Before releasing his studio debut Please Excuse Me for Being AntiSocial, Compton-raised/Atlanta-adjacent rapper Roddy Ricch had already firmly established his hybrid style. On tracks like his breakout single "Die Young" and his featured appearance on the anthemic Mustard song "Ballin'," Ricch served up bars about struggling through hardships to achieve wealth and greatness, all delivered in a fluid, partially sung style that melded trap toughness with smooth melodies. This approach shows up sometimes on AntiSocial, but ...
Read More
Before releasing his studio debut Please Excuse Me for Being AntiSocial, Compton-raised/Atlanta-adjacent rapper Roddy Ricch had already firmly established his hybrid style. On tracks like his breakout single "Die Young" and his featured appearance on the anthemic Mustard song "Ballin'," Ricch served up bars about struggling through hardships to achieve wealth and greatness, all delivered in a fluid, partially sung style that melded trap toughness with smooth melodies. This approach shows up sometimes on AntiSocial, but during the course of 16 tracks, Ricch displays a versatile range. Over a looped acoustic guitar sample and hyperactive trap hi-hats on "Big Stepper," Ricch again recounts his rise from dealing drugs to living the good life making millions off his music. The hardened veneer of the song makes it almost unrecognizable from the smooth sung hooks and laid-back flows of the spacy Lil Durk-assisted track "Moonwalkin'" and the spare, piano-driven, Mustard-produced beat of "High Fashion." Ricch switches between romantic moments like this and booming brag-fests like "Start wit Me," focusing on either smart, reflective lyricism or melodic presence. By the album's last quarter, AntiSocial almost takes on the feel of a mixtape, with production and style shifting dramatically song to song. The sultry, distant R&B vibes of "Bacc Seat" blur into sentimental Auto-Tuned singing on "Prayers to the Trap God," and backing from a full gospel choir on finale "War Baby." Each track boasts tight production and passionate performances by Ricch, enough to keep his quickly changing styles from feeling too jarring. At times, Please Excuse Me for Being AntiSocial feels like it's trying to offer something for everyone, and it becomes difficult to locate Ricch's personality among the different window dressings. Regardless, it's a strong collection and highlights how Ricch can mold himself into different styles and keep things exciting in almost any stylistic configuration. ~ Fred Thomas, Rovi
Read Less
