Future / Metro Boomin: We Nonetheless Don’t Belief You Album Evaluate

Earlier of their careers, Future and Metro Boomin all the time sounded dedicated to bringing the perfect and the weirdest out of one another. The menace within the pits of Metro’s beats matched Future’s drug tales and bouts of dead-eyed hedonism, and darker, stranger variants on that chemistry saved issues thrilling. Whether or not it’s the seething snap of an “I Serve the Base,” the creaking minimalism of a “My Assortment,” or the fidgety pomp of a “Jumpman,” the duo all the time pushed the boundaries of mainstream lure in seedier instructions.

And that was the largest situation with their first official collaborative album We Don’t Belief You. They nonetheless crafted a number of imply sleeper hits, however exterior of the rich-guy rapper beef simmering in between the strains, their edges had dulled. For all of the buildup, too lots of these songs took the Capital-R Rap Album immediate too severely, rehashing outdated concepts in grander, blander methods. The double-disc sequel album, We Nonetheless Don’t Belief You, is a extra encouraging heel flip. Future and Metro sharpen a few of that chew by bringing their ears to a brighter, barely sappier area.

It’s nonetheless acquainted floor for each of them. Future, specifically, is again within the emotional headspace that fueled a lot of HNDRXX, swirling between flexing from his throne and lovesick come-ons. He nonetheless relishes taking part in the villain now and again—“One Huge Household” is about juggling upwards of 20 ladies at a time, three of whom share the identical identify—however there’s simply as a lot tear-soaked reflection over exes and post-coital procuring sprees. On the neon-bright “Drink N Dance,” he croons about racing Maybachs and throwing lavish intercourse events in Abu Dhabi like he simply discovered a uncommon foil Pokemon card. Later, on “Mile Excessive Recollections,” he’s on the lookout for silver linings in a lover who may be doing him soiled, belting “You possibly can fuck on him so long as you thinkin’ ‘bout me,” making an attempt and failing to sound above all of it. It isn’t usually that Future will get the quick finish of the stick, and listening to him bounce between participant and patsy, typically in the identical track, stays electrifying.

For Metro’s half, he’s truly discovered a technique to flip the Achilles’ heel of his post-COVID output—manufacturing that sounds too polished and nameless—right into a energy. The title monitor veers towards synth-pop that wouldn’t sound misplaced on The Weeknd’s Daybreak FM, full with Abel mocking his outdated label OVO in falsetto (“They shooters making TikToks!”). A number of songs dip into numerous shades of R&B, from the new-age Isley Brothers smoothness of “All to Myself” to “Gracious,” which feels like a stripped-back model of the sort of plugg&b that Summrs or Freeway would drool over.