By Eli Schoop, Copy Editor
Key Tracks: “Fuck Up The Sheraton,” “Slow Dance 2”
Are you the type of Father fan that likes “Look At Wrist?” Would you enjoy an album full of songs like that? If you answered yes, steer clear of I’m A Piece Of Shit. This is the type of record that gets called “mature” and “evolved” regardless of the quality, simply for the lyrical content.
Father’s signature grimy beats take center-stage here as he bemoans being just so attractive to hoes and harlots alike. It’s a move that seems to actively invite comparisons to his last two releases, Who’s Gonna Get Fucked First? and Young Hot Ebony — but while the previous LPs served as ample introductions into Father’s unhinged world of mayhem, I’m A Piece Of Shit takes more a self-loathing route towards expressing himself.
The problem arises in detachment. Twitter-made verses, diluted corruption, and an obsession don’t clear a path towards what the Atlanta rapper actually feels. What is hashtag rap without the fun? There are moments here and there, but they seem fleeting, as if Father is disinterested in his music creating some sense of joy — yet he lacks the nuance and candid experience artists like Earl Sweatshirt or Vince Staples bring to their albums.
Internet directness crafts knee-jerk opinions, yes? Obviously there are far too many armchair critics and uninvolved pundits nowadays to take most input remotely seriouslyBut the opposite could be true as well. If one packs an album with hot topic content (no pun intended) i.e. Xanax, social media, rebellion, it should at least be engaging. Father fails to honor this ebb and flow, sounding off on a wholly boring album.