Whole Lotta Red: Hip-Hop’s Much-Needed Return to Divisiveness

Few albums have ever been more anticipated than Playboi Carti’s Whole Lotta Red. A little over a year ago, leaks from Whole Lotta Red began to surface, and the hype began. Leaks are not uncommon in rap, but these leaks provided a glimpse into an entire new sound that Carti had been working on, and his fanbase went insane over them. However, even if you listened to every leak and snippet (and there are hours of them), nothing could prepare even the most rabid Carti fans for how Whole Lotta Red would sound. 

Playboi Carti, real name Jordan Carter, is only 24 years old, and has been making music since he was 13. Powered by a cult-like fanbase, he has already become one of the premier names in hip-hop and music in general. In 2017, he made his major label debut with his self-titled mixtape, Playboi Carti. This mixtape was the pinnacle of “mumble rap”, with lyrics having minimal importance other than coexisting and complimenting the production. Some critics discarded the tape, referring to it as a “glorified beat tape with ad-libs” (Narshima Chintaluri, HipHopDX). However, critics and music fans with this sentiment missed the importance of what Carti was doing; creating an almost entirely new genre of music that is distinctly his own. Playboi Carti was just the first step. 

In 2018, Carti released Die Lit. Die Lit is a great album, building on everything Playboi Carti did perfectly. The production as well as Carti’s vocals are fine-tuned, and many of the songs feature beautiful melodies that are uniquely Carti’s. Carti also began to experiment more with his voice on tracks such as “Flatbed Freestyle”, utilizing vocal inflections and changes in tone and pitch to create a futuristic and gentle roller-coaster of a song. Die Lit was generally mainstream, but still unique enough to propel music forward while exponentially growing the size of his fanbase. Many Carti fans, including myself, first became enamored with the artist because of this project.

On Christmas Day in 2020, Carti dropped Whole Lotta Red. As I mentioned before, it will be hard for an album to ever eclipse the anticipation and meteoric expectations that this project had. Diehard Carti fans (myself included) adamantly believed that this album would be so influential that it could change music forever; more casual fans naively expected a simple and melodic follow-up to Die Lit. What followed was an album that nobody knew what to make of.

Describing the sound of Whole Lotta Red is a challenge, mostly because of how all over the place it is both sonically and structurally. WLR has 24 tracks, and the album sounds as if it is divided into three distinct sections; from tracks 1-10, tracks 11-18, and tracks 19-24. Each of these sections sound distinctly different and vary in quality, so for the sake of this article, I will be talking about and analyzing these sections separately, before giving my final opinion on the album as a whole. 

PART I: Tracks 1-10

To say that Carti hits the ground running on WLR is an understatement. The first part of this album boasts a feverish energy that has not been seen in hip-hop since Kanye West’s Yeezus, and much like that project, WLR is unapologetically aggressive and honest. From the opening track, “Rockstar Made”, it’s clear that Carti has all but completely abandoned melodies in favor of aggressive sounds that break into your eardrums and throw a party in there. Carti did not just experiment with a new sound on this project, he dove headfirst into an entirely new aesthetic, both an auditory one and a visual one. Carti had been carefully cultivating this rebrand for over a year through his social media, posting cryptic Instagram posts featuring him in flamboyant poses while surrounded by satanic imagery. In the weeks coming up to the album, he started referring to him and his fans as vampires. Carti had become creepy and off-putting, but at the same time magnetic and polarizing; and I think this perfectly describes what the first part of WLR sounds like. These songs are uncomfortable to listen to, your ear will reject certain sounds like your stomach rejects shots of hard liquor. However, this forces you to forget everything you knew about Carti beforehand, regardless of your opinion on the artist beforehand.

It is not unlike an artist to commit to a new aesthetic before an album release, as it typically helps increase hype. However, there is something to be said for how hard Carti committed to this new version of himself on all fronts. On the third track of the album, “Stop Breathing”, Carti brandishes this new style on a track that sounds so different from anything he’s put out before. This song is a culmination of everything WLR is about; combining aspects of punk rock, rap, and metal to create a new sound that is entirely original, and entirely Carti’s. He basically screams his first verse, jarring the listener while they bang their head to a thunderous bassline. By the second verse, Carti is rapping, not mumble rapping, but spitting lyrics with impeccable flow under the guise of yet another new voice of his. Somehow, his lyrics are more distinguished and understandable than ever, cutting through his multi-layered production like a steak knife would butter. WLR is at its best when it adheres to this experimental aggressiveness and honesty, and this tone is all over the first ten tracks of this album. On “M3tamorphosis”, featuring the legendary Kid Cudi, Carti likens himself to a God and openly discusses the changes made in his aesthetic and sound. Cudi comes in on the second half for a melodic verse, but by the end of it I found myself wishing we just got another Carti verse instead. Juxtaposing Carti and Cudi shows how truly unique and necessary Carti’s new sound is, and his mere absence for a verse leaves me reeling for more like a drug addict who just lost his needle. Other tracks that adhere to a similar tone are “No Sl33p” and “New Tank”, although they sound more like snippets than full songs, and lack cohesiveness. On these songs, Carti raps about (*checks notes*) dreaming about murder and selling drugs. He delivers these lyrics like a chilling confession rather than as throwaway references towards drugs and violence; over electronic and static production that is both subtle and over-the-top at the same time. 

Every now and then, an odd radio-friendly track breaks up the tone of these first ten tracks, like “Beno” and “Slay3r”. These songs are catchy, but when juxtaposed next to more complicated and boundary-pushing tracks they just come off as stale and seem largely out of place. However, I can see people who don’t like most of the album enjoying these songs, as they are pretty easy to listen to and feature melodies that are relatively pleasant to the ear.

PART II: Tracks 11-18 

Sadly, the second part of WLR is nowhere near as unique or entertaining as the first. Putting most of the lesser tracks on the album right next to each other makes it feel like an entirely new album started playing, and honestly, it is hard to get through all of them without skipping. These songs are largely stale, and it often sounds like Carti is phoning in his lyrics. The feverish energy and addictive content found in the beginning of the album is almost entirely gone.

Two early leaks made it onto the album, titled as “New N3on” and “Place”. Although these songs may have been exciting when they leaked, they don’t really seem to fit in much on this album, as significant time has passed since those songs came to light. “New N3on'' sounds like it should begin an album, but instead finds itself lost and out of place at track number 13. “Place” just sounds boring and repetitive, and at the end of the day these songs dilute the album and make the good moments seem further and further apart. 

Dilution is the main problem with WLR. 24 tracks on the project is just way too many, and allows way too much room for error. It seems as if Carti overloaded this middle section of the album with songs you could consider “skips”, and if these songs didn’t exist the album would’ve been much better for it. Getting through this album is like eating a Popeyes biscuit without water. It tastes delicious at the beginning and end, but you’re gonna have to put in effort to get through the middle without losing your appetite for the whole thing.  However, there are some positive moments, specifically “Vamp Anthem” and “On That Time”. Both of these tracks feature organs in their production, as Carti leans into the vampire aesthetic that he has created. On “Vamp Anthem” he raps over a classic 18th century Bach sample, creating a modern day vampire soundtrack that sounds as if it could fit right into old horror flicks. “On That Time” utilizes these organs in a different way, mixing them in with a much more complicated beat to accentuate Carti’s aggression. “On That Time” sounds like it would have fit perfectly in the beginning of the album, and begs the question as to why this album is composed the way that it is.  

PART III: Tracks 19-24

For the most part, Carti returns to form at the end of this album, channeling the honesty that was all over the first section, but framing it in a vulnerable light rather than an intimidating one. Carti delivers his lyrics in a monotonous tone, encompassed by spacey production that gives the songs a melodic but depressing feel. This part of the album is the most similar to Carti’s previous work in terms of sound, featuring melodic vocals and production that are mostly absent on the rest of the project. Carti gets candid about his drug addiction and love life, and also speculates on the possibility of his own premature death. On “ILoveUIHateU”, Carti links up with famed producer Pi’erre Bourne to create a chilling and depressing ode to promethazine-codeine. Carti references his drug addiction with vulnerability that we have never heard from him before, singing, “I mix all of my problems with prometh, until I roll in my deathbed” on the hook of this track. The lyrics are hardly distinguishable, as he mumbles them and trails off toward the end, sounding as if he is under the influence of the drug. I couldn’t even understand them at first, and when I finally looked up the lyrics after taking this catchy-ass track at face value for two weeks, it felt like I got sucker-punched in the gut. I think this speaks to how often Carti makes you work for his music. He doesn’t spoon-feed you what you want to hear, but rather makes you peel back layers of song to find what connects with you the most. 

Carti ends the album once again speculating about his death, on the track “F33l Lik3 Dyin”. This track features a prominent Bon Iver sample, a weird production choice for Carti that echoes the influence of the alleged executive producer on this album, Kanye West. The track is a diversion for sure, especially given that this album (and Carti’s career) is largely sample-free. However, this distinct difference makes this song feel like a concrete end to a long and winded album, and as you’re listening to it you can tell you’re reaching the finish line. There’s something about it that sounds like the end, and this feeling is largely ominous given the context of Carti’s lyrics on the song; that his lifestyle is driving him closer to death every day, but his depression doesn’t allow him the aptitude to care. If Carti ever did die prematurely, people would flock to this song and call it an ominous prediction; when in reality it is Carti’s take on a cry for help and should be treated as such.

IN CONCLUSION

Whole Lotta Red is as subjective of an album as they come. I can’t tell you that you’ll like it, but I can tell you to listen to it. I like it, but I understand why people wouldn’t, and could even be repulsed by it. However, I can’t respect Carti enough for forcing his fans and other listeners out of their comfort zones. Upon release, responses to the album were extremely divisive, and I couldn’t remember a time when a hip-hop release elicited such a wide range of passionate responses. I remember being on Twitter and seeing “Stop Breathing” referred to as both the best and worst song of all time, both under the same tweet. The discourse surrounding this project was almost as engrossing as the album itself, and it felt good to get a new hip-hop project that everybody didn’t feel the exact same about. Hip-hop as a whole has been lacking originality for a while now, and this album has it in spades.

I don’t think Whole Lotta Red is good just because it’s experimental. I think it’s good because I think it’s good, and it being as experimental is an added bonus that makes the album exponentially more replayable and provides it with a chance at real longevity and musical influence down the road. However, the album does have glaring weaknesses that cannot be ignored, sounding unfinished and rushed in certain parts. On some songs, it is very clear that Carti is working with a sound that he has not quite mastered, and on others; he seems seasoned, as if he has been doing this his whole career. I believe that if it was 10-14 tracks long it would be a much better project. That being said, the best moments on Whole Lotta Red shine bright with potential and quality. After listening to this album, one thing is certain; Playboi Carti is a rockstar, and one of the most polarizing figures in music today. His career could go in any direction from here, and I am so excited to see where he takes us.