Some people retire with a solid IRA. Some with detailed pension plans. Occasionally, those who retire do small side jobs or find relaxing hobbies.
Robert Bryson Hall II, better known as Logic, rapper, songwriter, and author who made his outspoken hip-hop style a socially relevant success with the suicide prevention anthem, “1-800-273-8255,” announced his retirement last week at the same time as he announced the release date of this album. While he said he wants to focus on parenting, he didn’t explicitly say what he’s retiring from, and earlier this week he announced a lucrative deal with Twitch as a live streaming player. Good job if you can get it, like the Gershwins said.
As for the rap career he apparently retired from, at his best, like on the 2017 “Everybody” album, the pleasantly loquacious, baritone-voiced rapper is focused and forceful, and exposes reasoned theories of mental health. , social schemes and intimate relationships with great care. arranged hip-hop. At his worst, for example, “Confessions of a Dangerous Mind” of 2019, his thought process is casual and preaching, accompanied by music that can be downright messy.
Fortunately, the former Logic is present on “No Pressure”, meeting producer as No ID, who directed albums for Jay-Z, Kanye West, and Snoh Alegra, as well as Logic’s debut in 2014, “Under Pressure” . Building on labyrinthine soundbeds and chubby rhythms with lyrics that are both fun and frank, Logic is in his best Q-Tip mode for kids.
Starting with a snippet of Orson Welles speaking in an old radio drama, Logic accelerates to speed through “GP4”, paying tribute to heroes like Erykah Badu and Public Enemy. “Celebration” finds him praising hip-hop’s verbal muscle: “What is rap without a bit of boasting?” – on a doubled gospel tone reminiscent of the soundtrack of Melvin Van Peeble’s “Sweet Sweetback’s Baadasssss Song”. Strange gospel and heavenly background vocals also feature prominently in “Soul Food II,” with a chorus featuring Brittney Noell Hall, producer 6ix, Bobby Campbell, and others singing as Logic fades their voices through the mix. The cool and complex jazz R&B of “Man I Is”, complete with a warm trumpet section and undulating guitar line, is an excellent example of Logic and No ID in its most artfully sonorous form. He also nods to his retirement: “Transcending and transforming, the poetic version is a rare form / I promise that when I have a family, I will be there for them.”
Elsewhere, “Hit My Line” finds Logic borrowing the nice day from Ice Cube: “I didn’t have to use my AK environment” at first, showing personal satisfaction; while “Hit My Line” sonically transforms into a dizzy psychedelic dream and lyrically in a crumbling world of “Too Many Children Outlined in Chalk / Fear of Hobbies When They Should Be Scared of the Dark”. The latter is logic at its best, furious with righteous outrage and intense melodic skills. On the other hand, “Perfect” plinking is not, and the letters of the “Heard ‘Em Say” camera jump, even with its ingenious Manfred Mann sample, are saccharine and heavy. But it closes tightly on “Obediently Yours,” with another sampling of Orson Welles, stifling Philly soul synthesizers, and loving thanks to old-school hip-hop.
If Logic is truly done, “No Pressure” is a solid and moving ending, and if it has more in it, it’s an intriguing starting point. Time will tell …
