Nasir album review pitchfork
The most affecting story is told in the mini-epic ‘Santeria’, in which Push goes from mourning a murdered friend (his old road manager, De’Von Pickett) to committing to a revenge plot, with grim detail. But it doesn’t last long enough, and a repeat of the vocal on the last loop recognises that the simple pleasure is fleeting. The purity of the sample and its rolling, blissful bass begins to feel like a respite for Pusha from the image he has to maintain. Amid bragging about his own success and the hardness of his upbringing, the verses build up to an admission that however great it might have made him, Push can’t outrun his past: “Can’t escape the scale if I tried / Interstate trafficking’s alive.” Another layer is added to the narrative Pusha’s been working with since Clipse, and Kanye does this revelation justice. Based on stark shifts between a snippet of that track in untampered form and the creeping, rumbling sections that contain Pusha’s verses, it’s a great example of the illustrative powers a beatmaker can wield. ‘Come Back Baby’ is one of the most narratively compelling tracks, and that has a lot to do with Kanye’s usage of George Jackson’s ‘I Can’t Do Without You’. And Kanye’s production is consistently top-notch and purposeful, matching Pusha’s focused-yet-colour-stuffed verses and highlighting his ambiguous persona with dark or strange tones paired with fluffless beats, all with a focus on samples. But at about 21 minutes, this album keeps from being a daunting listen. Pusha’s style includes heady rap chunks (the lyrics are consequential, line-to-line, with sudden narrative shifts and tons of wordplay), with some of the easiest lyrics being slow-burners at the least. While anyone can explore this track’s lyrical playground (“I only ever looked up to Sosa / You all get a bird, this Oprah”), there will, according to Pusha, always be a leftover layer to peel back, reserved for his people. As Pusha’s said, he’s speaking directly to his people, to those in a similar situation to his young self. It’s an energised, low-key banger which works with an appealingly teasing premise: no matter what, certain (read: most) of the population will never be able to totally unpack his coded language. ‘If You Know You Know’, the opener, is sonically dense. He makes this point periodically throughout Daytona, although his focus from track to track is either more fun or more compelling than a simple “I’m different.” If you’ll take his word for it, he’s as much a kingpin as he is a rapper, and his connection to that lifestyle sets him apart from the game’s other players, which from his point of view is overpopulated with fakers (“I’m too rare / Among all of this pink hair”). Pusha’s solo career has seen him rapping over increasingly dark and strange beats, complementing his focus on a past of drug dealing and an ambiguous present. It feels like a natural and compelling stylistic progression for Pusha himself (strongly aided by Ye), showcases some particularly tight and purposeful verses, and offers a mystery-soaked narrative which positions it as a serious moment in the world of rap mythology. In my humble opinion, it’s one of the year’s most worthy releases.
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And these two fit together like puzzle pieces that thankfully met amid the scattered, imposing landscape of rap politics and culture, full of beef, shaky allegiances, and polarising trendsetters. Daytona turns out to be sort of a monument, a stone-faced statement of stylistic integrity which signals high points in the musical careers of each artist. Daytona is produced entirely by Kanye West (we can safely call this a collaboration) and came as the first of the five ‘Wyoming’ projects he’s working on this year (the others are: Ye Kids See Ghosts, his project with Kid Cudi Nas’s Nasir and Teyana Taylor’s KTSE, out tomorrow).