Just what I needed
On Lil Uzi Vert (and U.S. Girls, Bad Bunny, Charly Bliss, 100 gecs and Broken Social Scene)
So, I’m supposed to be doing an edit test right now. And editing a personal essay, and a feature. And writing a paper. And applying for jobs. In the last week or so, I’ve convinced myself I didn’t want five different fellowships, on the day they were due, so I wouldn’t have to write the cover letters. Drinking three cups of coffee a day hasn’t helped with any of this yet (but that won’t stop me from trying again tomorrow).
As I finish school and speed up my job search, I’m experiencing a profound lack of energy. I know, as anyone who’s ever graduated college before will tell me, this is nothing new. But I wouldn’t call this burnout — I’m still motivated as ever to think about music, interview artists and do journalism. Those other things are just getting in my way.
This is all to say, Lil Uzi Vert’s new album could not have come at a better time in my life. Eternal Atake is overflowing with energy and passion, something I’ve been seeking out in music for the past few years. In the 40 hours or so since it came out, I’ve listened through at least five times. It’s the best thing I’ve heard so far this year, no contest.
Like everyone else, I became fascinated with Lil Uzi Vert in 2017, when I first heard the emo-rap masterpiece “XO Tour Llif3” and later saw the man almost jump off the balcony of the Riviera Theatre in Chicago. But I didn’t start to get Uzi till I heard “New Patek,” his first single post-Luv Is Rage 2. He raps like he might never release a song again, sandwiching as many bars as possible between a 20-something line hook. Not to mention, they’re the weirdest, most wonderful flexes you’ve ever heard: “I am an octopus, I cannot breathe without water / So I put diamonds on my tentacles,” for one. The momentum of Uzi’s flow carries you through the end of the song, circling you back to the beginning to experience the rush again.
Eternal Atake is a more dynamic, hourlong version of that. If Luv Is Rage 2 felt a little bloated (at 56 minutes and 16 tracks), it’s because Uzi front-loaded it with bangers and got a little comfortable on the second half. Uzi front-loads Eternal Atake with bangers too, but then it just … keeps … going. It’s sort of divided into six-tracks sections for three different egos: Baby Pluto, Renji and Uzi. What that really means is Uzi’s constantly pulling new tricks throughout the album — which also follows him through an alien abduction, if that’s not enough to keep you listening.
That opening section is a reminder that Uzi is still one of the best new rappers in music, with some of his most dexterous verses and best lines. On the first song, also called “Baby Pluto,” Uzi raps so determinedly that it feels like he’s willing the beat into existence, and gives us the gem of a line, “I ain’t fuck a bitch so long, I’d do it in a Honda Accord.” Speaking of gems, find me a more entrancing and fun moment in pop music this year than Lil Uzi Vert rapping, “Balenci’, Balenci’, Balenci’, Balenci’, Balenci’, Balenci’, Balenci’, Balenci’, Balenci’, Balenci’, Balenci’, Balenci’, Balenci’, Balenci’” on “POP.” You just can’t.
That’s the thing: Uzi is having so much fun on Eternal Atake, and you never lose sight of it throughout the album. It’s there in flexes like “Bigger Than Life,” “Prices” and “Secure The Bag,” which feel more and more earned as the album goes on. It’s there in his sheer silliness, on lines like “I was with my Irish bitch, she said, ‘Uzi, you so lucky’” and “I’m like Mother Goose, if I say shoot, they gonna shoot.” It’s there on “P2,” which features Uzi building a more mature, equally tragic, totally original track from the bones of “XO Tour Llif3.” And it’s definitely there at the end, with the two previously released bonus tracks: in the hyperactive EDM of “Futsal Shuffle 2020” and the pop reinvention of “That Way.” The comedown at the end of “That Way” is less than 30 seconds long, as the drum track cuts out and a group keeps singing the familiar refrain. It’s still enough to leave you hungry for more, queuing up “Baby Pluto” yet again.
I’ve found this energy other places this year, like U.S. Girls’ funky, catchy anti-capitalist rallying cry “4 American Dollars,” one of my favorite songs of the year. But Heavy Light, the album that contains it, doesn’t live up to the power of its opener in the same way that U.S. Girls’ previous burner In a Poem Unlimited did, due mostly to some near-melodramatic filler in the middle. I got another shot of it when I recently overheard “Safaera,” the Missy Elliott-sampling club hit off Bad Bunny’s new project YHLQMDLG, an album I need to give proper attention to when I get the chance.
You could say I’ve been searching since last summer, which gave the one-two punch of Charly Bliss’ Young Enough and 100 gecs’ 1000 gecs to carry me through the year. 100 gecs have given a constant output of remixes since the mishmash of their debut album — most recently an A-team remix of “ringtone” with an eminently shoutable Rico Nasty verse — and I still haven’t put down the propulsive, polished power pop of Charly Bliss (which I hope to write a full newsletter about soon).
Even the title of this newsletter comes from a totally epic, cathartic instrumental by Broken Social Scene, a song that could fit neatly in any coming-of-age movie. It soundtracked what may have been the single best four minutes of my life: the final song of Broken Social Scene’s 2017 Aragon Ballroom concert, as I jumped and sweated alone at the barrier, just me and the music. That song reminds me of the passion I feel for music, just like Eternal Atake did and like I’m hoping this newsletter will.
But enough of the sentimentalism — I’ve broken 1,000 words here, and I have an edit test to finish, some job apps to do and lots more to write. I’m writing this for me and not you, but if you read this far, I hope you enjoyed! I don’t plan to set a schedule for this newsletter, but I’m hoping to publish a few times a month, just whenever I feel compelled. (Hopefully, for all of our sakes, they won’t all be as long as this.) For now though, like my prophet Lil Uzi Vert said, “I don’t really care ‘cause I’m done.”