BROCKHAMPTON’s “Iridescence” Shines as Most Mature Album to Date
This week, “the best boy-band since One Direction” saw their new album, “Iridescence,” hit #1 on the Billboard 200. The success of their new project came as a major triumph for the rap collective, as they rose from obscurity last year with their “Saturation” trilogy. The band’s meteoric rise to fame has been anything but easy. At the beginning of this summer, one of the key members, Ameer Van, was kicked out of the band due to sexual assault allegations. This upended the band’s dynamics and has forced them to reevaluate their sound and purpose in light of new fame.
In “Iridescence,” gone is the sunny and summery vibe of their previous trilogy. Many of the songs feature haunting strings and grinding trap production—their most beautiful and head-banging yet. Their voices and perspectives have also become more singular, as their verses are elongated, no longer popping from one vocalist to the next at breakneck speed. This allows a greater evaluation of familiar topics such as sexuality, depression and addiction.
The opening track, “New Orleans” is an undeniable banger, featuring sinister instrumentals that mirror the rappers’ interrogation with fame. In the introduction, Matt Champion says nonchalantly, “Perfectly fine, that’s fine,” and the beat goes off. It is a strong start to the album that fades into the much more mellow “Thug Life.” Here, we get a great line by Bearface that resurfaces throughout the album: “Boy you know you don’t look fly / Dem gold chains turn your neck green bye,” which calls out rappers trying to stunt with fake copper chains. Bearface says, in the words of Kendrick Lamar: “Sit down, be humble.” The juxtaposition of songs with the grittiness of “New Orleans,” and the smooth piano of “Thug Life,” is a balancing act that occurs throughout the album. The grittiness factor is sometimes played to excess, such as in “Berlin,” which feels like the album grinding to a halt.
The new string instrumentals of BROCKHAMPTON are used to agonizing effect in “Weight.” The track is possibly the best on the album, and appropriately titled, as the weight of the band’s transformation and Ameer’s absence press on their morale. Kevin Abstract longs for the old days: “I really miss the old days before the co-signs / I really miss them cold days before the road signs.” He also reflects on his previous struggle with his sexuality: “And she was mad ’cause I never wanna show her off (scared) / And every time she took her bra off my dick would get soft / I thought I had a problem, kept my head inside a pillow screaming.” As much as Kevin misses the old days, he’s recognized that fame has left him with greater self-confidence than before. Here, Joba dwells on his insecurities too, involving substance abuse and anxiety— “Pressure makes me lash back, wish I could get past that.”
These themes continue throughout the rest of the album in songs such as “J’ouvert,” where Joba literally screams at the listener about his demons. The infectiously catchy and funky “Honey,” has Merlyn Wood autotune “I could’ve been homeless.” In “Iridescence,” the title and album cover suggests a blend of the light and the dark which changes with perspective.
In the album’s closer, “Fabric,” instead of Bearface’s usual conclusive guitar ballad, we are left with a degree of uncertainty. Kevin Abstract sings, “You don’t understand why I don’t get up and shout.” Despite this uncertainty, we are left with reassurance that the band’s journey is far from over, proclaiming “These are the best years of our lives,” a statement in of itself is an announcement of their new trilogy of the same name.
Rating: 8/10