Album Review: Kevin Abstract - ARIZONA BABY
If Kevin Abstract's name has become anything close to well-known, it can only be attributed to the meteoric rise of BROCKHAMPTON, the rap collective/boy band which he founded. Thrust into the public eye after the unprecedented success of their SATURATION trilogy in 2017, Kevin's contributions to that group's work usually defaulted to sung hooks and the occasional rap verse, often centered around his experience as a gay man growing up in Texas. His burgeoning solo career, however, has marked him as arguably the most ambitious member of the group, and his newest solo effort certainly lives up to that reputation. Even on its own merits, ARIZONA BABY is a competent and creative statement of Kevin's autonomy, if a bit restrained by its artist's limitations.
Kevin's clearest asset, both as a solo artist and as part of a larger collective, has always been his ear for hooks and melodies, a skill woefully absent on the last BROCKHAMPTON album (2018's Iridescence) but thankfully more present here. Georgia could have been an unremarkable ballad about nostalgia, but the sunny chorus juxtaposed against hesitant, dour verses ("Houston, Texas, my teachers had weapons/I'd get my ass whipped, I learned my lesson") is oddly compelling, accented by the restrained use of Kevin's signature pitch-shifted vocals. When he couples creative production (such the soulful vocal samples and piano on Use Me) with smooth, emotive crooning, the result is some of the most catchy yet innovative R&B in recent memory.
The one-two punch of Big Wheels and Joyride that opens the album is particularly enjoyable, the former's synth-driven production supporting a single well-rapped verse that eventually cedes the spotlight to eerie and atonal saxophone riffing. As odd as the melodies here are, the seamless transition into Joyride's carefree horn riffing and playful lyrics is perfectly done. Kevin's verses are often bereft of wordplay or flavour, but raw emotion is enough to carry many of his songs; Corpus Christi and its uncomfortably direct references to his childhood friend Ameer Vann (a previous member of BROCKHAMPTON kicked out amid sexual assault allegations) being the most blatant example. Named for Kevin's home town, the track sees him baring his soul perhaps more potently than ever before, the ambient production leaving plenty of room for lyrics about turning to drugs while on tour in Europe and glimpses into his depressing ruminations: "I wonder if Ameer think about me, or what he think about me/See when I think about me, I barely think about me".
After four BROCKHAMPTON albums and his previous solo material, however, Kevin's oft-repeated lyrical themes have begun to wear thin, and the lack of fresh material is painfully evident in light of his straightforward approach to writing. For every fresh message or topic he delves into on ARIZONA BABY, there are multiple tracks crippled by a dearth of originality and Kevin's frustrating approach to songwriting (often eschewing rhyme schemes and lyrical complexity in favour of a more direct, almost spoken-word flow). As moving as the aforementioned Corpus Christi is, the muted instrumental leaves the less stellar lines glaringly distinct, and much of the song reads like a rambling diary entry. When positioned as raw distractions on tracks featuring other rappers and singers, Kevin's contributions are a breath of fresh air; as the sole driving force of an entire record, the result is frequently unimpressive.
It's no surprise, then, that the few cuts featuring other artists, be they fellow BROCKHAMPTON members Joba and bearface or similarly quirky R&B up-and-comer Dominic Fike, provide welcome (if inconsistent) changes of pace. The latter's intro and hook on Peaches are about as painfully saccharine as the plucky guitar line underscoring them, a poor complement to one of Kevin's more powerful performances: "Was breaking it worth it in the end/If I'm just a vision you come to?". Between his contributions and those of the melodramatic bearface it remains unclear why Joba, easily the most talented singer present (with the possible exception of Kevin) is not given more room to shine. Surprisingly, though, it is co-producer Jack Antonoff (now as famous for his work behind the boards as behind a microphone) who provides the best guest appearance; his crooning chorus on the sparse Crumble fades in and out on every line, truly selling the weight of life's pressures causing one to crumble into figurative pieces.
It's not that Kevin Abstract's lived experiences are totally uninteresting, but much of the flair his unique perspective brought to the early BROCKHAMPTON records has long since evaporated. Present on ARIZONA BABY are multiple inspiring examples of a young artist grappling with the trappings of fame, relationships, and other such drama, yet too often their effectiveness is undercut by overdone messages, questionable production choices, or a general need for innovation. While no doubt a step forward for Kevin as a solo artist, the record leaves room for doubt as to where his solo work can go after this. Still, for what pleasure it provides, an album brimming with this much talent is not to be ignored.
7/10
Favourite Tracks: Joyride, Georgia, Crumble
https://open.spotify.com/album/6wi40lIjhukePWyXRKY7qO