The album portrays the entertainment industry as a relentless, soul-crushing machine.
The sequel is mostly uninspired, but Butler’s heavy remains a compelling bozo force.
While the music is big and hulking, the smaller details seem to have been glossed over.
The band spends much of the album’s half-hour runtime reliving the past.
The album feels more like a product for mass consumption than a showcase of the rapper’s skills.
The rapper’s ambitions are grand, but the album attempts to do a lot while saying little.
The album is easily the rapper’s most giddy, momentum-building effort to date.
The band’s adherence to formula undercuts the visceral punch that has been their appeal.
The singer and poet’s Dunya emerges as a stunning work of personal reflection.
The rapper’s first album in 11 years is driven by a clear sense of personal and artistic vision.
The album succumbs to all of the familiar pitfalls of contemporary hip-hop.
The rapper shows little interest in pushing himself out of his immediate comfort zone.
Despite all the stern swaggering, the album is deeply unserious.
The rapper has narrowed his vision to the point that he can’t see the world around him.
The album plays like a TikTok video: attention-grabbing, disposable, and instantly forgettable.
The album largely finds the producer confidently carving out his own identity as an electronic music innovator.
The album delivers a sound that’s devoid of a distinct artistic identity.
There’s a sense throughout the album that the Los Angeles rapper is trying to make up for lost time.
The transition from handheld to home console has done the game little to no favors.
While not always successful, the album is as forward-minded as it is captivating.