Future is like Arjen Robben, and I’m pretty sure that’s the first time that comparison has been made.
Arjen Robben, incorrigible and unchanging, has done the same thing for past ten years. True, there’s been marked improvements in his game – Bayern represents his final, in-swinging form – but what he does is pure and eternal. He stutters. He cuts in. He scores. Everyone knows this, and yet they’re powerless to stop him.
Future has just released, well, FUTURE – and in truth, like Robben, we know what we’re getting. Inventive drill beats that sound like they were forged in an industrial yard, demonic flows reminiscent of a well-tuned gun with an endless clip, multiple allusions to a lifestyle that, if actually lived, would probably spell death. FUTURE doesn’t surprise, but it certainly doesn’t disappoint.
You’re either a Future fan or you’re not, and if you fall in the latter camp this probably won’t sway you. That doesn’t mean you can’t appreciate how objectively, this is a pretty special artist – a one man tour-de-force that can churn out a project with no features that doesn’t sag once.
‘Mask Off’ hits hard but also has these airy, godly flutes that would placate a nun, ‘Rent Money’ is an opener that also proves an instant battle cry, and ‘When I Was Broke’ is a welcome swerve into sentimentality. Future might not be for everyone, this reviewer included, but there are artists out there that haven’t made music that slaps like this in their whole career. Future does it on every offering of this self-titled, 17 track-heavy, no features album.
Future grabs a trap beat, he wraps tales of female conquests and excess drug use in his unique staccato flow, and he drops an album. Usually without fanfare, as if this is something he could do every month if he wanted to. He probably could. And while everybody knows what’s coming, they seem powerless to stop it, preferring, for now at least, to show their bellies and hope for the best. A bit like Arsenal.
FUTURE is out now on A1 Recordings.