To go to a Brockhampton concert–ah, concerts, remember those?–is an experience: mosh pits, heartbreaking ballads, crowds singing along to every song, fans being invited on stage and being told to rap their favorite verse, and even 12-year olds jumping around, expelling all of their enviable energy, supervised by their disapproving parents. I’ve been to three of these concerts, each one more wild than the last. The fervor of the fans only grew, as did the size of the venue. But one thing remained constant: Brockhampton, the 13 or 14-member boyband that basically formed on the internet (this is a link to a popular Kanye fan forum site, KanyeToThe, or KTT for short. Kevin Abstract, the leader of the group, posted under the username “Harry Styles” asking for people to join his band), knows how to put on a show. The energy was palpable; often, the band would trot out in orange jumpsuits, paint themselves completely blue, and have a good fucking time.
Listen: Brockhampton
Every member has their own kind of style on the stage; there was, of course, Kevin Abstract, the leader with his aloof style, walking around and nodding his head as his fellow band members contributed to each song. Matt Champion was often quite energetic, a contrast to his sleepy flow, while Merlyn Wood, the group’s wildcard, could go from reserved to eyes-wide shout-rapping in an instant. Bearface, the crooner, was often the most hidden, until his verses and choruses came in and stunned the crowd. Every one of the six vocalists in Brockhampton brings something different to the table in their performances, and this is precisely why their music is so loved by fans of different ages, genders, sexualities, backgrounds: the boyband’s versatility is their strongest strength. Each of their albums are an exercise in making contrast and cohesiveness coexist, and it’s what keeps me and countless others engaged in their music.
In the year of 2017, Brockhampton burst onto the scene with their SATURATION trilogy, releasing 3 full-length albums in the span of six months. Each album was so fresh, so unique in the hip-hop genre. The first of the trilogy featured songs like “GOLD”, which showcased the band members swirling around the track with staggering confidence, backed by a buoyant beat, while “FAKE” featured their signature pitch effects on the vocals and is a statement on the music industry today. On this first installment, you get a hint at what the boyband is capable of; entertaining members, different styles, and consistently stellar and unique production that was a breath of fresh air in the hip hop landscape at the time.
The next two installments, Saturation II and Saturation III, built upon the success of the first album by letting more of the band members showcase their talents. Here, the boyband’s importance to the genre and their universal appeal starts to flourish. Each member of the band, like the fans themselves, come from different backgrounds, have different sexualities, and as a result bring something new to each track. On “JUNKY”, Kevin Abstract opens the song with a verse talking about his inner demons and homophobia in the genre: “‘Why you always rap about bein’ gay?’/Cause not enough n****s rap and be gay”. Matt Champion comments on feminism and the misogyny that permeates society: “I hate these shady folk, that want it ladylike/But don’t treat lady right, but they be sayin like (‘Just the tip!’)”. The song is backed by an aggressive bouncy beat that is as menacing as it is fun.
On “SWEET”, a song that features an ear-worm of a vaguely Middle Eastern sample as the basis of the production, Merlyn Wood jumps onto the track with his trademark vocal style, shouting “Don’t call me stupid, that ain’t the way my name pronounced/Don’t call me cupid, I got too many hoes right now” before settling back into his normal tone for most of the verse. Joba ditches his usual falsetto and delivers a verse about his hopes and dreams while chronicling his rise to fame from humble beginnings. “JOHNNY”, one of the strongest tracks from the trilogy, features the band members trading verses with a cohesiveness that they were building towards with each of the two previous albums. It’s a seamless track, with each band member sliding in with ease, delivering verses about their own personal lives. All of the songs have unique production, with intriguing samples and interesting shifts that fit each rapper’s style perfectly.
This is all to detail the boyband’s penchant for versatility. On this trilogy, you find everything from hard-hitting bangers to indie-pop-ballads (with Bearface singing heart-rendering tracks at the end of each of the three albums). I went to two concerts that were supporting these albums, and it really struck me that this diversity of the group brought such a fresh take to hip-hop; other collectives like Odd Future, while obviously very influential, never brought together so many different voices and styles into a cohesive package like Brockhampton did.
After the trilogy, Brockhampton upgraded by signing a label deal. It seemed like the group was destined for success, with 2017 being an amazing year for them and their potential was about to be fully unleashed upon the world. But life came at them fast; member Ameer Vann was accused of sexual misconduct by several women, and ultimately, was kicked out of the band. Often cited as the group’s best rapper by critics, Ameer Vann’s departure made the band’s status full of uncertainty. How would this group of clearly best friends react to one of their own being kicked out? How would they adjust to one of their most distinguishable voices being absent from their sound?
Hip-hop is a genre that lets artists bare their souls like none other. Voices are front and present on tracks, and it’s practically poetry taken straight from the rappers’ lives. But hip-hop is historically and still a very machismo genre; talking about one’s feelings, shames and vices is something that is, unfortunately, largely absent from the genre. Brockhampton had, up until that point, never tied itself to the genre’s apparent limitations. It’s what brought them the fans in the first place; each different voice talking about their own trials and tribulations, letting them share their lives with the audience in a way that felt unfiltered, raw, reminiscent of Kanye’s early albums (and the band has detailed their love for Kanye’s earlier work). It’s what attracted me to the group–hearing them spill their hearts out was undeniably unique, not to mention their desire to stretch the imagination with unusual and off-kilter production and knack for straight-up catchiness.
So it’s no surprise, then, that they followed this dramatic shakeup of the group’s dynamic by releasing exactly that: a dramatic shakeup of their own sound with their fourth album and first official studio album, iridescence. Recorded in just 10 days in the Abbey Road studios, the album is aggressive, harsh, and industrial in sound, broken up by occasionally beautifully produced tracks. “NEW ORLEANS” kicks the album off with blown-out drums and whirring machine sounds backed by a consistent, dizzying bassline. The group sounds aggressive, hungry, as if proving to doubters that they can still deliver without one of the band’s core members. But it’s clear that the band is hurting. Clear album standout “WEIGHT”, and one of the band’s best songs ever, is a surprising break from the harshness of the previous tracks, with a lovely string section supporting Kevin Abstract’s heartfelt verse about him coming to terms with his sexuality, which is a theme almost completely absent from hip-hop as a whole
“She was mad cause I never wanna show her off
And everytime she took her bra off my dick would get soft
I thought I had a problem, kept my head inside the pillow screaming”
A choir-like bridge follows, before the track launches off with a breakbeat drum pattern, reminiscent of trip-hop, and a lavish piano comes into focus. Joba delivers a rapid-fire verse, while Dom, the most technically skilled rapper, talks about the pressure he feels as the group has risen to fame and the scrutiny that comes with this newfound attention (“I apologize for not calling due to weight”). It’s a breathtaking track, combining exciting production with brutally honest verses, giving me a window into these member’s lives, as they’ve done consistently well throughout their short career so far. “TAPE” is another personal standout; the beat is a clear interpolation of Radiohead’s “Videotape”, and the band members talk more about their insecurities. Joba delivers one of his best verses, continuing to prove himself as a rapper:
“All my life I’ve felt inadequate
And through the years I’ve dealt with
Tragedy after tragedy, God, send a message”
The album wasn’t received too well with many of the group’s fans; they didn’t like the shift in tone and style, and thought the emotional tracks were too emotional. But to me, it was a perfect encapsulation of what the band was feeling at the time. One of their best friends was (rightfully) kicked out of the band and they were reeling from the absence. The sound of iridescence matches this sense of unease they felt, with the aggressive industrialism that most of the tracks on it have, while the cathartic, emotional tracks were staggering in terms of hearing the band come to terms with what was happening to this once happy-go-lucky boyband of best friends living together in Los Angeles.
That theme of catharsis carried on completely to their most recent album, GINGER. This album is where the thesis of Brockhampton came into full light for me. The diversity of the band, the unique production, and the emotional heft that each member could bring to each track all gelled together to create a project that showcased each member’s strengths. The 1-2 punch that opens the album is as good as any in the group’s discography: opener “NO HALO” features a hypnotic acoustic guitar, with Merlyn delivering a sobering verse. “Mmm, options, runnin’ out of options/Mmm, options, used to have options” he sing-raps, a stark contrast from his usual bombastic and eccentric style. “SUGAR” is the group’s first platinum song, and deservedly so; it feels like a late 90s/early 2000s R&B classic, with Brockhampton’s modern take on it, and they soak the track with nostalgia reminiscent of what Frank Ocean does in his music. Guest performer Ryan Beatty croons on the chorus: “Spendin’ all my nights alone, waitin’ for you to call me/You’re the only one I want by my side when I fall asleep”.
The band’s fifth album is concise, mature, and authentic. It’s clear that the boys are hurting, still reckoning with their newfound fame and their insecurities. But from that hurt they tap into a compelling, immersive, and genre-hopping album that never fails to excite. “DEARLY DEPARTED” is a stunning psych-rap jam, with the members talking about loss, grief, and betrayal. As the track goes on, it evolves and keeps pushing forward, with a slow, languid beat supported by psychedelia-tinged guitars. Dom’s verse at the end always gives me goosebumps as he rips former member Ameer for setting up one of his friend’s for robbery. As his voice gets angrier, the track becomes kaleidoscopic in sound, and as he shouts “You could talk to God/
I don’t wanna hear, motherfucker”, you can hear him knock the mic off its stand and shut the door on his way out. It’s raw, it’s emotional, and it’s authentic. It’s what makes Brockhampton such a unique force in the genre.
The group took their emotions and turned it into a stunningly cathartic piece of work. Their versatility is still their strongest strength but on GINGER, they use that versatility to create 12 tracks that speak to their struggles in a way that’s relatable due to how honest they are. On the album’s title track, usually confident and aloof Matt Champion spills his heart: “I don’t even love no more/I don’t even trust no more”. In the chorus, Kevin Abstract tells his band members that he knows they’re all struggling, and that they have a space to air it all out: “Know you got your own shit, and all of it together/And you know you got your own space right here forever, baby”. The band’s vulnerability is one of their linchpins, and is a testament to the emotional maturity that the group has.
The album closes out with “VICTOR ROBERTS”, named after the rapper who delivers the verse. Dom met Victor playing Skate online on the Xbox 360, which is all-too-fitting for the Internet-formed group. He gives a compelling performance, telling his family’s story of trying to help someone whose dealings with drugs ultimately brings police trouble and upheaval to his life, reminiscent of Dom’s feeling of betrayal on “DEARLY DEPARTED”. Backed by somber piano, the verse ends and Ryan Beatty and Bearface delivers an outro that is the heart of what Brockhampton means, both to the group’s members and its fans. Ryan’s bridge, detailing what simply listening to a friend can do: “Thank God for my bitches still sticking with me/Thank God, when I talk, I know you listen to me”. Bearface delivers a signature trademark bridge: “And if you’re hurting, love yourself with my heart”.
Brockhampton has been a prominent force in hip-hop for only the last three years. In those three years, they’ve released 5 albums, several loose tracks, and have developed an ardent following. 14 members deep, each person brings a different outlook, a different style, a different sound. On paper, with all of these different voices, it’s easy to wonder if there are simply too many cooks in the kitchen, but it’s abundantly clear that with Brockhampton, the strong friendships that have formed are what lets them avoid that problem. The authenticity, the vulnerability, the versatility; all of these are key components of their music that they bring in each track. Brockhampton is no longer a fun story about a bunch of kids meeting up on the internet to start a rap group. They’re here to stay, and have shown how diversity, contrast, and fearlessness of delving into the human experience can create an immersive, universal sound.