Major label debuts by overnight rappers are almost always a dubious proposition, and Uzi’s missteps were entirely forgivable, especially as this new class of artists prided themselves on a steady stream of material to bestow upon fans whenever they’ve really felt like it. Luv Is Rage 2 presented a new version of Uzi only fitfully, coasting along the ground already laid out by the album’s direct predecessor, as well Vs.
It was a strangely harmless affair, what with a bedeviled Uzi on the cover rendered by none other than Off-White maestro Virgil Abloh, and the sole features besides Pharell belonging to The Weeknd and Nicki Minaj. Luv Is Rage 2, while featuring a grabbag of the typical Uzi quirks, as well as the effortless, Pharell-featuring “Neon Guts”, and the rightful superhit “XO TOUR LIF3” tacked on at the end, didn’t make a statement of any sort. However, the following summer, Uzi fell prey to the major label debut that was saddled with monotony and the occasional dip into indifference. Uzi’s Lil Uzi Vs The World was one of a handful of breakout tapes from him and his cohorts –– including those beyond that year’s freshman list –– that caused quite a stir among lyrical hip-hop fans: 21 and Metro Boomin’s Savage Mode, Yachty’s Lil Boat, Playboi Carti’s Playboi Carti and the continuing reign of already elder statesmen, Future and Young Thug. Kodak makes a point of drawling “who the fuck chose this sorry ass beat?”, but otherwise the rest are funny (21: “sent your bitch to the store cuz we ran out of soda”), surprisingly solid (Yachty), or zig-zag through melody, verbosity and unfettered joy with head-spinning versatility. The clichéd descriptor of it being a “lightning in a bottle moment” flies in the face of this new generation, but that’s just what it is.
This thrilling sensation of all-around newness doesn’t even extend to the other, regrettable inclusions of Lil Dicky and Desiigner. The cypher is no technical marvel, save for maybe Curry’s machine-gun verse rather, it captures a bunch of giddy kids, itching to break free from the shorthand descriptor of “mumble-rap” (read: not lyrical)… with the polite exception of Kodak Black.
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