Isaiah Rashad - The House Is Burning

HOTBOXING WITH DA HOMIES

After five arduous years removed from The Sun's Tirade, dealing with afflictive personal issues, Isaiah Rashad returns for The House Is Burning. A name that evokes darkened change, penciled by a child who'll forever have that moment etched in their mind. Yet, by and large, the songs contained within Rashad's sophomore LP zealously look away, ignoring reality in favor of fantasy. Gallivanting around a party lifestyle - sex, drugs, and alcohol - rather than accepting a more sobering fate. Perhaps it's Rashad's way of coping, of healing, but the lyrical braggadocio and puff-puff-pass blasé is undoubtedly House Is Burning's weakest aspect. In fact, the most contemplative moment - unsurprisingly, given Trap's track record, the outro - finds Rashad coming face to face with his alcoholism in a bout of cognizant beauty. "You are now a human being" he mumbles to himself on 'HB2U,' content with his self-inflicted perils, but not enough to put that conduct - as evidenced by a myriad of topics elsewhere ('Claymore,' 'All Herb,' 'Chad') - aside. It's frustrating branding, relying on perilous tropes over mature transformation.

However, beyond that noticeable gap in presentation and actuality, The House Is Burning flourishes in Rashad's southern pocket. Musically and verbally, that is. For all across these 16 songs, Rashad puts on an exhibit of dexterity and suavity. His flows bounce casually between syrupy ('Don't Shoot,' 'THIB') and incisive ('From The Garden,' '9-3 Freestyle'), shifting approaches with each and every verse. Some, like the quick-footed speed-up on 'All Herb' or the militaristic urgency of 'Hey Mista,' come as quite the surprise, even within the songs themselves. In Southern Hip-Hop's modern, monotonous mire, this sneaky variety is much appreciated, bleeding into hooks that demonstrate Rashad's moody highs ('All Herb,' 'True Story') and patented, lethargic lows ('Claymore,' 'Headshots'). Needless to say, it's a vibe.

The production fairs even better, doubling down on Rashad's Dirty South influences on the slimy 'RIP Young,' the grubby 'Lay Wit Ya,' and the retrograde '9-3 Freestyle.' Flashes of UGK, Three 6 Mafia, and even Southernplayalistic-era Outkast emerge, though Rashad never accentuates himself enough for direct comparisons. In fact, the only moment he does unleash something inspirited comes on 'From The Garden,' a hybrid Trap cut that, like Playboi Carti, Trippie Redd, or the featured Lil Uzi Vert, is all ad-libs and no brakes. It's a whirlwind of extremism, a love-hate guarantee. And one that will alienate TDE fans, similar to Schoolboy Q's 'Gang Gang' and Kendrick Lamar's 'Humble,' which entertained the same, high-flex notions. 'From The Garden' is a favorite of mine, alongside the latter half of 'HB2U,' which is a masterclass in insouciant chill, 'Headshots (4r Da Locals),' which imitates the woozy, multi-layering of past favorites 'West Savannah' and 'Silkk Da Shocka,' and 'Lay With Ya' for that licentious sneer.

While the ambition, given the prolonged hype, fails to capitalize on a mind in redevelopment, Rashad's knack for tasteful deliveries, mesmeric hooks, and smeared production rediscovers that Southern grit sorely lacking in today's Hip-Hop.