Steve 'Flash' JuonIn some ways this is easy. Pouya is the stage name for Kevin Pouya, and “Gator” is an obvious reference to the fact he’s from Florida. He’s hiding nothing here. As I understand it that’s part of his charm and how he developed a following as an independent artist. It doesn’t hurt that he and Fat Nick had a successful YouTube comedy series together either. The one thing that nobody has explained to me is why songs like “Broken Soul (breaking bread)” off of “Gator” immediately remind me of Kendrick Lamar’s melodic delivery on “Swimming Pools (Drank).” In fact – if you called him “the white raspy Kendrick” I’d be forced to agree with you.
It’s not like the comparison fades over time as you listen to more of his work. The title of “Top notch hoes get the most, not the lesser” might be inspired by Bun B, but the delivery on the track is anything but Texas trill. Mikey the Magician gives him and guest star Ramirez some soulful brass samples to flow over. I’m hooked on the sound of the beat and I like the flow of both rappers, but I can’t get away from how Duckworth-esque the whole thing is.
Mikey is one of Pouya’s repeat producers on “Gator” and he helps draw out a little more distinctiveness from his charge. Songs like “Maniac (Murda Miami)” featuring Nell and Kilo G hew closer to being a Floridian emcee that Moist Cr1tikal would recognize, although it surprises me a little that Pouya sounds so dire about his life on the track. “My hell is never-ending/I’ve been living with the devil on my shoulder, any human that’s colder than me? (Bitch)/Hotter than me, you can’t reach my degree/I don’t read but I do release magazines.” Depression and paranoia seem to be his baseline though if the Delmar laced follow up track “Patty Melts” is any indication.
“From patty melts to caviar
1997 Audi coupe to Audemars
When it’s far too far to fall off
Tried to remember how I felt when I was broke
to compare with how I feel today, is it really that far off?”
It’s not hard to understand how Kevin Pouya developed his fanbase. He’s self-effacing, he’s selective about the beats he raps over, and whether he likes the comparison or not the vocal similarities to Mr. Lamar don’t hurt. If you’re going to sound like anybody in terms of delivery or style picking the most critically acclaimed rapper of this generation is a good choice. In case you thought this was music you could play around your grandmother though you’d better leave that to Duckworth. I don’t think she’d like the title of OR the aggressive rock sound of “Cum Rag.” Delmar pushes Pouya as far out of his comfort zone as possible and he accepts the challenge with gusto, though it’s probably going to be too Kid Rock for some listeners. “Feel For You” might be okay at the nursing home though.
On the whole the vibe I get from “Gator” is that Pouya is mostly chill but occasionally likes to be a provocateur and/or troll a little bit. He’s a playful Floridian imp, not in terms of stature or importance, but in terms of mischievousness and swagger. Knowing of him only by reputation without having done a deep dive into his music before this album, I walked away pleasantly surprised that he was neither a cookie cutter Florida rap artist nor a clone of today’s commercially successful acts. It’s surprising that he’s managed to remain independent but if you ask me that’s his best chance of continuing to make interesting music. A major label would tamper with his formula too much.