Something has changed for Brockhampton with ‘Sugar’. The 2019 single, a nondescript and charming ballad about adolescence, love and heartbreak, was by many statistics the group’s most successful song – it is their only entry on Billboard’s Hot 100, peaking at number 66; it is platinum certified by the RIAA; it is the band’s first song to receive an official remix, starring Dua Lipa. “Sugar” is also their most traditional track, structured to suit the members in attendance: guest Ryan Beatty sings the inviting chorus; Dom McLennon and Matt Champion rap solid verses; Bearface provides a pre-chorus and the outro; and leader Kevin Abstract sings the bridge. Nobody raps about One Direction; there are no loud, flashy production tricks; and it is done in a neat 205 seconds. In the best way, it could be someone’s song.
Roadrunner: new light, new machine, the sixth album from the rowdy but sensitive hip-hop collective, keeps this focus on melody and economy, resulting in the group’s most focused and impressive record. This is Brockhampton in their most efficient way, scaling back the instrumental and mournful attempts at self-examination. Previously, Brockhampton songs were long and incoherent, which made their albums long and incoherent as well. A signature Brockhampton beat, meanwhile, has been built with a unique, often crazy, loop: “Boogie” has a screeching siren; “Gold” has an arpeggio; “Boy Bye” has what I can best describe as pizzicato MIDI violin.
The beats are more subtle Roadrunner, with the drive down and emphasis on the mood: wistful bliss on ‘Chain On’ and ‘When I Ball’, passionate swagger on ‘Bankroll’. Without the rudimentary bells and whistles in the foreground, the music is heavy and even luscious, as with the suite of ‘Bankroll’, ‘The Light’ and ‘Windows’, all co-produced by Abstract, Romil Hemnani and Jabari Manwa. On these three songs, the album’s strongest series, you can feel the brash confidence of the rappers, whether they are boisterous or open up. It’s captivating.
Since their inception, Brockhampton has prioritized uncontrolled creativity and unfiltered self-expression over discipline or structure. That’s why their songs have too many verses, their albums have too many failed experiments, and that’s how you get something like that Iridescence‘Honey’, which feels like a collection of rough drafts sewn together. Roadrunner puts pressure on this scattered energy and the mood is consistent, even exuberant. Only one track – the well-deserved posse version ‘Windows’ with a thumping Houston-style beat – features a plethora of verses, while the other highlight the members’ specific talents, such as when Merlyn Wood plays hype man on’ Buzzcut ‘.
The group also continues to blur the line between hip hop and pop. The rap beats are polished enough to complement the boy band cuts, which maintain a metronomic quality. Especially the pop song ‘I’ll Take You On’ is a triumph, balancing a quietly blaring backbeat with love-sick harmonies. Despite their focus on colorful individuality, they sound best when they finally merge into a synchronized unity.
Their newfound discipline extends to their signature confessionals. In the past, a Brockhampton number felt like an opportunity to dig up and explain every possible trauma, but it continues Roadrunner, their lives leak through in compelling fragments. On the opening “Buzzcut,” Kevin Abstract broaches his colorful rapping with suggestive mini-scenes: “Thank God you let me crash on your couch”, “My whole family swore.” He does the same on “The Light,” rapping stray lines like, “I was broke and desperate, leaning on my best friends.” We don’t need much more.
The darkness is most evident in ‘The Light’, where Joba describes his father’s suicide and its haunting aftermath in the opera. Joba’s story is not linear and puts the listener in his maelstrom: “With loss, aimless”, “I hope it was painless”, “I know you cared”, “Heard my mother scream”, “I miss you. ” His vocals are delicately fuzzed into the mix, not so much burying Joba’s words as immersing him in the music. It may be the most poignant moment Brockhampton has ever recorded.
Elsewhere they sound liberated. Matt Champion is their best rapper, and he stars here. His lines might not mean much, but they’re great to mimic, like when he raps “ Nightmares, it’s frightened the moment Freddy tucks you in ” on “ Windows, ” or the way he says, “ This is grilling a jam for you and you contractions / For the people in the back who are on their pointed toes, “on” Don’t Shoot Up the Party. Everyone sounds like the best versions of themselves: focused, dedicated, inspired. The joy of being a collective continues in every bar and hook. For a change, it’s a Brockhampton album that doesn’t tell you what to do. think or feel; it just sounds good.
Buy: Rough Trade
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