K Camp has the melodic half of the battle won, which is enough to keep a skeptical eye on him in 2015. "'Cut Her Off' is a great song because it's an emotion, and he's being true about it in that moment,” André 3000 said in an interview this year. The hope is K Camp will shed the immature attitude toward women fast, while continuing to refine his strong pop-minded sensibilities. On In Due Time EP, he does so repeatedly, whether it’s adrenalized instructions to turn up ("Turn Up the Night") or effortless love letters to his sole source of motivation ("Money Baby"). It would be disingenuous to ignore this, just as it would be dishonest not to admit K Camp can write one hell of a catchy song. Let’s address the unavoidable first: Atlanta rapper K Camp’s hummable hit "Cut Her Off" bested Chris Brown’s "Loyal" as this year’s ugliest ode to dismissive misogyny, an unendearing accomplishment to say the least. And on the arresting second half of the batshit "Throw Away", the tape potentially reveals its true identity as an angry and confused break-up record. He floats over "My Savages" while reflecting on success and his incarcerated friends not there to see it in person. He unapologetically showcases his indulgent narcissism ("Fetti", the title track), but as usual, it’s the rapper’s idiosyncratic and unpredictable approach to writing hooks and verses that keeps the tape from drowning. Then the R&B love story of our age dissolved, and Future reminded us he’s still the guy who once said, "If that’s your hoe, that’s my hoe, too." The majority of Monster, released in October, finds Future shifting his own narrative back to the perpetually leaning, carnal-driven stoic street-rap fans fell for on early tapes like Streetz Calling and Dirty Sprite. Meaghan GarveyĪfter the refreshing success of the Auto-Tune ballad "Turn on the Lights" and a highly publicized and envied-by-all engagement to Ciara, Future was recast as rap’s Fabio, a masculine heartthrob unafraid to let his guard down in the name of love. There’s actually a song by the same title on We Run the City 4, but its completely different, scrapping the DJ Mustard slickness for more Cash Money worship. But the narratives are the glue, with plainspoken detail that perfectly cuts to the chase: "My plans after high school simple, get scrilla/ My heroes ain’t wear no capes, they’re chinchillas/ Living in a city where a nigga with a job is a nobody, while the dealers treated like gods." Doughboyz are capable of making a crossover hit with the right push, it could’ve been "My Young Niggaz" with Jeezy and YG, off last year’s CTE comp #ItsThaWorld 2. There are definitely hooks here ("Boss the Fuck Up"), and a bounce that sits somewhere between B.G.
Many of the individual Doughboyz’ solo careers thrived this year, too-Big Quis’ My Turn, full of clever, workmanlike motivational anthems, was a highlight-but they’re at their best together on We Run the City 4. Although, this year did make a pretty strong case for the enduring relevancy of the rap group: Migos and Rae Sremmurd deservedly dominated the radio, and Young Thug and Rich Homie Quan found inspiration in one another as Rich Gang. The Detroit group is signed to Jeezy’s CTE label, but Jeezy doesn’t show up on the tape, which is made up of 75 minutes of raw but well-crafted humanist hustler music, more indebted to Y2K Mannie Fresh or Beats by the Pound than any of the dominant narratives in 2014 rap.
David Drakeĭoughboyz Cashout have not updated their official Twitter account in over a year and they presumably do not give a fuck that the fourth installment of their We Run the City series was basically critically ignored this year. Rude, crude, and undeniably bawdy, BeatKing's barrelling rap style hit without a wink, letting the jokes dawn on you in time delay. Succeeded by his Pole Sex EP and a strong collaborative album with Gangsta Boo, Gangsta Stripper Music 2 was the moment his sound really seemed to cohere: the improvised punchlines delivered with a straight face, production that seemed to take up physical space, and strong conceptual songwriting that reflected a glint of the humor that pervades his lyrics. This year, though, he broke out as a solo artist beyond the trending topics. Houston rapper BeatKing's rise wouldn't have been possible without the Internet, and his willingness to play court jester with its many memes-an attention-grabbing approach that could even result in occasional great music. To national ears, Texas has become so defined by its DJ Screw-oriented history-now in large part a memory as the final remnants of its physical mixtape trade wash away-that it's become difficult for artists from the state to develop a distinct aesthetic of their own.