The late-2010s rise of
Brockhampton was nothing short of meteoric: from their dizzying triptych of Saturation releases to the top of the charts within a year, each successive album marked a significant step forward in production sonics and subject matter for the genre-blurring rap outfit. On
Roadrunner: New Light, New Machine, the wild boys become thoughtful men, digging even deeper into complex, real-life themes such as religion, race, sexuality, mortality, and mental illness on their most focused and mature work to date. Serving mostly as a catalyst for vocalist Joba to process his father's passing ("The Light" and "The Light Pt. II"), the rest of
Roadrunner finds leader
Kevin Abstract processing a variety of relatable issues -- both personal and societal -- with the support of the
Brockhampton crew and an impressive roster of guests. Technical precision and introspective lyrics mark this album as their most rap-centric project thus far, inspiring both concentrated head-nodding and the thrill of the rush as each emcee's verse impeccably weaves from one to another.
Detroit's own
Danny Brown kicks
Roadrunner off with the set's most raucous moment, "Buzzcut," a wild reintroduction to the
Brockhampton world that takes a serious turn on the
JPEGMAFIA-starring "Chain On," the final version of a song first heard on the crew's 2020 lockdown series Technical Difficulties, which called out police violence and the murder of George Floyd. That existential dread swirls on centerpiece "Windows," which finds the full crew and guest SoGone SoFlexy tackling all the issues that defined 2020 atop hardened production that echoes peak-era
Wu-Tang Clan, and later on the hypnotic, G-funk-lite "Don't Shoot Up the Party," which lays America's ills on the table. On the lighter side, the comforting "Count On Me" with
A$AP Rocky, SoGone, and
Shawn Mendes has the potential to be
Brockhampton's best chance at a radio crossover hit, while the smooth two-step bop "I'll Take You On" breezes effortlessly along with R&B icon
Charlie Wilson. While the bulk of the album centers on pain, the group are certain to shift focus to hope and finding the "light" of the title. Even as Joba recounts his father's suicide on "The Light," he still tries "to see the light between the clouds." Later,
Bearface offers the beautiful hymn "Dear Lord," a prayer for his friend that leads straight into Joba's pleading mantra "the light is worth the wait, I promise" on closer "The Light Pt. II." By processing the darkness in their lives together, they find common ground with listeners dealing with their own trials.
Roadrunner serves as a masterful group therapy session, picking up the broken pieces of life and uplifting with cautious optimism. ~ Neil Z. Yeung