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HomeMusicMIKE / Tony Seltzer: Pinball II Album Review

MIKE / Tony Seltzer: Pinball II Album Review

When it comes to being the drippiest brand an ascendant rapper could wear, nothing beats Chrome Hearts right now. And out of all the Chrome Hearts pieces MIKE could have purchased for a courtside fit at a recent Knicks game, he chose a pair of understated eyeglasses for $2000. It was a fittingly chill pick-up from a luxury label known for flashy silver jewelry and jeans that vibe more with Playboi Carti. But like Clark Kent throwing on a pair of specs to blend in with the masses, MIKE’s new Tony Seltzer-produced Pinball II demonstrates how even indie hip-hop’s superhero sometimes hangs up his cape to make some viciously fun flex raps on his own terms.

When MIKE first emerged in the 2010s, his pensive coming-of-age raps sharply contrasted the hyperactive, ethereal energy of clout-goggled SoundCloud rap contemporaries. But since then, MIKE’s music has brightened under a spotlight that’s turned him into an underground icon on par with mentor Earl Sweatshirt. Pinball II doesn’t boast Opium-style rage beats or radio-ready singles ripe for a Weeknd feature; instead MIKE shares a recipe for rock-star aura on “WYC4,” where slowly dripped raps weave a come-up story about rejecting the hustler’s lifestyle to grind for the rap money that earned him “Cartier like Playboi.” Like most MIKE songs, there’s just one verse effortlessly tied together with a fleeting hook. It’s up to Seltzer’s ear-rattling distorted bass and intergalactic synths to elevate MIKE’s matter-of-fact raps to nearly the same heights as the rocket ship producer Harry Fraud commanded on Carti’s “Location.”

If there’s any beatmaker prepared to counter the viral narrative that the pit at a MIKE show is a place to read a book or play chess, it’s Brooklyn-based Seltzer, who electrified last year’s Pinball. By the time Seltzer first linked with MIKE on 2017’s May God Bless Your Hustle, he was already orchestrating a generation of local New York talent with beats that could turn tiny Brooklyn DIY venues into Travis Scott-esque rage pits. Whether it was high-octane drill slaps for Brooklyn outfit Gloss Gang, ghoulish beats for Lower East Side tread rap demon Trippjones, or gothic trap ballads for Uptown Manhattan’s Vinny Fanta, a “Hey Tony” tag promised to shake the room as hard as any 2016 XXL Freshman. Seltzer’s track record with artists like Wiki and Jay Critch demonstrates his dexterity: meeting artists where they’re at while constructing a distinct sound of his own, shaped by everything from old VHS-tape samples to death metal drums.

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