Atlanta in the 2020s, the sequel. Although he actually comes from Cordele, a small town further south in the state of Georgia, Devokeyous Hamilton is one of the leading current representatives of the most important rap scene of the 21st century. One year after his first official album, Keepin It Cloudy, he confirms it with a worthy follow-up, Sins Aloud (read: “sins allowed”), released at the very moment he joins the latest Freshmen class.
More or less associated with this offshoot of trap music known as plugg, Lazer Dim 700 would have been hard to imagine in a world that hadn’t first known Young Thug, Playboi Carti, and Young Nudy. And that world, it must be said, is a strange one. This rap no longer has much to do with what used to be defined as such. The rapper, in fact, expresses himself freely, off-beat (when there even is a beat…), often at high speed and in varied tones, delivering phrases and thoughts as they tumble through his mind, scrambled by drugs. He packs in a large number of words – most of the time without a chorus – into his two-minute tracks, while in the background ring out the wobbly synthetic sounds that form the sonic backdrop of his era.
These very short eighteen tracks offer a great kaleidoscope of sounds and textures. At times, the legacy of Atlanta rap is very visible, as with the excellent “Sins” and “Take His Lid Off,” whose naïve melodies – albeit kneaded by surprising sound effects – take us back to the days of Gucci Mane. The little piano touches on “Washed Up Ahh Boy” inevitably evoke Zaytoven, even when, on “Bullshit,” they are flooded with synths. There are also all those ad-libs—chains of “yeah” and “fuck” with no real meaning. And one could easily imagine Young Nudy rapping over the laid-back instrumental of the closing track “Rapido.”
But at times, Lazer Dim 700 and his producers take us elsewhere. We land in full-on science fiction, for instance, with the sounds of the very good “Ja Morant,” “Ghost,” and the less memorable “Ella Vayter.” We almost find ourselves in UK drill territory with the aggression, heavy bass, and piercing electronics of “Kill Switch,” then over in Michigan with the bells of the lively, frenetic “Fukk Goin On.” We get lost in waves of synths on “Dripp” and “1 Line,” which mainly talk about getting high, and on the experimental delight that is “Opps N Kamole.”
Everything serves the rapper’s chaotic tales of drank and opps, as he delivers, in the heart of the rap-heavy 2020s, an album that feels entirely like him.
