Denzel Curry has outperformed every other mainstream rapper in the last 10 years, and it isn’t particularly close. Not only has Curry dropped consistently exciting projects at a staggering rate, but he has also reinvented his sound and persona from the ground up on every major release. He has proven himself to be a top-tier lyricist and performer, all while having a near-perfect ear for production, consistently operating at a conceptual level and creating new worlds in every style he explores.
Curry clearly has a deep respect for all things hip-hop, both in his odes to its history as well as his chameleon-like ability to execute upon a number of subgenres. His collaborations and homages never feel forced, and he has clearly matured as both an artist and a person throughout his career.
So when Curry and Kenneth Blume dropped ii, a spiritual successor to their previous effort UNLOCKED, there was a fascinating realization: Curry has never truly made a record like this. Despite the album having so many of the conventions that you would expect a rapper’s rapper like Curry to be naturally drawn to — soul samples, boom bap beats, witty punchlines and dense rhyme schemes — it’s never something he has tried. While it’s his first attempt at a “bars only” album (largely without his DMX-style affectations, melodic hooks or hypnotic trap beats), Curry knocks it out of the park, just as he has done with all his previous work.
Curry’s growth as a writer stands out in several expertly penned verses. “CANDLELIGHT” combines Curry’s typical wit with nuclear confidence, knocking out listeners with every lyrical trick in the book. Wordplay (“readin’ you pussies, that’s hieroglyphics”), alliteration (“holy man, heavenly saint, the Earth holdin’ holy hands”) and clever references (“Won’t follow commandments, but got a pocket full of stones”) make the song so airtight it feels like Curry forgot to breathe.
With this said, this lyrical growth is not strictly technical. Curry’s ever-evolving social commentary and self-reflection are present in full force on ii. Despite being largely dedicated to a scathing diss against a duplicitous colleague, “COLD NIGHT IN HELL” reminds Curry’s adversary and his listeners who the real enemy is, rapping “Worry ’bout this ice on me when there’s men in mask about.” These political undertones are more fully realized on the closer “DIFFERENCE,” where Curry reflects on the economic asymmetry of the rap game he finds himself in. He brings the braggadocio with his first few verses, but swiftly pivots on the line “wait a whole cotton-pickin’ minute” and proceeds to pierce the veil of success that many of his peers live under. Curry aptly points out that the only way for most to get ahead is to step on others and that most of the charity given by those around him is performative. Get too wowed by Curry’s propulsive flows and shiny flexes and you might miss the ominous character of these final moments.
Kenneth Blume III is on his best behavior as well, delivering a series of beats that exemplify the beauty and grit of Curry’s classic lyricism. It’s clear that Blume’s time as a producer in modern rock for bands like Geese and Weezer has inspired his hip-hop production, from the jazzy guitar licks on “GONE FISHING” to the stabby Indonesian rock inclusions on “CANDLELIGHT.” These colorful, rock-centric loops go a long way in characterizing the verses on this album, which may otherwise blur together in a less dynamic producer’s hands.
Still, the production and rapping do not simply complement each other on this record. There is a frightening level of synergy between the two, as Curry often uses the vocal chops that Blume inserts as a part of the verse itself.
“PRODUCT” sees Curry initially using a woman’s voice singing “in my life” to refer to those who want to ride his coattails out of economic hardship. However, in his verses, Curry raps such that the very same sample reads as “end my life.” Despite the word-smithing genius, it’s a blink-and-you’ll-miss-it moment, and a testament to Curry’s restraint. It’s incredibly clear that Blume did more than send Curry a folder of beats in an email; this combination of highly intentional production choices and focused song concepts amount to a chemistry that puts most rapper-producer pairings to shame.
That same chemistry may leave some feeling that this record is running on autopilot, with neither artist swinging for the fences in an extraordinary fashion. However, that sentiment fails to appreciate the value of an artist like Curry. Curry’s catalogue is as wide as it is deep, and there is no telling what he will conquer in the future. Will every new album be a towering achievement above the previous? Not necessarily. But Curry has proven to be insanely reliable. What we should take away from ii is the same thing listeners took away from his previous works: We are never going to hear this version of Denzel Curry again.
Daily Arts Writer Nathaniel Evans can be reached at natevan@umich.edu.
