After years of teasing and promising and lying, Playboi Carti, the prodigal hype-baiter, has finally returned with a new album, Music. It’s a hulking, convulsing mishmash of tracks spanning production styles and time periods, with some of his most electric raps, frenetic flows, and anarchic song structures to date. The range of bangers is wide enough to soundtrack the next few months of TikTok hype edits while also satisfying your millennial brother who fondly remembers going berserk to Waka Flocka Flame in college. So many new voices, too: Goblin Carti, Evil Warlock Carti, Spitting With Glee Carti, Gargling Broth Carti. The sprawl is part of the album’s appeal, and if anyone could pull off a 30-track marathon in this style, it’s Playboi Carti. But what if we got the chance to go in with forceps and scalpel and carve this album down to perfection? Here’s my attempt.
Excisions
“K Pop”
So much of this album feels like it was focus-grouped to thrash live, and “K Pop,” a revision of “Ketamine,” is like rage-rap composed by Hans Zimmer. The guitar bolts and sweeping synths beg you to imagine Carti as some kind of shadow boss, levitating in the sky like SpongeBob going Goofy Goober mode. I can handle only one over-the-top arena epic per album—give me the reckless slaughter of “HBA.”
“Philly”
Carti’s goofy lyrics and toad-mouthed Molly-blurts can’t save the Travis Show from sabotaging the momentum. Send La Flame and this saloon-trap beat back to Astroworld.
“Fine Shit”
Some unnerving lyrics and a beat that feels torpid and trite compared to the rest of the album’s mad chaos.
“Wake Up F1lthy”
I’m happy to report that I got exclusive access to the brief Carti sent F1lthy and BNYX®: “Epic Cyborg Space Rage Opera Type Beat.” This is where Music almost stumbles into Utopia territory. It’s all empty theatrics and celestial swishes, with a Travis Scott guest verse so feeble it hits like Grok.
“Jumpin”
There are some nice little vocal tics between Carti and Lil Uzi Vert, but this instrumental is forgettable. It’s limp in both sound (hits like a cousin of the beat for Future’s half of “Life Is Good”) and lyrics, with dated references to Pink Tape and Narcissist.
“Trim”
The best features on Carti albums lose themselves in the atmosphere, drowned and rewired by the weirdness. Flashback to “Teen X”: Future imitated Carti’s own baby voice so the two were like a family choir tag-teaming in Martianese. “Trim,” featuring Future, sounds way too controlled, too clean. DJ Swamp Izzo tries his best to bring the havoc, but it feels more like Carti guesting on a Future tape.
“Cocaine Nose”
I’m all for “burnt music,” the synapse-frying shit that feels like mucus in the back of your throat and smells like smoke. But “Cocaine Nose” has all the juddering grotesquerie of Carti’s Whole Lotta Red hits without the relentless assault of “On That Time” or “JumpOutTheHouse.” It feels like Carti heard Destroy Lonely’s If Looks Could Kill and was like, Here’s how you actually do rock-rage, son. Maybe I need to hear it live to get the full effect, but “Pop Out” is my preferred burnout banger here.
