Welcome to Mixdown, an ongoing series where Pitchfork staffers and contributors talk about mixtapes and mixes that may not be covered in our reviews section but are worth discussing. Today, Baltimore Sun writer Wesley Case saddles up to talk about DJ Lil Keem's new mixtape, which features Future, Young Thug, and more, along with a new release from Atlanta's K. Camp.
DJ Lil Keem: Smoker's Anthem 2
Corban Goble: This anthology bottles up the Atlanta sound of right now and comes heavy with the Young Thug, Metro Boomin’, Peewee Longway, and Migos, among others. (The inclusion of two songs from Future’s Honest—“Special” and “T-Shirt”—feels like corking the bat). Wesley, what sticks out to you about this? How would you describe the signature sounds of Smoker’s Anthem?
Wesley Case: The cover art, release date (two days after 4/20), and “How High” skit-snippets would make you think this tape is a soundtrack for the blunted, but it jumps out to me as a handy survey of the Atlanta rap that has been so dynamic and intriguing in the past year or so. The two Honest tracks are fitting because Future looms large over the tape—from the vocal tics and repetitive lyrical deliveries to the unhinged, frenetic flows. I like Smoker’s Anthem because it’s a clean entry point to the next generation of ATLiens. They all sound influenced by Future, but you can hear everyone rubbing off on each other.
CG: Something others have pointed out about Future’s work is how his biggest weapons are melody and repetition, and the production is a huge part of this sound, too. The guys carrying the ball there—Metro Boomin’, C-Note—give the vocalists a lot of space to get creative in. But yeah, the naturals show themselves—Future and Young Thug just seem to know exactly what to do with these beats, and other less-spacy rappers in that scene (PeeWee, Young Dolph, Rich Homie Quan) also find ways to bring the thunder. I think Honest, which is something I know we both really fuck with, shows that a producer like Metro Boomin’ is pushing his sound forward—lots of beats on that album had ambient and orchestral elements, which deviated nicely from typical trap sounds while still being anchored in that style. One could say that Metro Boomin’...
WC: WANT SOME MOREEEE! The hooonoorraaabllle C-Noooote. Sorry, Corban, can’t help but hear/say the producers’ drops, even when I read them.
WC: Another thing with the Future tracks — you can also hear how far these green artists still have to go to hit that level. But performance-wise there’s no half-stepping on Smoker’s Anthem, these guys are fully committed in the booth (maybe not with lyrical content but that’s another conversation). Out of these artists, Young Thug is clearly next — his songs, just like his already-being-bitten delivery, jump out of the speakers here. The track “Yah-Yah” with Yiki really shows how he can create hooks out of seemingly nothing.
CG: Every time you hear Thug, no matter if it’s something that doesn’t seem finished, you’re just like, "The kid's a star!"
WC: OK, you just reminded me — the tape could use some Soulja Boy. Just saying. But one last thing to point out: The final song, “Money Made Me Do It” by Spade Kosta has the line in its chorus, “Money turned a baby mama to a stripper / Money turned a rapper to Illuminati.” Shut the internet down, Spade Kosta has put the Illuminati talks to bed once and for all.
K. Camp: IDT
CG: Staying in Atlanta, which is pretty much where I think we’re going to be for the near future, I wanted to talk about K. Camp’s new-ish EP, IDT. I came across K. Camp a couple of months ago when I was working on a story about the NBA, and a player mentioned that “Money Baby” was big in their locker room. (I should say this was a Trail Blazer in the post Black Portland reality we all live in, though it doesn’t seem like any of the Blazers have actually listened to that tape.)
If you’re not familiar with “Money Baby”, it’s pretty much exactly the hook-heavy, hedonist anthem you expect would sound huge on arena speakers. Wesley, you've said you hear the similarly-styled “Cut Her Off” on Baltimore radio, and I can’t say that it’s made it here… but maybe it will? What’s K. Camp’s deal?
WC: He’s not a staple in the 410, but I have to say Baltimore radio shows K. Camp love. Let me take it back quickly: I first heard him on another radio hit here from a couple years ago—Mykko Montana’s “Do It". I was bummed to read a recent interview with K. Camp where he basically said he wrote the hook but had a falling out with Mykko. The chorus to “Do It” is so immediate that there’s no doubt whoever wrote it knows what he’s doing hook-wise. That same indelible appeal is all over IDT. In that interview, K. Camp said he fell in love with hearing his voice on record, which I’ve always found is a quality in rappers with strong, confident deliveries. He doesn’t do too much, but like Rich Homie Quan, almost every line he raps—verse, ad-lib, or chorus —is instantly catchy and hard not to sing along to.
CG: Yeah, it’s like all the melody with none of the weird. The weird is exchanged for, you know, sex. Also, I think with the other Atlanta stuff we’ve talked about—K. Camp is definitely in the same ballpark, but different in a couple of important ways—the focus is on the style/sound and absolutely not the lyrics.
WC: No one enjoys being that listener who cries out, “What about the lyrics?!” in a Helen Lovejoy scream, but it’s obvious these guys would benefit from expanding topically. (Like, PeeWee Longway spends the whole opener of Smoker’s Anthem telling us he starts his day with molly, lean, and weed—where’s breakfast? That sounds rough!)
CG: More like PeeWee LongDAY, am I right? I’ll show myself out.
WC: Go think long and hard about what you just did, Corban. But, of course, this brings me back to Future, and specifically him dismissively rapping, “You ain’t even trying to be special.” Most of these younger guys have built strong foundations—they’re close to figuring out the hard part, developing a style—but you wish they differentiated themselves more. A good place to start would be what they choose to rap about. (K. Camp has a better grasp of this—he reflects on his mom quitting her job to help his career and the loss of his friend, Lil Jeff, in the intro.)
CG: We're talking about rap lyrics, so that's how you know it's about that time. Wesley, thank you for coming through and giving your blood, sweat, and tears to Mixdown this week.
WC: You couldn't have known what I did for this. (I skipped lunch).