Despite the hyper-kinetic beats he’s supplied with, Brown invariably finds the pocket. On the underscores-helmed “Copycats,” he steers through squelchy bass, glitchcore blips and bloops, and chiptune synths. On the frenzied “1L0v3myL1f3!,” he effortlessly floats over heavy drum-and-bass. The nearly drumless “1999” is one of his most impressive performances across the record; he raps with an adrenalized, breathless kineticism atop a relentless flurry of industrial noise, and his lines are often so eye-popping (see: “My bitch be thick like Mewtwo / On everyone phone like U2”) that they never get buried in the mix, and JOHNNASCUS brings it all home with piercing, distorted screams fit for a hardcore record.
It’s one of the most exhilarating parts of Stardust: Brown finds ways to rap alongside the high-octane rush without succumbing to the din. He sounds triumphant, like someone who’s overcome hardship, sitting gleefully atop a precipitous mountain, amazed by his own abilities. That feeling of amazement is vicarious. Notably, Stardust is the first full record Brown has made since becoming sober, and its overarching themes of redemption and beating the odds, rapped with athletic dexterity over clamorous beats, hit with heightened gravitas. They exude a determination to be heard above the noise.
The hyperpop milieu also emphasizes Brown’s omnivorous approach to his craft. “Copycats” boasts his chameleonic tendencies with its refrain, asserting his triple-threat renown as a “rap star, pop star, [and] rock star.” But his novelty isn’t exactly new. He has always operated this way. It’s another hard pivot for a man that’s become known for them: Charli XCX and Purity Ring features on 2013’s Old, an album executive-produced by Q-Tip, a full-length collaboration with JPEGMAFIA, an introspective LP rapped almost entirely in his natural timbre, an energetic verse on the new Jane Remover album. This time, however, the sonic influences are a direct byproduct of Brown’s personal life and, by extension, his lyrical material.
In rehab, during the daily 30-minute window where he was allowed to use his phone, he’d spend it listening to 100 gecs, whose influence is palpable. Although he did make a track with Dylan Brady, it was ultimately discarded to be used for another project. Instead, Brown surrounds himself with hyperpop’s new guard, a coterie of mostly queer artists, such as femtanyl, 8485, and IssBrokie, whose cutting-edge idiosyncrasies and dialed-in performances help keep Stardust from feeling like a vacuous pastiche.
The only area where Stardust falls short is in one of its recurring collaborations: spoken-word passages from Frost Children’s Angel Prost. Her poems, often tucked at the ends of songs like they are on lead single “Starburst,” bouncy house cut “Lift You Up,” and percussive anti-ballad “RIGHT FROM WRONG,” are occasionally afflicted with clunky phrasing (“quirkifying your life” and “like a vegetarian with a carnivore spirit” are among the biggest offenders”). These taint what are otherwise some of the most thrilling moments of the record. But such a big swing is liable to precede a big miss. Brown, though, pulls off an electrifying home run. Like what Vince Staples and SOPHIE accomplished on “Yeah Right” back in 2017, we have one of our greatest living emcees rapping his ass off over unorthodox, glitched-out beats. “Now I made it past a decade / Who the top? / Dot and Thebe and me / That’s big three,” he raps on the Quadeca-featuring opening track “Book of Daniel.” And you know what? Hell yeah. [Warp]
Grant Sharples is a writer, journalist and critic. His work has also appeared in Interview, Uproxx, Pitchfork, Stereogum, The Ringer, Los Angeles Review of Books, and other publications. He lives in Kansas City.
