Love (the) Ominous World is Blu’s third album in 2024. In March, he released Out of the Blue with Shafiq Husayn, a sequel to their 2018 album The Blueprint. A pairing with Evidence, Los Angeles, dropped in July. These projects revolve around familiar concerns: fulfilling his hip-hop ambitions, honoring without falling prey to neighborhood (gang) customs, and trying to find spiritual sustenance. “I be rewriting my records like I’m trying to perfect this,” he raps on “Chucks.” It’s the nature of musicianship. Eventually, an artist defines his territory. To his credit, Blu has put out some very good work after completing a pioneering run of lo-fi rap projects (Her Favorite Colo(u)r and Jesus), reuniting with producer Exile for 2012’s Give Me My Flowers While I Can Still Smell Them, and embarking on what could be described as a post-Below the Heavens career of easygoing, melodically bright, lyrically engaging backpack rap. Bad Neighbor, his 2015 venture with MED and Madlib, remains a fan favorite. As for Ominous World? It suffers from too many guest spots. Georgia Anne Muldrow dominates “Hello L.A.” and Kurupt takes command of “Chucks” with a fiery cameo. The unfortunately titled “Suge Knight” finds Blu taking a label meeting with the notorious boss during Death Row’s ill-fated “new and untouchable” era in the mid-Aughts. “A Song Called Precipitation” reprises Below the Heavens gem “Dancing in the Rain,” albeit with an environmental twist. On “Smack,” he shares the mic with another blog era star, Fashawn. They’re both onetime prospects who crafted solid indie careers for themselves yet arguably deserved much more. Exile released Love (the) Ominous World on his Dirty Science imprint.
Boldy James & Conductor Williams, Across the Tracks
Across the Tracks is Boldy James’ second release this year. The first, Penalty of Leadership, found the Detroit rapper collaborating with Nicolas Craven as he explored the consequences of a near-fatal car accident. The project sounded revelatory as James subtly pushed beyond his comfort zone of street pharmaceuticals and male power dynamics. Across the Tracks finds him reverting to form. He calls himself “Brick James” on “The Ol’ Switcheroo,” and claims on “Off-White Lumberjacks” that he’s “been trapping through The Wire just like Wee-Bey.” It’s an environment where “good writing” — to use an oft-abused music critic cliché — consists of illustrating a drug hustler’s lifestyle in colorful language, not thematic exposition or narrative tension. A sole example of the latter is “Flying Trapeze Act,” where James tells a story about being criminally investigated: “Tightroping in the street, this shit is death defying/When your man’s a witness in your case testifying.” Conductor Williams offers fantastic loops, as always, but it’s unclear whether James truly elevates them or simply settles into the beats like comfortable shoes. The 26-minute excursion feels too easy, like lightwork. Near Mint released Across the Tracks.