Like Carti’s marble-mouthed verse on UTOPIA standout “FEIN,” Ken opts for a radically blunt strategy, each within the supply and the vocals-up-front combine. He sounds completely fried in one of the best ways over Clif Shayne and Lucian’s rolling beat for “Pots” (think about a swarm of these robotic spiders from Spy Youngsters 2). On “Succubus,” which cranks up its heaviest bass frequencies right into a blinding fog, he numbly croaks and croons by a bender whereas obsessing about an ex. He nonetheless typically reverts to uninspired clunkers and primary, Opium-core angst. (What number of instances do we have to hear about an “emo bitch” who “slit her wrists”?) And don’t get me began on this unforgivable get it? second in “Vampire Hour”: “In every single place I am going, I preserve a letter after J/Don’t let that shit go over your head, I preserve a Ok.”

However cloaked on this album’s alluring packaging, much more of this unusual, “dangerous” writing works due to how amped up every thing is. Typically, he’ll do Wayne-like free affiliation to land on future fan artwork: On the squelching “Nightcore 2,” he says he’s fly, then asks you to search for within the sky: “It’s not a airplane, it’s not a fowl/It’s X-Man, bitch, fuck what you heard!” It’s so dumb that you may’t assist however crack a smile.

At a Brooklyn listening celebration for A Nice Chaos final week, Ken moped round stage, misplaced in his personal music, whereas a crowd of principally excessive schoolers thrashed round and belted songs that had already leaked. At one level, he introduced out Destroy Lonely; at one other, his boss Playboi Carti, white diamonds embedded in his face like a Hindu god. Telephones had been whipped out, however Carti didn’t say a phrase, rapidly retreating stage left to his posse and ceding consideration again to Ken. It was no “Dre passing the torch to Kendrick” second—they’re too cool for that—however the exhilarating music, skilled in unison by the Opium crew, indicated this was a coronation.

Rap since Entire Lotta Purple, and since Yeat’s breakthrough data, has gotten brasher, bolder, extra fiery. However Ken’s sound is now its personal department from that tree. The buzzing rapper OsamaSon, for instance, appears to take affect from Ken’s sweltering manufacturing, meted-out flows, and flattened cadence. If Purple is the Rosetta Stone for Rage 1.0, huge and colourful and dynamic, then A Nice Chaos might be the following essential LP on this wave, capturing its personal mind-numbing senselessness. It argues that possibly the doubters had been simply listening to Ken the improper method. As for his longtime followers: That is the long run these Rick-obsessed Opium disciples deserve: One thing genuinely cool, dangerous, and relentless.