neuralnoise

[neuralnoise]

What 2019 release surprised you the most?

Blood drips from Jared Lee’s crown, rhythmically staining his carpet red to the opener of Duckwrth’s 2019 EP, THE FALLING MAN. The almost-double-bass beat intro to BOW conjures an aura of untouchable but nonetheless heavily guarded opulence—a nervous, dark energy when juxtaposed with the lighthearted pop of his previous release, an XTRA UUGLY Mixtape. 

The tracklist of the EP stacks grandeur onto itself in an already-precarious heap, layered heavy beats and synthesized strings amplifying the unshakeable anxiety that comes with building a legacy for oneself in the oversaturated world of modern hip-hop. Duckwrth rejects the idea of worshipping the artists that precede him in BOW’s neck-snapping beat switch: “Worship what you advertise[...]/ Fuck that/ [...]You ain’t no god,” he tells his subject, shutting down the gloat of modern musical legends as little more than vain attempts for an extra moment in the spotlight. He continues to amplify his unease with fame throughout the EP; this deconstruction of idolatry permeates its lyricism, resurfacing on nearly every track. Duckwrth knows the bigger they are, the harder they fall, and he’s nothing if not unsettlingly aware of the size of the shoes his newfound fame has dressed him in. “There's no peace in the garden,” he reflects on A WILDFIRE, unable to revel in his successes, instead overwhelmed with worry about falling from the throne upon which they rest.

Despite the all-consuming struggle of perfecting an image that will outlast his life, Duckwrth’s breaks to ruminate on the impossibility of finding real love and acceptance in a modern age grounds THE FALLING MAN in inescapable humanity. From reflecting on a rocky relationship on LOVE IS LIKE A MOSHPIT to reclaiming a slur on KING KING, regal grace cloaks his unpacking of the struggles of being a queer black man in hip-hop into universally understood experiences. 

Duckwrth’s anxiety to build just the right legacy for himself while searching for a place in the world as a queer artist is an incredibly complex inner chaos to articulate, much less through a genre so frequently forced to co-opt itself for commercialization. The leap from easily-marketed, dance-party worthy bops in his previous work to the dark eloquence of scrambling to the top demands impossible height, but Duckwrth clears it with ease—who better to than someone with such mastery of the mechanics of illusion? Between its ambitious production value and blend of traditional and experimental hip-hop lyricisms, THE FALLING MAN is the work of royal hands.

#in 500 words or less #first post #2/18/2020 #there's much more to unpack on this album but 500 words is 500 words