disrespects the United States Army and the FBI. One would assume (and hope) that with the barrage of delays and the large amount of downtime Soulja has had that the album would be something at least respectable or worthy of a recommendation on some level, yet unfortunately, that's some wishful thinking. I challenge anyone who said all the songs on Souljaboytellem.com and iSouljaBoyTellEm sound like the same, recycled bangers because Loyalty is one of the most disposable hip-hop albums in terms or quality and consistency since Chief Keef[/i]'s Nobody last month.
From the opening track, we see what kind of album Soulja is setting up and all we can do is fear. The opening track "Hurricane" is a pitiful excuse for a hip-hop song, combining a groggily-sung flow with pathetically repetitive lyrics that allude to the idea that Soulja isn't even trying at this point. "Whip, whip, whip, whip, hurricane," Soulja relentlessly repeats, in a chant that masquerades as a chorus but only seems to be nothing more than a creative drought in terms of lyrical practice. Such an assumption is only furthered as songs like "OG Gas" and "Designer" mimic the same kind of formula, with horribly simple instrumentation in the background while miserably basic lyrics take precedence. Such a formula is repeated for fifteen long, agonizing songs that total over an hour in length, making for an excruciating listen, especially, as I did, in one sitting.
The album's sole notable exception is "Don't Nothing Move But the Money," a relatively mediocre song in terms of lyricism, but has a sound that is more alive than the pathetic display of lean-induced cloud-rap that has bookends the track. The song has some life to it and doesn't try to skate by with the repetition of a line or a chorus for more than three times.
At the end of the day, however, the biggest tragedy about Loyalty is how phony and empty it is. Yet again, I reference Chicago's famous drill rapper Chief Keef, who, even if he is repetitive and thoroughly cold on his releases, at least offers some sort of insight into the violence that has surrounded him since childhood. There is something extractable from his songs that at least extends beyond the kind of metal his watches and bricks are made from, or what kind of "gas" and "lean" he is sipping on (most of the time, at least). The only thing Soulja Boy's Loyalty will test is that of his audience's.
Recommended track: "Don't Nothing Move But the Money."