Damien HolstersPart of Nerd Ferguson’s appeal is that you never really know whether he’s being serious or not. His signature braggadocio style consists of bars so simple that they would disqualify another MC, but are spit with such nonchalant self-awareness that a critic might pause to think whether calling them out wouldn’t actually make him the simpleton.
That doesn’t mean they should all get a pass though. As mentioned elsewhere, rhyming “Jay-Z” and “crazy”, at any point during any rhyme scheme, should be avoided by every rapper, with the utmost rigor. Clearly, it’s supposed to be cool when a rapper doesn’t bother, but then the result is that he might just pick whatever is in front of him, no matter how low-hanging:
“You can be sick of me but what would the point be?
You need me in the game cause that’s where the points be” (“Ma & Pop Woulda Been Proud of Me”)
“Hands up in the air now
Yeah ho, I’m the man now
Everybody a fan now
Quick to knock a whole clan down”(“Hov’s “Ha” Flow”)
At times, it’s tempting to dismiss the whole thing as elementary, both in terms of lyrics and delivery. However, Nerd Ferg’s simplicity sometimes strikes gold. An opening like:
“I heard the beat and I ain’t know what to write
So I figured I would flow about life” (“Iono, Pt. 1 & Pt. 2”)
… is so good, yet so hiding-in-plain-sight you wonder how come no one’s ever rapped it before.
On “Thirty Nine,” Ferg is long past the lyrical-miracle quadruple entendres; he likes his punchlines neat, his introspection unsullied by over-the-top imagery (there are barely one or two metaphors in the entire album – one more if you consider “You’re All I Have” as a metaphorical song in itself, one in the vein of Common’s “I Used to Love H.E.R.”, Kanye’s “Homecoming” or Eminem’s “25 to Life” ; if you know you know). Twenty years into the game, he doesn’t seek plaudits for breaking the norms of black cool, wrong-footing the conventions of comedy rap, or pioneering wacky album and song titles; that battle was fought, and for those who paid attention, won.
This one feels less like a project he wanted to make, and more like one he needed to. It only takes looking at the album cover, at that bereft birthday boy, sitting listlessly with his pink Vans t-shirt and gentle giant energy, to understand what you’re dealing with. This is grown-man emo rap: discernible lyrics from a melancholy clown, on the verge of middle age, reminiscing and coming to terms with his past failures in music (“Couple joints on the radio/Nothing too crazy tho’ (…) Shit drying up, niggas not checking for the kid now”) and in love (“Ultimately I know I only have me to blame/ Thought it was a game ‘till I was the one gettin’ played”).
Regrettably, some of the plainer songs feel out of place and superfluous. Of course, most of the braggadocio only serves to counterbalance the insecurities expressed throughout the album. But a few here and there would’ve sufficed to uphold the contrast – for instance, the short, quirky “Hyundai Elantra Music IV” does the trick perfectly. Conversely, “Hot Boy”, “I Don’t Wanna Think About It” – with its terrible chorus – or “What Would Drag-On Do?” while not entirely devoid of fun moments, only bring the album’s value down.
Ferguson could restfully leave bars like “Ladies grab your tits if you love hip hop” to other rappers, and in terms of production, they are nowhere near as interesting as the refined drums on “Ma & Pop Woulda Been Proud of Me”, the mesmeric trumpet on “You’re All I Have”, which samples “Uważaj jak tańczysz” by Polish rap group WWO (or at least shares the same sample), or the split structure, Nujabes-like melody and electric guitar outro on standout track “Iono, Pt. 1 & Pt.2”. Take out the three aforementioned songs entirely, take out a bunch of those self-indulgent nothing-sandwich lines that pervade other songs, and you would possibly have a 30-minute, more cohesive, sweet-and-sour, underground album of the year contender.
Fewer tracks would also have smoothed the narrative progression of the album’s story, one wherein the only possible happy end is acceptance. This is exemplified by the album’s last song, “Sorry Baby, But I Tried”, which closes the book on a long-lasting love story that could’ve been (and whose other protagonist might be the female voice doing all the voice-message soundbites throughout). As for Ferg’s insecurities, such as those expressed in “Sometimes, I Just Wanna Die” or on the chorus of “Iono”:
“I’m just here trying to figure it out
I don’t know what that shit is about (…)
Must be nice to live life without that crippling doubt
I don’t know what that shit is about”
… they eventually get their resolution in the chorus of “Breathe”:
“Just breathe
Take a look around it ain’t as awful as it seems
And even if you look around and don’t know what it means
All you gotta do is take a minute to
Breathe”