Okay—let’s just get the jokes out of the way here.
First: I can’t really tell from the cover art, but which member of Pussy Riot is Schoolboy Q?
And Second: I’m glad that Raekwon could take time out of his busy schedule of tweeting things like “Purchase my new single ‘All About U’ feat. @EstelleDarlings which is on @iTunesMusic now!” five times a day, to drop the guest verse on “Blind Threats.”
So now let’s get down to it ya’ll. Serious review time. Bearded Gents. Anhedonic Headphones. Kev E Fly on the mic. Check one-two, one-two. Here we go…
Who exactly is Schoolboy Q? Well, despite the ski-mask he sports on the cover of Oxymoron, he is not a member of Pussy Riot. At least not that I am aware of anyway. I don’t want to sell him or his skill set short, but I would say that he is amongst the crop of “Pitchfork rappers” that have popped up within the last two or three years.
What I mean by that is that you more than likely would have heard of Schoolboy Q sooner rather than later, but because of the assist from Pitchfork in 2012, giving his second LP Habits and Contradictions a respectable 8.4, as well as knighting it with the title of “Best New Music” it sped up his recognition considerably. Q also happens to be part of the Top Dawg Entertainment stable of artists, also home to Isaiah Rashad, who just released is rather impressive Cilvia Demo in January, along with an artist named Kendrick Lamar, whom you may have heard of. These artists, with a few others, operate under the loose collective name of the Black Hippy Crew.
Hearing the word “Hippy” leads one to believe, at first, that these artists are rapping about peace and love, putting a flower into the barrel of a gun that is pointed at them. That is, however, not the case, and one learns that rather quickly.
While Lamar was the Crew’s obvious breakout star at the end of 2012 and into 2013, it’s now time for the other members of the Black Hippie Crew to try to escape the chill of being in his shadow. Oxymoron is Q’s attempt at doing that. And full disclosure—I really tried with Lamar’s lauded release Good Kid, m.A.A.d City, but it just didn’t work out. So while I am aware that he is a talented young individual, GKMC was just not for me.
I hesitate to say that Oxymoron is also not for me, but when compared to Rashad’s Cilvia Demo, it certainly is not as immediate of a listen. But this may be like trying to compare apples to a fruit that nobody has ever heard of before. While they are label mates and part of the same collective, musically these artists are opposites. Living up to the stark, unsettling artwork, Oxymoron, overall, is a rather dark, disconcerting affair, proving that in the days of friendly and affable Top 40 “rappers” like Macklemore, in the hands of the right artist, hip-hop can still be incredibly menacing.
But menacing doesn’t always mean interesting.
Q paints a rather grim picture on Oxymoron, specifically on “Hoover Street,” where he recalls his troubled upbringing with his grandmother showing him a gun, and life with his drug-addicted uncle. On the album’s opening track, aptly titled “Gangsta,” Q is not afraid to spell it all out, and the final line of the song pretty much sums it up: “Real solider, head off shoulders, makeover.” I suppose none of this should be a surprise to hear coming from a member of the Crips.
The album’s partial titular track, “Prescription/Oxymoron” goes into graphic detail of Q’s reliance on prescription drugs—specifically Oxycontin—as well as his drug dealing past. It’s an incredibly dark song, the subject matter partially backed up by a sparse and unsettling beat constructed from the Portishead song “Undenied,” making it one of the few attention-grabbing moments on the album.
So, gritty subject matter aside, as a whole Oxymoron is a relatively uneven listen. It’s a long album, can be a tad slow at times, and structurally, the pacing seems off, so it often feels like it falters under its own weight. Early on, the Pharrell Williams helmed “Los Awesome” never really shows the greatness that Williams is capable of as a producer, instead falling back on obnoxious synth blasts and an awful, yet catchy refrain. Even when he’s not firing on all cylinders, Williams still knows how to write an infectious hook. On the following track “Collard Greens” Q offers up an even more obnoxious, yet even catchier refrain.
Later on, Q attempts a “love” song of sorts with “Studio,” where he confesses, rather bluntly, that instead of being in a recording studio, he’d rather be high as fuck, balls deep in his girl—“No metaphors, nothing like that. I’m keeping it straight to the point with you, I’mma put this dick up all inside of you.” And while “Los Awesome” is apparently dedicated to fellow gang members, it’s these brief breaks from the gangsta glorification of the rest of the album that give it a real lack of cohesion.
As a performer, Schoolboy Q’s voice is a little sandpapery and can be a little shouty on occasion, which tested my patience with Oxymoron. On “Gangsta,” the refrain is simply: “Gangsta gangsta gangsta gangsta gangsta gangsta, We gangsta gangsta gangsta…” well you get the idea. Similarly, on “Break The Bank,” Q barks “We about to break the bank—money be on my mind.” Its moments like this that I wish were just slightly easier on the ears.
Like many hip-hop albums filled with tales of “true crime,” Schoolboy Q contradicts himself often. He shows repentance and regret for his poor choices, but at the same time, is having difficulties letting go of his old ways. But between this and the excessive objectification of women—lyrically, Oxymoron wears out its welcome very early on.
I hesitate slightly to say that Oxymoron is a bit of a flaccid and uninteresting experience, but for me it isn’t a very compelling listen. It doesn’t feel like it was rushed or hastily put together—quite the contrary. At times, it seems quite labored over, but because of the appearance of many marquee named producers—Mike Will Made It, the aforementioned Williams, and The Alchemist—it never really hits its stride and never allows itself to build off of the momentum of the previous track.
For all of its shortcomings, there are some noteworthy moments. The earlier mentioned first part of “Prescription/Oxymoron” creeps along, paranoid and claustrophobic, partially thanks to the beat, but also due to the subject matter, and the desperate manner in which Q delivers his lyrics. This sets the bar rather high, and the second part unfortunately fails to deliver—retreating back to the somewhat generic and forgettable sounding trap style percussion that is heavily used on the record.
And later on, as much shit as I give Raekwon for his horrible social media presence, he does bring it on “Blind Threats,” one of the few tracks that sports a rather restrained, somewhat laid back, yet unnerving beat.
Oxymoron isn’t an inherently bad album, but I was also not, like, blown away by it. It falls prey to what could be viewed as a meddling by a major label to pull out all the stops, spend a lot of money, and make Schoolboy Q a star, but completely losing focus on the way there.
Rating: 2.5/5