Now, nearly a decade after the dawn of cloud rap, we’ve arrived at Playboi Carti – a young Atlanta rapper who doesn’t really spit, has no readymade aesthetic, has little personality beyond “exuberant,” isn’t that funny, and doesn’t even release a whole lot of music. This was cloud rap – the oneiric genre that threw all rap dogma out the window to focus on vibe – and it prepared the world for the current rap revolution in which artists openly flip the bird to the idea that rap’s value is defined by its rhymes. Listeners laughed at Yung Lean before they fell in love with his aesthetic, with all those dolphins and palm trees and iced tea cans floating in midair. People giggled at Viper until they realized he was making his own beats and was fucking great at it. People were appalled by Lil B until they realized he knew exactly what he was doing and that nobody that prolific could be a slouch. It used to be that if you couldn’t – or didn’t – spit, you could silence the haters with a nice aesthetic, an enviable work ethic or a good sense of humor.
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