Travis Scott – Rodeo

Let's, for a second, set aside all the rumors and accusations surrounding Travis Scott. About him stealing music from studios in Houston or his a little too quick rise to prominence. After two mixtapes, packed with literally the biggest names in music, and now this debut album, it's fair to say Travis Scott has literally zero value as a rapper. He can just barely put words together and there's a slight chance they technically rhyme. Nine out of ten times his rhymes make no sense. Take the hook on "Skyfall." It's like madlibs with material from (Atlanta) rappers that actually matter. The track lists on his projects read like vision boards for 15-year-old hypebeasts – "Drugs, You Should Try It," "Pornography". His entire shtick is nearly impossible to grasp.
But there is an evident aspect to his music both from a distance and even to Scott's detractors that is audibly appealing. His music has some of the biggest, cleanest, crispest basslines and 808s in rap history. It's hard to not enjoy. He works with the biggest producers in Atlanta, but they're stuff doesn't sound like this on their own. He also has quite the ear for melody. Again, the words don't make any sense but it's hard to get a tune like "Mamacita" out of your head. This is also where his music differs from all the artists critics complain that he rips off. Scott's style is entirely mechanical. When you lay his vocals over bass that's already destroying subwoofers, it's just going to work. But that's not what makes Future Future. That's not what makes Young Thug Young Thug. When Future's voice curls into a whimper on "Now," you can feel the pain in his voice. It literally takes a couple bars for you to connect with him on an emotional level. That doesn't even come close to happening with Scott. Scott's music barely scrapes the top level of the hip-hop fan's pyramid of intrinsic values.
The weird thing about Rodeo that even if those are the only type of songs you expect, it's a very underwhelming listen. The songs, again, make no sense together, alone, in whatever combination. His rolodex is impressive especially considering he has copied every guest on this album's steez to a tee. The beats are lackluster. The guest verses are equally unimpressive. If anything, maybe not so much given this album but his entire career, he has quite the ability to A&R. From placing WondaGurl beats on a Jay-Z album to bringing together Quan, Migos, Longway and Thug to literally having Justin Bieber and Young Thug on a song together. He'll probably never grasp what he's doing wrong musically, but his ideas look good on paper. It doesn't help that he doesn't seem to be a good person, but it might be the best idea for him to quit trying to be an artist at all. He doesn't make beats. He's not a strong writer. He's kind of funny looking. He may, however, be the right last minute ingredient for many a rapper's albums today.

Travis $cott - Days Before Rodeo

Travis Scott is culturally relevant because of how famous Kanye West is. Everything Kanye wears, everything he touches, everyone he meets, every musician whose music Kanye potentially, slightly enjoyed matters. Travis exists in this category. Once you remove this from the story, there isn't a lot left to get excited about.

Travis' history exists as follows: a Cruel Summer feature and a few Yeezus production credits. If his first mixtape Owl Pharoah solidified anything, it's that he really is an awful rapper. Take "Upper Echelon" for example, he raps like Shannon Sharpe does football highlights. His enunciation is muddled, his sentences are broken. Some words he used weren't even real words. You can legitimize his raps the same way you could trick yourself into thinking that Gudda Gudda's "got her nigga, grocery bag" line actually made sense, but ultimately nothing he says has much substance.

But hey, his beats are dope, right? Until you realize Owl Pharoah was almost entirely produced by other people, and his biggest production credit was someone else's beat. But the mixes are hot? It's safe to assume we can thank Anthony Kilhoffer and Mike Dean for that. Why were we supposed to like him again?

Days Before Rodeo is a step forward from the last project. Out of context, it honestly sounds good. Earlier this year, Travis helped out with A-Trak and Lex Luger's present day Atlanta-influenced Low Pros EP. Rodeo continues that Atlanta tradition. Featured heavily are some of the city's newest talents – Rich Homie Quan, Migos and Young Thug. Almost too obvious though is their influence on Travis' latest style. His autotuned delivery is literally an amalgamation of those three acts and also Chief Keef, Future and even Kanye. Not just stylistically but in terms of subject matter. There's all sorts of gun talk and drug talk here that we didn't hear on the last project.

The question becomes does the biting matter if the music is good enough? How do we judge something we're not supposed to like? Travis may have found his pocket vocally (the hook on "Don't Play" is great), but the mistakes are still there. Seriously, what the hell is he saying on "Skyfall?" His verse on "Sloppy Toppy" is like madlibs with phrases already heard on songs on the radio.

He's like Kirby, inhaling the talents of rappers that already made names for themselves but without it leading to any victories. Those other artists provide easy templates to trace, but he still has to fill in the rest of the picture and that's not something he's proven he can do. He's spent most of his career hiding his face, and maybe this is appropriate as the guy has no real identity.