Fly Anakin: (The) Forever Dream Album Review

At the beginning of “The Times,” a smooth, diamond-in-the-back jam in the middle of his new album, (The) Forever Dream, Fly Anakin explodes into laughter. It seems to come out of nowhere, and leads Quelle Chris, who executive produced the record, into chuckling himself. There’s something in the room between them—an unheard joke, an ineffable energy—that we aren’t privy to. Suddenly, Mono En Stereo’s Blaxploitation-esque beat is that much more enveloping; we’re all in the Cadillac together, whipping through Anakin’s Richmond or Quelle’s Detroit, pungent smoke settling on the leather interior.

Snippets of laughter appear throughout (The) Forever Dream: Anakin chortles as his verse on “NOTTOOSHABBY” falls apart, the entire room erupts during a goofy freestyle session on “Dr. Phil (Skit),” and Lojii’s verse on “CheckOnMe” features a sample of Jadakiss’ iconic cackle. All these moments could’ve been edited out, but the decision to leave them in makes (The) Forever Dream that much more charming. These songs seem to form while we’re listening, as though their creators have invited us to kick it in the studio, emptying cigars, passing bottles, and yes-anding each joke. It’s the warmest, most welcoming record in Anakin’s discography, a testament to his and Quelle’s chemistry, and the joy they both feel when making music.

Though Quelle only produces a couple of tracks, he looms large over the record. He pops up in the margins of songs, appearing to kick a loose verse or provide an off-the-cuff hook. Quelle likes to constantly reinvent himself, reshaping his voice with each album to find new contours. Anakin, on the other hand, is a tireless technician, seeking out and expelling the impurities in his approach, honing each line until it lands like a drum roll. His records sound less like different versions of each other than increasingly refined versions of the same idea: an MC whose every song inches closer to a Platonic ideal.

Like a shoulder massage, Quelle’s presence softens some of Anakin’s rigidity and gently encourages him to take new risks. For over a decade, Anakin and his Mutant Academy comrades have been issuing stoned, soulful music that sits somewhere between the golden-era revivalism of early aughts Justus League and the dense trippiness of Backwoodz Studioz. The largely in-house production on Anakin’s breakout album, 2022’s Frank, introduced the Mutants’ dreamy, loop-based psychedelia to a larger audience, alongside beats from progenitors like Madlib and Evidence. Here, Quelle brings in producers from his stable of collaborators, including Chris Keys, Child Actor, and August Fanon, all of whom specialize in the woozy, heavy-eyed vibe Anakin tends to gravitate toward. (The) Forever Dream doesn’t stray too far from his usual palette, but it expands the scope, positioning Anakin as an auteur of mellifluous, multicolored rap music.