Future Hndrxx Presents: The WIZRD
How many times can one warble variations on “When it come to emotions, I play camouflage,” not to mention “Jumpin’ on another jet / Jumpin’ on another jet” in the same robo-tripping quaver? One Future album is excellent: Dirty Sprite 2, named for the cough syrup habit he says he’s kicked (The WIZRD’s “Overdose” actually refers to his abundance of “swag”). The others only hit a nerve sporadically, and this one has 20 tracks. So casual fans can add “Call the Coroner” to the highlight reel, with its hypnotic Buju Banton-cum-“Bodak Yellow” melody and fun boasts like “I don’t have no stylist,” as well as the addictive “Krazy but True,” which invites us to imagine a “fishtank with a shark in it” and a penthouse living room “with a garage in it,” while credibly taking credit for the way 2019 rappers “drop your mixtapes, your adlibs, and everything.” The turntable scratching(!) on “Crushed Up” will make you look up, but so will “Servin Killa Kam’s" “bought a new toy” just because you thought he said “toilet.” — Dan Weiss
Concision is crucial to Sneaks, the solo project of Eva Moolchan. While not quite adhering to the rigorous, Instagram-able brevity favored by Philly’s Tierra Whack, Moolchan, who came out of Washington, D.C.’s DIY scene, keeps her tracks sharp and focused and under three minutes. Highway Hypnosis, at 13 songs in 29 minutes, is her third and longest album, but it still races by. It’s a hip-hop skate-punk set, with Moolchan’s often playful, sometimes pointed raps again built on stark beats and bass lines, but fleshed out more with keyboard or guitar textures. “I think I need a little wiggle room,” she says on the M.I.A.-like “The Way It Goes,” and she allows herself more this time.
Some tracks are little more than mantra-like chants, but even when she’s just toying with slight changes in inflection on “Holy Cow I Never Saw a Girl Like You” (the title comprises the lyrics of the 56-second song), or on “Money Don’t Grow on Trees,” Moolchan captivates. “Remove your beliefs and start again,” she urges on the trip-hoppy “Beliefs,” and it’s a characteristically minimalist but provocative suggestion. — Steve Klinge