Dregs's Mousetrap

By no means do I have any kind of background that qualifies me to write about rap music. But I have been listening to a lot of it for the past few years now. And I know what I like. That might be enough?
     Here I will share some of my favorite releases, limited specifically to Atlanta rappers, within a period roughly ranging from the past 8 years, organized by artist:

 

 

21 Savage

21 Savage is my favorite Atlanta rapper because everything he’s put out since Savage Mode (2016) in their own right are all formidable, consistently and thoroughly well-executed achievements I’ve yet to get tired of: Issa Album (2017), Without Warning (2017), and I Am > I Was (2018). His style of vocals is so minimal he practically speaks his verses. And his unyielding trademark habit of interspersing “21,” “straight up,” “oh god,” and “pussy,” 

on his tracks kills me.     

     But Savage Mode II (2020) so far has been the most exciting. With its cover reminiscent of mid-90s No Limit, and narrated by Morgan Freeman, it feels like 21’s best yet. If I were to single out any particular aspect of 21 Savage’s subject matter, it’s the subject of gunplay.

 

Future

For me Future will always be the most important Atlanta rapper. His 2014 mixtape, Monster remains the most strikingly inspired, auspicious, and untouchable. It’s mean, unapologetic, gritty, and overly-confident. It’s wonderful. Future is also the Atlanta rapper I’ve probably spent the most time listening to and where it all started for me. Beast Mode (2015), 56 Nights (2015), DS2 (2015), Evol (2016), and Future (2016) are for me, his prime—an insane run of indefatigable quality output. 

     Although odd as it may seem, I gotta single out the Purple Reign (2016) mixtape for its brooding, melancholy, singularity of tone. It stands out to me as his Moon Pix.

 

Young Thug

Thugga’s reign from the mixtapes Barter 6 (2015), Slime Season (2015), Slime Season 2 (2015), I’m Up (2016), and Slime Season 3 (2016) are what did it for me. Everything he’s ever done sounds ahead of its time. But it’s this run I find most satisfying. Thugga’s vocals sound weird in the best possible sense of the word. His voice sounds weird, he does weird things with it, and his beats surround him in a world of his own individual style. He can also make raunchy into poetry.

     Slime Seson 2 is what I’d select as my desert island mixtape from Young Thug, but after I thought I’d lost interest in him, the album So Much Fun (2019) finally came out and restored all of my faith in his talent. I can’t wait for more.

 

Lil Baby

Entering the '20s, Lil Baby would appear to have the broadest appeal among the Atlanta rappers. His unique voice, so easily identifiable, first caught my attention by way of Harder Than Hard (2017), Too Hard (2017), Harder Than Ever (2018), and Street Gossip (2018). I always thought he sounded autotuned but cool. Was he ever autotuned or is that just the way his voice sounds? I don’t even know anymore. 

     Now maybe it’s because I’m out of touch with the media, I don’t know, but it seemed like overnight when My Turn (2020) came out Lil Baby blew up way beyond I’d had any idea he’d gotten. My Turn also works for me as an album that I can listen to for way longer than his earlier stuff. Y’know, that phase when you’ve listened to a new album for so many times and you finally move on? My Turn never expired for me. It was also big to me because last summer I heard it bompin from the streets almost every other day.

 

To summarize: 21 Savage, Future, Young Thug, and Lil Baby for me would be, as Sarris would say, the Pantheon.

 

Playboi Carti

If I thought Young Thug was odd, Playboi Carti caused me to become enamored with a style of vocals that at times I still question whether or not is absurdly stupid or abstractly sublime. With only three releases so far, which I’ve indulged heavily in each of, I can’t really compare any qualitative significances between them. Playboi Carti (2017) and Die Lit (2018) boast his signature bubbly, babytalk-laden ebullience. And while sometimes I’m not sure what Playboi Carti does can be called rap, I consider him as someone who has the courage to ignore the traditional forms in favor of pursuing his own modes of expression above all else. So, yes, rap.

     Whole Lotta Red (2020) kinda shies away from the babytalk, obviously. But I’m still happy to see where he’s going with his sound. I gotta respect however he chooses to experiment at this point.

 

Young Nudy

The Slime Ball mixtapes and Nudy Land (2017) take a casual non-urgent approach to horrorcore. That’s what I like about Nudy: he doesn’t seem to have anything to prove. Or at times it almost seems like he doesn’t really have a strong work ethic—in a cool way. His talents are elsewhere. He’s clever, funny, and dark. But aren’t all of the rappers I’ve mentioned? Young Nudy’s street. He’s like buying local. Sometimes you just wanna groove on something that sets the mellow.

     Sli’merre (2019) is my go to lately because of Pi’erre Bourne (who also supplies Playboi Carti’s early beats among others). That’s not to say Anyways (2020) is any less than what I’ve come to expect from Nudy nor that I’m anything but hyped for Dr. Ev4l (2021).

 

Lil Yachty

Can a rapper be hard and goofy? The Lil Boat (2016) mixtape was impossible to resist. Yachty’s heavy autotuned crooning over illegal Nintendo samples and narratives split between Lil Yachty and his alter ego Lil Boat make for a fun and innocently fresh voyage.

     Then Lil Boat 2 (2018) came later and was such a contrast to that first mixtape one wonders why it was titled as having anything to do with its predecessor. Lil Boat 2 isn’t playful, it’s a shoving match. And where is Darnell Boat? From among the Yachty’s output, I couldn’t choose between Lil Boat or Lil Boat 2 because together they’re both all I could ask or want from him.

 

Bankroll Fresh

Ah Bankroll takes me back to the gangsta rap I’d dreamed of discovering when I was a kid. Bankroll is so hood he almost makes everyone else come off as rap cap. Life of a Hot Boy (2015) and Life of a Hot Boy 2: Real Trapper (2015) feel like they came from back in the 20^th century when rap still felt dangerous. In fact his style is so abrasive I can only handle it for so long before I need a break. But I need Bankroll Fresh, to be inspired by and reminded of his sheer audacity. There’s something underground about his music too. It’s something to be shared and discovered.