Anticipation is high for his commercial release, but Sorry 4 the Wait might prove a point another, more cynical point I’ve been reluctantly weighing since clean Wayne was released.
#Lil wayne moment clean how to
Wayne rarely releases weak commercial singles, and his recent run from his forthcoming album, the Carter IV, proves the point: The monsters “6’7”” and “John” are still interminable after half a year, and the more recent “ How to Love” transposes the moment’s current Drake-worshiping emotionalism into Taylor Swift territory (which is, obviously, awesome). So it makes sense that now, after stumbling through a possible addiction, lyrical brilliance, a greatest rapper alive pedestal, and a stint in prison (following a gun charge the NYPD used DNA technology to connect him to, albeit tangentially) on his recent mixtape Sorry 4 the Wait, Lil Wayne sounds gleaming. Wayne’s obviously the godfather of today’s much-touted “weirdness movement” in rap music, though psychic progeny like Lil B and SpaceGhostPurrp are crafting odder (if not stonier) movements, and Death Grips and B L A C K I E are releasing harder (and much better) rap-metal. The crowd just wanted to hear “Lollipop.” It was awkward, much in the same way Marina Abramovic making eye contact while nude and weeping is awkward - there’s no roadmap for where to go, what to do. Possibly one of the most accidentally performance-art concerts in rap music ever was his 2008 appearance at Summer Jam, in which Wayne, clearly inebriated on some unidentifiable concoction, brought a previously hyped 40,000 or so crowd to a halt by pounding a poorly-tuned axe with impunity, vaguely crooning syllables into a microphone.
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He leered like Peter Jackson’s Gollum, and when he started noodling on guitars, the effect was that of someone play-acting in a rock film, waiting for a soloing overdub that never came. His metaphors were creatively unparalleled in rap, his voice a smoked out croak. Remember when Lil Wayne was the weird one? In 2006, when Weezy’s career started picking up its second wind with the release of still-astonishing Dedication 2 mixtape, he was the touchstone for avant-gardism in rap, the purped-out, bloodshot-eyed spitter whose magic in the booth could have been conjured by mysticism as easily as anything else (though you’d probably put some of your money on weed).