Danny Brown is probably best known for his 2016 masterpiece Atrocity Exhibition, the harrowing journey of a newly successful rapper on an ugly downward spiral. Any ounce of hope or love is snuffed out by Brown’s drug-addled squawking and his distinct choice of manic soundscapes.
If that album felt like Brown’s vices searing off his skin, then Stardust is akin to a cool baptism. Its opening track, “Book of Daniel,” lifts the burdens of Brown’s pain and addiction off of him in a divine fashion. Confidence, vibrancy and catharsis shine through every crevice as Brown states boldly that he is not only the greatest, but part of the famed “big three” rappers of his generation. It’s awe-inspiring.
Brown might love making music more than anyone I’ve ever listened to; he truly uses the medium for a pure expression of his inner self — something that continues as Brown enters this happy part of his life. Hip-hop loses so many stars far too soon, so for Brown to overcome addiction and depression and thrive in his creative element is one of the most exciting prospects for any hip-hop head in the 2020s.
But it’s not just a relief to see Brown so happy to be alive; it’s the key to this album being as excellent as it is. Every track pulses with determination, positivity and a vigorous confidence in oneself. Brown operates with an artistic freedom that elevates his craftsmanship to new heights.
Given this creative freedom, Brown’s close proximity to the underground sees him experimenting with hyperpop and other electronic subgenres. But don’t let the experimentation keep you away — this album gets you moving. Brown has always brought energy to the table, but he has never brought his listeners to the dance floor quite like this. “Lift You Up” is a stroke of genius, and one of his best tracks ever, with a groovy beat and a hypnotic loop that would feel right at home on a Daft Punk album.
Brown doesn’t handle this task of futuristic danceable hip-hop alone. With the help of electronic music maestros like Frost Children, underscores and Jane Remover, songs like “Baby,” “All4U” and “Copycats,” bring a glitchy liveliness to Brown’s music unmatched by his previous efforts. Still, despite the noisiness of these records, Brown pierces through the static with his newfound clarity and energy. He’s comfortable enough to write tracks about relationships and romantic attraction without the overt toxicity that usually comes with it on his albums.
That clarity is sharpened on his most introspective tracks, with “What You See” deconstructing his previously debaucherous lifestyle as a desperate attempt to fill a void that only made him lonelier. He alludes to this power trip being an out-of-body experience, writing “Trapped in my ego, gettin’ whatever he want,” as if his hubris was unconsciously moving him toward this selfish behavior. Dreamy production from Quadeca makes these realizations feel euphoric, while not taking away from the darkness of this part of Brown’s life.
The introspection continues through the climax of the album, “The End,” a nearly nine-minute adventure, driven by three different producers, including full verses in Polish and Ukrainian from featured artists. Brown contributes to the all-out nature of this penultimate track, giving an inspiring sermon on trusting oneself and taking life one day at a time. The song also concludes a running motif throughout the album, the spoken word pieces from Angel Prost on authenticity and emotion in a digital era. Railing against the performative nature of the internet, Angel pleads, “Can we enjoy something before we crest and sink into sleep” over and over.
However, not every experiment on this album pans out perfectly. “1999,” while sonically interesting, is nearly unpalatable in just how grating its skittering electronics can be. And while it is refreshing to hear a new angle on romantic relationships from Brown, they don’t exactly offer anything mind-blowing lyrically, given Brown’s obvious unfamiliarity with the subject. “Green Light” is the most obvious songwriting sore spot, with a pretty one-note rapping performance about a sexual encounter that even Brown seems somewhat uncomfortable with elaborating on.
That said, these dips in quality don’t distract from the ethos of the album. In fact, they enforce it. Part of this album’s search for authenticity includes stepping into areas that its principal artist is unfamiliar with. These songs aren’t looking to scratch anyone’s itch; they’re the obvious product of a creator embracing discovery and ambition. That will no doubt mean biting off a little more than one can chew. That is much more admirable than creating intentionally unremarkable music, and Danny Brown is anything but unremarkable.
Daily Arts Writer Nathaniel Evans can be reached at natevan@umich.edu.