For the life of me, I still cannot understand how modern society considers anyone an adult at the age of 18. Sure, at that age, your awareness of the world is growing, but for the most part, anyone in their teens still has more of the seemingly boundless energy of youth than the hard-won patience and wisdom of experience. I suspect it’s because of that energy, at least in part. By that time, the adults in your life — parents, teachers, coaches, mentors — have been dealing with you for long enough that they’re just plain exhausted. At that point, they’ve decided they’re tired of trying to keep up with you and it’s high time you keep up with yourself. Of course, the drawback to that approach is a lot of fumbling to find behaviors, habits, patterns, and thoughts that allow you to focus that energy toward creating the semblance of a constructive existence. And it’s hard. It’s just about the hardest thing there is. Lil Pump’s debut album, Harverd Dropout, is a microcosm of this principle. There’s so much energy. There’s a light veneer of polish, that promise of maturity. It’s almost too easy to forget you’re listening to the product of an 18-year-old mind whose primary concerns are still convincing his peers that he’s cool by wearing the right brand clothes, getting girls, and trying his best to imitate the patterns of adulthood that have been modeled for him, while rebelling against boundaries in a wordless, furtive effort to create his own identity separate from those constraints. But, because he is an 18-year-old with an abundance of energy and no real worldview or strategy to apply it to, what you end up with is 15 songs of just that energy and little else. His personality is fun and charismatic, the beats are thumping and effervescent, but Pump doesn’t have much to say or the tools to say it yet; despite the promise in the polish, all that unfocused energy just winds up being exhausting. It’s ironic that one of his many juvenile efforts to attract attention and impress his peers with showy acts of machismo was positioning himself as a sort-of anti-J. Cole, because Harverd Dropout feels almost like he wanted to make the exact opposite of KOD. Where Cole’s efforts are nearly universally nitpicked by his critics for being low-key, overly preachy affairs, Dropout is Pump turned up to 11 on every track, acting out exaggerated celebrations of all the addictions Cole denounces on KOD.<doc-sep>Photo Credit: iTunes Instinct is the voice of logic. From the gut, it rises as a whisper rooted in rational thinking. Upon first listen, the whisper told me Lil Pump’s 2017 single “Gucci Gang” was a lackluster Migos imitation bound to be another grain of sand lost on the saturated beach of rap releases. I’m no stranger to simplicity’s allure, and how brevity can create jingles sweet as caramel apples, but “Gucci Gang" tastes of medicine rather than candy. To my surprise, the underwhelming single was well-received—at present, "Gucci Gang" is 4x Platinum-certified by the RIAA—and was the final boost needed to break Pump from SoundCloud notoriety to worldwide recognition. Overlooking the power of catchiness is where I underestimated his appeal. What Lil Pump lacks in compelling lyricism and fresh originality, the 18-year-old makes up for in selling what’s infectious and trouble-free. Currently, the Ben Griffin-directed “Gucci Gang” music video has over 800 million views. The Kanye West-assisted “I Love It,” the third single on Pump’s newly-released sophomore album Harverd Dropout, reached global consciousness after going viral. It just passed 400 million views. The question is no longer, can Pump make another one? It’s now, how many more? If there’s any fun to be had listening to Harverd Dropout, it’s an attempt to spot what alluded me with “Gucci Gang.” With a star-studded guest list that resembles a DJ Khaled album, Lil Pump could potentially have records that will be heard well into the summer—or Harverd Dropout will join a growing list of blockbuster albums only remembered for being forgettable. There is no middle. In usual 1-Listen fashion, the rules are the same: no skipping, no fast-forwarding, no rewinding, and no stopping. Each song will receive my gut reaction from start to finish. 1. "Drop Out" Pulsing buildup. Feeling festive. “Drop out then I got rich” lyrics I wish Steve Jobs wrote. I hope all the rich dropouts remix this, even the non-rappers. A big missed opportunity not having Kanye on this record. Pretty simplistic production, rather boring even for a song that’s only two minutes, but Pump has passable energy. How did he buy a Rolex before he could write? Is that even possible? Can he currently write? I guess he can sign a record contract. Laughing at Pump telling kids to stay in school. 2. "Nu Uh" This beat sounds like all the alarms in my head telling me to turn the album off. He dropped out of school just to rap over beats that sound like a fifth-grade fire drill. This is too messy to be amusing. “Real drug addict,” still trips me out how easy rappers will claim to be addicts without seeing an issue with that. “Learn how to sell crack before I learned to read a book.” If Yung Dolph said this same bar I would feel it differently. Conviction makes a difference. I really want to know why Pump is rapping over R2D2 having a meltdown. 3. “I Love It” ft. Kanye West This is one of those big, viral records that requires a ridiculous music video to work. Lil Pump exists in that magically absurd space between "Weird Al" Yankovic parody rap and J-Kwon's earnest attempts at making a hit. I may not understand its popularity, but I do get why this record worked: oddly infectious and visually goofy like Kel Mitchell in Good Burger singing “We're All Dudes.” 4. “ION” ft. Smokepurpp “We drug addicts.” Man, he has to stop. Okay, he’s floating. I don't mind this. Bragging about adding Xans to his wonton soup, The Based God would never. I guess every song requires a reference to not needing school. Honestly, this album is making me consider taking some college courses. When will rappers realize saying they’re getting money like a Jew isn't endearing? Offensive is offensive even if the intent isn't malicious. "ION" sounds like kids having an unsupervised sugar rush on a jungle gym. Purpp's second verse isn't bad. Other than the absurd amount of drugs referenced, this record is fine. 5. “Fasho Fasho” ft. Offset I’m glad the records have been short thus far. "Fasho Fasho" features the most contemporary trap beat thus far. These keys aren’t Zaytoven, but they’re dancing. The drums could slap a bit harder, though. The stale Migo isn’t sounding so stale today. I say this rarely, which means never, but I wish Lil Yachty was on this record. It’s his shade of bubblegum trap. Offset! Love the texture of his voice. The zombie bar was nice. A good feature from the feature killer. Nice piano outro. 6. “Racks on Racks” This is a good build up. I like the direction. I wish he would’ve called Future for the feature. I wonder what YC is doing today. I have to say, the original “Racks on Racks” was more contagious, but Lil Pump is in a nice pocket. This pocket is his to own. Not mad at how he’s riding it. The hook is boring, the repetition doesn’t work here, but the overall liveliness carries the record. For all the drug references, he’s waking up more and more. 7. “Off White” Eh, this is not it. He's rapping over an 8-bit video game type beat. The Fortnite bar followed by his gun sounds caused a slight chuckle. This hook is unbearable. If Lil Pump's song was my introduction to Virgil Abloh's clothing brand I'd assume the quality is like the shirt Denise made for Theo. Pump makes homemade Gordon Gartrell music. 8. “Butterfly Doors” Lively keys. Slow build up. Not a bad beat. I wish he would've just called the Migos to do ad-libs in the background. Might have to do a piece looking at all the gas stations referenced as drug spots. Nevermind, that’s fed talk, lol. Shoutout the Texaco on Bouldercrest. This record doesn’t do anything wrong, but it fails to do anything interesting, a far worse sin. The beat is a polar bear's toenail, though. 9. “Too Much Ice” ft. Quavo Comes in bit loud. Quavo ad-libs! This… Well, this is.. boisterous. I’m pretty sure this record isn’t mixed, it sounds like he’s yelling directly in my ear. It’s hilariously amped. He’s extremely excited, you can almost hear the energy drink on his breath. I like this as a self-confidence anthem for a rich fifth grader. Quavo! Production is louder than my niece having a baby tantrum. Surprisingly, Quavo isn’t drowned out. He isn’t the loudest Migo, but he’s delivering the expected Quavo verse. It's nothing crazy. “Robbing the bank, no mask” that’s a bizarre brag. Getting caught must be the new wave. 10. “Multi Millionaire” ft. Lil Uzi Vert Lil Pump likes beats that sound like cherry bombs exploding in garbage cans full of old Macintosh computers. Certain albums will make you appreciate the art of a clean mix. A song called “Multi Millionaire” shouldn’t sound like filing for bankruptcy. Let’s see what Uzi has to offer. Okay, this beat is unbearable, but the flow switch Uzi just pulled off was a good reminder that he still gets busy. I’m going back and listening to Lil Uzi Vert Vs. The World when I am done here, a peaceful album by comparison. 11. “Vroom Vroom Vroom” Someone please edit out all Lil Pump sound effects and send them to me, thank you. Call me crazy, but there is something appealing about this song filled with car sounds. Nevermind, that was a crazy thought. A sign my brain is melting. I will say, “Vroom Vroom Vroom” is finally a song that captures the dizzy madness of drinking four Four Lokos. This is a belligerent. Four Loko drunk if I ever heard one. 12. “Be Like Me” ft. Lil Wayne Hmm, this sounds like the most commercially appealing record since “I Love It.” It’s a nice groove, these keys are warm and the mix sounds appropriate for sober ears. So, is this Pump’s “Mr. Me Too?” Can Pump, read? I hope he can. Some of these bars are more worrisome than humorous. He spent two grand on a white tee!? Dem Franchize Boyz would be disgusted. Who is this kid’s accountant? Lil Wayne’s background vocals are exciting.<doc-sep>Lil Pump‘s highly anticipated sophomore album Harverd Dropout is finally here, and it’s been worth the wait. The album features star artists including Kanye West, Lil Uzi Vert, Lil Wayne, Quavo, 2 Chainz and more. The 16-track project carries the South Florida rapper’s usual sounds and lyrical flow along with catchy and head-bumping beats. The cover art for the LP depicts Lil Pump throwing papers into the air while fully iced out — shot with a purple tinge. Pump is back to his antics in some wild songs like “ION” featuring Smokepurrp and “Be Like Me” featuring Lil Wayne. The album also includes previously released hit single such as the infamous “I Love It” featuring Kanye West, Esskeetit and more. Other notable cuts include “Fasho Fasho” featuring Offset and “Nu Uh.” Have a listen to Harverd Dropout below. In other music related news, Denzel Curry went Super Saiyan in his “Ultimate” music video.<doc-sep>
On the cover of “Harverd Dropout,” the sophomore album from Miami rapper Lil Pump, the young MC is tossing homework papers in the air and looking rakish with his graduation cap askew, while wearing a robe emblazoned with the misspelled university name from his new full-length’s title. If this is meant to signal some sort of stupidity, that lean is surely incongruous. Working social media, streaming outlets and YouTube with the skill of a surgeon (or almost a Kardashian), the now-19-year-old started making hits in 2017 by dropping “D Rose” and “Boss” on SoundCloud, with his next smash, “Gucci Gang,” coming close to 900 million views on YouTube (Gucci Gang also happens to be the name of Pump’s trio with Gucci Mane and Smokepurpp, which will make its debut at Coachella in April). His recent collaboration with Kanye West, “I Love It” has racked up more than 407 million views with a viral #ILoveItChallenge that has won imitative memes from James Corden and Ellen Degeneres. You can’t be that dumb if you can get Cordon and Degeneres to pump up your jams, although the lyrics to new tracks such as “Drug Addicts” and the repetitive “Racks on Racks” may not rock Foucault’s Pendulum with their wit or originality. Claiming he “Learned how to sell crack before I learned to read a book” (on “Nu Uh”) makes him sound more juvenilely stupid than he needs, but Lil Pump is wise to his world and smart where it counts. Having said that, he hasn’t really switched up his sonic styling or baritone flow from his initial singles or his self-titled album debut of 2017 for his new effort. Along with helping to turn trap into a pop-hop vibe, his tracks are simplistic, contagiously catchy, and occasionally enhanced by rousing choruses. “Be Like Me,” featuring Lil Wayne, is similar to “I Love It,” in that Pump makes his partner shine brighter and, well, kinder: The autotuned Wayne doesn’t sound menacing and young Pump doesn’t sound like a shaggy dog. Instead, both men come across as cheerfully goofy and braggadocio-filled, yet adult in a mentor/apprentice fashion with a warm, electro bounce boppiness for added pop attention. The ticklish electric piano backing to “Butterfly Doors” is as addictive as his bouncing flow, although he marred the original version of the song, released in December, with a racist line (“They call me Yao Ming cause my eye real low” with “ching chong” adlib), but he has since apologized for that misstep and removed the offending line from “Harverd Droput.” And since “Gucci Gang” was occasionally accused of being too similar to Migos, it’s only fair that Quavo (“Too Much Ice”) and Offset (“Fasho Fasho”) appear on “Harverd.” Oddly, the two Migos members both sound more intense on their Pump tracks than they have on their recent solo efforts. “Harverd Dropout” is by no means perfect: The album has a lot of throwaways and Pump’s development as a lyricist seems stunted by his youthful success — for all of his bragging and achievements, he really should sound as if he’s having more fun. But then again, maybe he’s concentrating on keeping the melodies simple and catchy and his words in league with his image. After all, he’s no dummy.