The Middle of Nowhere #3

Welcome back to another installment of the column. I got some more opinions to get off my chest so we’re back at the word doc. Lately, I’ve been thinking about this XXXTentacion album.

Revisiting 17

I got to watch XXXTentacion become a superstar right in front of me. Broward County is only about 3 hours south of my home base of Lakeland, Florida at the time. Accordingly, kids my age knew the status of every upload and every leak from an artist like X or Kodak Black. Word traveled quick around school; songs adored and idolized by suburban kids across America would reach my phone at 3k views. Anime edits would ravage my Instagram and YouTube algorithm within hours of a song’s released. To this day, I could recall a Dragon Ball Z fight kick for kick as “#ImSippinTeaInYoHood” ruins a pair of Gumy earbuds. XXXTentacion emboldened a legion of lousy rappers to feverishly upload to Soundcloud. He completely altered a high schooler’s lingo with the genesis of ‘vro.’ Recalling X’s freakish impact is exhausting, a rapper destined for fame as a generation became exceedingly concerned with aesthetics and far too young to think past it yet. Something about the onslaught of Soundcloud artists, their abrasive stylistic choices, and the wild west landscape of uploading was contagious in 2016/’17. But rather than follow the thread of riotous bass distorters that made him a star, his first big project was a quiet, acoustic affair. More surprisingly, it’s his seemingly softer side that made him endearing to people. Why?

XXXTentacion’s monologue to start 17 is a perfect summation of why young kids gravitated to him. “If you are not willing to accept my emotion and hear my words fully, do not listen. I do not value your money; I value your acceptance and loyalty.” It’s borderline cultish in dry language. But what made XXXTentacion alluring is how direct he was with his audience, for better or worse. He was painstakingly raw, open about his demons and frequently combative towards skeptics and haters on Twitter. He’d offer to run fades in between the lamentations of living and horny asides. He was very online. But it allowed X to get on the ground level and thank people who listened to his music and engage with them on a very personal basis. Whether he meant it as marketing or not, it was extremely effective. People, particularly middle and high school kids, would project their own feelings onto him and his music. They felt seen when listening to his music and he’d often empathize accordingly.

X would often sample Shiloh Dynasty, a largely anonymous singer who used to post covers and raw, guitar driven snippets on Instagram and Vine. Their voice was ghostly and despondent; it’s easy to see why X would take inspiration from them. X would extract the weight from these raw vocals and put them on lo-fi drums to sand away any edges and distinguishing characteristics. It was perfect in making something just sad enough to set the ambiance but never enough to ruin the chill vibes.

This all gives 17 a weird tug-of-war effect. Intention suggests this to be a very serious attempt at curing “or, at least numb your depression” as he states on the intro. “Jocelyn Flores” is about a friend of his who committed suicide after an excruciating bout with depression and how that affected his outlook. It resurfaces a lot of grief and PTSD he experienced growing up. It’s one of the few moments on the album that warrants empathy. Still, it’s an album written by a kid who hadn’t grown up yet or had the space and nurturing to properly grow and grapple with his issues. He was also 19 years old when the album came out and it shows. There are many times he can only muster up a description of his agony in bursts of cliches. His reflections on depression were often shallow; “Depression & Obsession” sees X lifelessly state that those two feelings “don’t mix well.” He flat out couldn’t find the words to describe his pain on “Orlando” because they “just don’t seem to compare.” “Everybody Dies in Their Nightmares” is droning, leaning on unspecific captions on Snapchat stories when your friend says “Don’t HMU </3.” There’s only so much people can do or say to empathize when there’s so little said in the first place. 17 is too vague to ever mine anything more than a mopey aesthetic.

The only time his writing becomes truly harrowing is when it bleeds into his own messy, gruesome allegations he would later admit were true. While the art and the artist can be divorced if the art created has a limited relationship with the artist’s everyday life, XXXTentacion was not that kind of artist. He was raw and honest in a way that was almost admirable. There was never a moment of doubt that X was putting on some facade for cheap marketing ploys, that even his negative publicity was purposeful in garnering attention. Everything he was existed in the music. It gets really gross on 17. The campfire effect of “Revenge” is especially eerie when he sings “I’ve dug two graves for us, my dear.” Considering his role as an abusive partner to his girlfriend, lines like “well, broken hearts break bones so break up fast” makes the skin crawl. “Carry On” might be the slimiest tactic to garner sympathy, starting his verse with “Trapped in a concept, falsely accused, misused, and misled, bitch, I’m hoping you fuckin’ rest in peace.” When dropped on a beat that’s supposed to signal a depressed man grasping for empathy, it feels grossly manipulative.

All things considered, his attempts at creating a dejected, despondent atmosphere to generate support worked. X, a kid who could hardly express himself and the demons he battled, gained a whole legion of kids who felt seen by someone who also couldn’t properly grapple with the problems they had. Additionally, X always prioritzed helping his fans above himself. If he couldn’t save himself, he hoped he could save the next kid. Peeling back the limited layers of 17 though, it only served as a vaguely sad aesthetic that would go on to be fetishized and devoured by the Content Mill™.

The Cut

• I liked it on first listen but Pi’erre Bourne’s new song “Good Movie” is a strange one. Gone is the bubblegum hooks and loose, colorful structure of TLOP 4, Pi’erre opts for something shockingly sterile.
• Larry June’s new album Spaceships on the Blade is far from my favorite of his — 2 P’z in a Pod with LNDN DRGS has far more personality, Out The Trunk much sunnier and tighter — but there’s still some incredible ‘Rise & Grind’ propaganda on here. “Organic Adjustments” is easily one of his best songs.
• Nav’s new song “Wrong Decisions” sounds like he’s taking it back to 2016. His best music is weightless; his robotic drone floats adrift in an ocean of reverb. Melancholy is an emotion he sells well.

• I was a little worried about the Roc Marciano and Alchemist album The Elephant Man’s Bones for a while. The single “Deja Vu” feels like if you made a rough sketch of a Roc Marciano song from memory. I’m happy to confirm that the album was pretty good. The beat on the self titled song feels like the dining room of your grandma’s house.
• Someone compared DJ Khaled albums to the All Star break, that artist’s aren’t on their A game, they’re just having fun. That sounds great in theory but no one sounds like they’ve been having fun for the past decade. Most artists respond to Khaled with voice memos that sound obligatory. It’s a totally different kinda autopilot.
• The Forever Story is okay. I struggle with finding any sort of identity for JID; his rapping can often lack distinction, a problem I find with a lot of Dreamville artists. Some songs sound like pointless playlist fodder, namely the songs with Kenny Mason. But songs like “Kody Blu 31” and the Spillage Village album in 2020, Spilligion, are enthralling in setting and tone. It’s frustrating listening to an artist so close to an interesting set of ideas drive off the path.
• Rod Wave apologist here: Beautiful Mind is a disappointingly lousy affair. It’s evident he’s really straining for ideas here. It’s not like he was making particularly diverse music; he’s a blues artist primarily but the emotional weight and complexity is noticeably thinner. “Sweet Little Lies” is one of his best songs though, an incredible hook with some of his most devastating writing to date.

Thanks for reading another installment of The Middle of Nowhere. I finally made a set of prices if you made it this far and want to support the column. For a group of 5 rapid fire topics of your choice for The Cut, it will be $10. If you want a long-form essay about a topic of your choosing, I’ll see if I approve of the topic (this is to weed out any gunk), it will cost $25. Hopefully, this strategy keeps me motivated to keep writing and will help support my goal in paying off my car debt. For inquiries, DM me on Twitter @calebcat23