Experimental Rap is a testament not to JPEGMAFIA’s creativity, but ego. Characteristics like bitterness and entitlement fail to endear beyond the Baltimore-based rapper’s archetypes. His sixth album’s reputation was damaged on arrival once its rollout consisted of an online spat with Earl Sweatshirt, itself born from Peggy’s proclamation that he is best experimental rapper of his generation.
Ah, you know, that’s fine; having a high opinion of oneself is as traditional a hip hop pillar as rapping, turntablism or breakdancing. However, Experimental Rap warrants little braggadocio. I don’t think it’s a total waste of time, but I’d have happily considered JPEGMAFIA the rapper of the 2020s, or at least one of them, and this album loses touch with his run. LP is his most acclaimed record, Scaring the Hoes – with Danny Brown – is one of the most batshit rap collaborations in recent history, and I Lay Down My Life for You is evidence that Peggy can make the kind of album admirers have come to expect and still make creative leaps.
So, what is Experimental Rap? And why is it so disappointing? Well, it becomes quite clear over the first two tracks that Peggy still has it in him to be dynamic whilst insisting on making dumfounded changes that feel beneath him. We open with a loudly-melting synthesiser plus choir vocal, soon undone by Babygirl’s trendy, commonplace triplet flow, repeated on Degenerates Prayer and Bridges on Fire.
There are multiple examples of JPEGMAFIA’s old dynamic self on Experimental Rap. Burning Hammer begins with Peggy unable to catch his breath alongside a likeminded, rogue drumbeat, inviting emotive interpolations of flamenco and orchestral strings. A glorious sample of Brenda Russell’s A Little Bit of Love offers a piano to Pop This Heat, a sort of comfort, as if he’s here to tell us everything’s going to be okay, that he is, indeed, still the same old guy.
A calming acoustic guitar combines with an effervescent backing vocal, and Peggy’s mania, on New Era. He’s still pretty darn good at picking out instrumentals; the requiem-like guitar that finalises the album with a moment of thought on You Will Always Lose Money Chasing Women, but You Will Never Lose Women Chasing Money; the crushing background of No Strippers in Heaven, on which everything behind the charge of Peggy’s voice either weeps or cries inconsolably. On Tsar Bomba, his sample of Personality Collector’s ‘fuck you’ riff is a really good advertisement for the post-hardcore band We Weren’t Invited – the band that made the song, in case that wasn’t clear.
His range, and ability to cunningly produce his range, is still evident. However, the album comes with a reliance, perhaps indulgence, on glitch, most abrasively on Head. Glitch comes amid trademark flows on Meet the Dealers, and by ‘trademark’ I mean very stereotypically Peggy’s. The range, elsewhere, of his beats is able to distract from his lack of range in flow – see the pianos, strings and electric guitars of War Over Land. I guess the glitch of Money does add to its intensity, but also to the aforementioned gross abundance.
The noisiness of JPEGMAFIA’s glitch would help to drown out his lyrics, but my god, does he really make sure to be heard when he wants to get a rise out of someone. Some of his most miserable lyrical excerpts appear on Experimental Rap, including The 1st Amendment’s attack on Charlie Kirk, only to do what Kirk himself did; use the actual first amendment like a lifejacket. Since I Met Ye is ‘how dare you have a problem with me working with an antisemite?’: the song; a stance he doubles down on by remaking All of the Lights for Lights. GYBB has a weird, “I’m racist” intro.
He still has a genuine fight in him; a good fight that produces fierce political rap on The Ghost of Emmett Till, blasting Mitch Mitchell’s Little Miss Lover beat. Chat is a political rap soliloquy; retribution for every black life destroyed by the police – “chat, point me to the house / I’m up in this bitch right now / free Rodney Hinton Jr. / stop letting them kills my childs”.
The album’s sense of ego blurs the lines of JPEGMAFIA speaking from the heart, hunting for reaction, and having a bit of a moan. There is definitely heart in Experimental Rap, but heart stomped out by shock, glitch, and for once, a lack of any innovation on a JPEGMAFIA album.
Best tracks – Burning Hammer – Pop This Heat – No Strippers in Heaven – Chat.
Rating – 6 out of 10
Almost immediately after I posted this review, I learned that JPEGMAFIA didn’t credit We Weren’t Invited for the sample of Personality Collector on Tsar Bomba. Ironically, I said that the sample was a good advertisement for the band, but obviously not if they aren’t being credited.
