Future (Pt. 1)
Baptized Inside Purple Actavis (2010-2015)
A weird pick for anyone who knows me. Young Thug’s the more fertile rapper; Playboi Carti selects far weirder beats; 21 Savage is a less able rapper but has a stronger synergy with Metro Boomin. Even the far less interesting Travis Scott has the occasional banger that feel way out of Future’s reach, whereas the opposite isn’t true - certainly no longer true as of late. But more than those rappers, Future feels like he defined the spilling over of autotune into rap (alongside Drake) and trap into the mainstream; anyone who doesn’t consider Future one of hip-hop’s most influential figures of the last decade is fooling themselves. His run during the post-Yeezus years of 2014-5 where he dropped six projects (four of them good if not outright great) in two years was just, well, what a time to be alive.
And in many ways, I constantly feel like I have to atone for severely underrating him back then, having written him off based on the repetitive of his beats and hooks (“Move that dope, move that dope”) and not thinking hard enough about how he was creating this unheard of mix of bragging about his drug and sex intake while simultaneously making you feel sorry for him. On at least two separate occasions, he details threesomes but the experience is framed passively, as if he’s not an active participant (“Got bitches kissin' on bitches, I'm just bein' honest” and “I just had some bitches and I made them lip lock”); too strung out, too heartbroken, too depressed. It’s a very fine balance that he managed to walk alone. To admire (or to denounce) his hedonism is to miss the point.
He did not arrive at that sound overnight. In fact, if you started listening to Future in 2014 or 2015 (as I did) and backtracked to his early mixtapes, it’s flat-out weird to hear him approach the microphone as a normal rapper, no injected melody via autotune, no content, no personality, just fucking nothing there that suggested he was a Human Being, which also highlights why those early mixtapes of his aren’t worth anyone’s time except as a historical curiosity. Future released eight mixtapes before he released his first studio album and frankly it's a goddamn wasteland of mediocrity that no sane person should wade through, and of course, I did that so I could say ‘here’s the complete guide to Future’s past.’
Here’s the complete guide to Future’s past:
From 2010, debut mixtape 1000 leverages Future’s Dungeon Family connection by bringing in Big Rube but I guess no one was willing to connect him with a semi-decent producer: all 19 songs are produced by some hack named DJ Scream, and both the keys and drums are feeble - a feather could knock “Good Look” over. Songs like “Yeah Yeah” (with that fucking airhorn to boot) are prime examples of juvenilia: his flow and lyrics are so terribly uninteresting in these early days.
Second mixtape Kno Mercy that same year is slightly better than 1000. For starters, it’s vastly shorter at 12 songs (including 2 skits), but the beats are clearly made with a slightly higher budget, muddy as they still are: Future sounds distant (and not for aesthetic ends) on his first verse on “Old Hunnduds” and frankly that synth is doing no one any favours on “Road to Riches” even if it’s a more interesting sonic than anything from 1000. DJ Bobby Black introducing Future on every song grows old quick (‘THE GRAND WI-ZRRRRD’): that voice is the vocal equivalent of more airhorns.
He struck gold in the occasional song the following year, but of course it’s buried in the avalanche of 5 mixtapes with way too many generic beats and lame hooks; “Freeband Gang” from True Story might be the worst song of his career (and that’s the opener), and since the best songs “Magic” and “Tony Montana” will be remixed for his studio album, it has rendered True Story even more of a blip in the rearview. Stuey Rock, who shares the mic with him on FDU & Free Bandz, has a voice that makes me wonder if NAV is preferable (a horrifying consideration), and that mixtape is the worst Future project because of it. You might think Free Bricks would be worth checking out since it’s a collaboration with Gucci Mane but Future barely registers and Gucci Mane is phoning it in.
All that being said, be sure to check out “Dirty Sprite,” the title track to the tape of the same name which is his best song during these early years; damn near fucking harrowing. I’d say it’s actually darker than a lot of his post-Ciara songs to come since it plays like a cut from Danny Brown’s XXX released that same year in that it celebrates doing all of these drugs while knowing that they’re going to lead to his death: it’s hard to hear him shout-out Pimp C and then say he can’t get enough promethazine a few lines later. And Dirty Sprite also contains Future’s first taste of mainstream success in “Racks,” which was released as a single under YC who promptly vanished from the face of the earth. (Imagine a pop rap cut from the early 2010s named “Racks” and how the chorus might go. Congratulations! You nailed it!)
Streetz Calling ended 2011 as his best mixtape yet even if it loses steam near the end: “Power of that P” features inventive rapping from both him and Rocko; “Never Be the Same” glimpses into his autotuned future (not intentional). Astronaut Status the following year—his last mixtape before his studio debut—confirmed that it wasn’t a fluke; that he was actually developing as a rapper in tandem with his producers who were simultaneously getting better at that front as well. The autotune still isn’t being applied with any care—“Birds Take a Bath” is more annoying than any number of “That’s my ho” on “My Ho 2”—but the Gucci Mane collaboration already feels like it’s made by a completely different person than any of the songs from Free Bricks the previous year.
Pluto was reissued as Pluto 3D a mere seven months after its original release to include a few additional cuts and remixes which strikes me as Future’s way of getting more music into the market when he didn’t have enough for another album and swore off mixtapes. Most importantly of all, the new version course-corrects the major issue that the first voice we hear on Future’s studio album debut (after an intro from Big Rube) is R. Kelly. With a line like “somebody ought to tell her / Her ass got a voice, and she sing acapella” right out the gate, no less.
Anyway, no adding of any songs from the same era would make Pluto any better (or worse, really). Like Future’s mixtapes that came before, the album as a whole is stuck in 2010: the 808s are bright and thus, not atmospheric at all, but also crucially not hitting particularly hard either. But in keeping with the upwards trajectory of his last two mixtapes, Future’s rapping has improved significantly; “Truth Gonna Hurt You” sees him sliding more comfortably into the aesthetic that he’ll soon perfect, but he isn’t committed yet: his verse on “Homicide” is so, so bad (“It's a dirty world, you gotta get your hands dirty / I'm going for the title with my hands on the rifle”). Drake sucks on the remix of “Tony Montana,” which has a catchy hook since Graham is still in his pretend-to-be-hard phase, and I prefer his admit-that-I’m-soft phase that started the next year. By contrast, T.I. doesn’t suck on the remix of “Magic.”
A quick note here that Future had an uncharacteristic quiet year in 2013 but DJ Esco (the coolest DJ on the planet) dropped the mixtape No Sleep and while it’s technically an Esco mixtape, half the songs are Future’s. But with no top-drawer beats, it’s hard to bring myself to care, especially when the mic gets passed around. My mind damn near withers whenever Future’s brother Casino (no relation to Clams) hops on the mic (and clearly Future knows it since Casino barely appears on any Future songs); Zaytoven lays down an easy string for the title track over which Young Scooter does nothing with; Ready Rob finds a pretty sample from an Above & Beyond song for closer “Insomnia Addict” and calls it a day. It gets to the point that hearing someone rhyme ‘possum’ with ‘awesome’ is just about the best part of the mixtape. The remix of “Sh!t” (a Drake- and Juicy J-less version is included in the deluxe edition of Honest) has a ‘diss’ from Drake to Kendrick Lamar but it’s so slight it’s understandable that no one talked about it (“I hear you talk about your city like you run that / And I brought my tour to your city, you my son there”).
For all intents and purposes, Future starts here. Each and every one of these songs feels like the Future of just two years ago could never have made them, and that’s true even of the lamest cut, “Blood, Sweat and Tears” (it’s lame not because of Future’s autotuned outpouring, but the ‘anthemic’ drums that ask the audience to pull out their cell phones). Autotune is no longer just there to provide small melodies but to actually sweeten the flow, and he’s surrounding himself with far better talents in Andre 3000 and Pusha T. His choice of beats are better too, compounded by the fact the producers he has on-call are operating on a higher level in the first place. No more does it feel like he’s just rapping on whatever he gets his hands on (which is certainly the feeling I got from his early mixtapes), but that he’s carefully selecting beats and tailoring verses to match them. The Runners pull an indelible sample of thin air for opener “Look Ahead,” from blind Malian couple’s Amadou & Mariam’s frankly disastrous crossover album. “I Be U” is a minor triumph that (ahem) looks ahead to the light R&B influence of HNDRXX. “Move That Dope” is the most ridiculous of bangers; Mike Will’s bass is ferocious and clearly Future knows it - he repeats the hook ad infinitum so you can hear the bass over and over. I love Pusha T’s verse; you know exactly where he’s going as soon as he says “I knows better” but it’s exciting to hear him get to “nose better” regardless; by contrast, it’s a shame that the final verse is given over to that dullard Casino who just can’t keep up the energy. Personally, I’d recommend scotching the Drake interlude and the closer, switching them out for the deluxe edition’s “How Can I Not” and “Sh!t,” or the Future Swim non-album single “Coupe,” which was the song that made me a believer (“you got hoes looking like mermaids”).
Whereas about half of Honest had features, Monster only has one, marking the new phase in Future’s discography where he does it all (almost!) by himself. On releases like Monster and DS2, this was clearly a sign of strength: he had gotten to the point where he no longer needed anyone to help besides his beatmakers. On his late-period records, this had turned into an annoyance as he increased the number of songs: you started wishing there was a different voice or two to break up the monotony. In lieu of ‘em, he plays with his voice a lot more, stumbling his way through “I was drugged up on so many drugs” on “Showed Up” before robotically proclaiming “I just downed a whole eighth of codeine.” In that regard, “Throw Away” is a masterpiece, sequenced to appear immediately after the hit “Fuck Up Some Commas”; at the song’s end, he completely breaks down as he lays bare his fuck-ups (“I'm laid up with my sidepiece / The one that text while you was right there laying up beside me”) before revealing that the monster of the title and cover aren’t him, but Ciara (“Tell me you moving on and you don't love me no more, monster”). (Is he wrong about that? Well, he’s certainly honest.) The beats by everyone are bassier and sharper as a result: “Radical” plays like “Move That Dope” in the sense that it feels like 99% chorus and bass, while “Fetti” and “Wesley Presley” are minor cuts here that would have been the major highlight on any of his prior releases. “Codeine Crazy” is the first of many devastating songs to come.
Zaytoven’s strengths are his ability to fold in chamber instruments into trap beats more naturally than just about anybody else. Especially keyboards. His loops are rarely simple, and his keyboard sound is bright without ever taking away from Future’s darkness: “No Basic” and “Where I Came From” are triumphs in either artist’s long careers. The introduction of “Just Like Bruddas” before the 808s come in demonstrate as much: remove Future, and that could have been part of a jazz piano solo that wandered into a trap album. Add the beat, and it becomes pop bliss. I truly think that this remains Future’s best project, and helping seal the deal is that there’s no bullshit. There’s no room for bullshit: it’s only 9 tracks, dispensing of the radio hit early on (“Oooooh”) so that Future can brag about how “fuck on that bitch and we lay up” while Zaytoven’s string arrangement (we all go on and on about his keyboard playing when this might be his best beat) undermines him. But no disrespect to “Oooooh,” which hammers in its catchiness with one held non-word and a generous amount of autotune. Even though Future has a higher batting average with Metro Boomin and Southside, this mixtape glimpsed a stronger rapper-producer synergy that bested MadGibbs or Killer Mike & El-P.
The second-weakest of four projects that Future released in 2015, but it contains one of his greatest songs in “March Madness” so it’s perversely indispensable. “I didn't wanna fuck the bitch / The molly made me fuck her even though she average” is just so, so mean; it makes “You’re an idiot, babe / It’s a wonder that you still know how to breathe” seem polite. “March Madness” aside, it’s hard to pinpoint just what about 56 Nights doesn’t work compared to Beast Mode: both are produced by entirely one person (well, almost in this case); both have very similar run-times, although I think this one would be slightly shorter if you removed the insufferable skits. So I attribute it to the fact that Southside’s production just ain’t as unique’s as Zaytoven even though I admire the sound design: “Diamonds From Africa” sounds huge; the drums on “Trap N****s” are head-turning in their tsss sear; the drums on “Purple Coming In” are more exotic than Southside’s usual template. But for whatever reason, Future doesn’t assert himself nearly as much as he did on Beast Mode or will on DS2. The definitive ‘B’ album. Mixtape. Whatever.
Robert Christgau and Tiny Mix Tapes’ Jude Noel have already summarized DS2 in blurb reviews so perfectly and so succinctly that it feels folly to even try. I will say that “Thought It Was a Drought” remains one of the best rap songs of that year (I say this while looking directly at my digital copy of To Pimp a Butterfly) and the perfect summation of what made Future a dangerous and interesting persona. I will say that “Put the girl on a train, strapped a bird on her back, now she came back with change, ay” is delivered with the simplicity and finesse of Pusha T. I will say that “I Serve the Base” is filthy, filthy, filthy and quite possibly the grimiest, dirtiest (t)rap beat ever. I will say that “Where Ya At”’s beat is weirdly hypnotic in its shimmering opulence, and that while I know a lot of people feel that Drake always sucks the air of the room, I love his verse here because he had only just become larger than life so the boasts here feel like he’s being honest: “I’ll buy the neighbor’s house if they complain about the noise” is a line that was stupid and yet, I get the feeling that he means it, and the flow switches before that are just what the song needed. I will say that “Groupies” has that really fascinating squeal-hook at the 0:45 mark that ranks among the coolest sonic elements to ever happen on a Future album. I will say that I love how Future grunts “Pussy good enough to make me love you” the second time because the pussy that good, y’see. I will say that these first four songs make you anticipate a far more interesting second half that never comes, and for that reason alone I have a hard time regarding DS2 as Future’s best. The Zaytoven beat feels like it wandered in as a leftover from Beast Mode; “Rotation” has a beat that matches the album’s cover of a digitially-synthesized colourful cloud but always feels slight; “Slave Master” might have the best rapping on the record but it also has the worst choruses. The bonus tracks “The Percocet & Stripper Joint” and “Kno the Meaning” shouldn’t be missed. I love this album—it deserves a spot in my best 100 albums of that decade—but I wish I loved it more.
With the help of Drake, “Where Ya At” became Future’s highest-charting single even if it only made #28, and so the two rappers dropped a collection of b-sides as a gift for us that same year. “Jumpman” is a certified banger, and let me tell you, whenever we went out that winter in Toronto and this song came on, everyone jumped in unison on queue and for a few seconds, it truly felt like ‘what a time to be alive.’ Just for the first little bit, anyway; my mind wanders after Drake pulls out the word ‘Robitussin’ and his verse loses the momentum. “Digital Dash” is Metro Boomin and Southside digitizing the diamonds of the album cover and coming away with something special; it sounds like a sharper take of “My” (from Pluto 3D) with a better flow from Future to boot. That’s it. “Big Rings” and “Plastic Bag” are so, so lame; worse than “Grammys,” the Drake-Future collaboration that was the worst song on Views. And because they didn’t have enough songs, Drake and his producer 40 tack on “30 for 30 Freestyle” at the very end. “I just came from dinner where I ate some well-done seared scallops that were to die for / But I got bigger fish to fry” is just so embarrassing. Everything about it. The flow, the leap from scallops to fish, the very notion that this very rich person has no idea that you should not cook scallops well-done. That said, not nearly as dumb as “I wonder why the moon looks nice, girl / Maybe it’s just right for the night,” which was truly special in its insanity.
See you soon for the rest of his discography. If you enjoyed reading this issue of Free City Rhymes, then I’d love it if you subscribed and shared!