“The strippers I know in particular love dancing to him,” said Kiana. “And I believe if your song is a hit in the strip club, it’s likely to have mass appeal.”
The switch from P-Valley mode back to moshing felt almost obligatory. I understand we’re in the Rolling Loud era where the sight of bodies being flung together is a big sell for rap shows, but Don’s music ultimately felt too clean and unabrasive for that, missing the blaring distortion and noise that makes it seem mandatory at Opium shows. From afar, the mosh pits seemed kind of weak—too many guys wearing “Peanut Butter Jelly Time” banana suits for whatever reason. At one point, a bunch of masked dudes invaded the pit like the NWO, though it was pretty apparent they were on the Cactus Jack payroll.
There were plenty of guests. Teezo Touchdown doing Teezo Touchdown stuff. Cash Cobain, always welcome. The white boys in my aisle were damn-near falling over themselves trying to get a better view of Sexyy Red twerking, and the same went for Cardi B, who did a new joint that fell flat. Busta Rhymes dazzled with his “Look At Me Now” verse. Slick Rick popped up and I heard a lot of whispers of “Who is that?” Sad but expected, though I appreciated Don’s attempt at contextualizing his music within hip-hop. Sometimes all of this post-rage music can seem like something else entirely, so it means something when an artist takes the time to remind us that they are a part of that lineage, which is probably why I have a soft spot for Playboi Carti’s MUSIC.
Don’s biggest inspiration of the night seemed to be Kanye. Is that the reason for the Don Toliver boom? Kanye’s flameout left a void that had to be filled by someone, and Don was ready with an alternative that isn’t nearly as original but has that level of polish. The most Kanye thing he did was when he strapped himself to an elevated platform and floated above the crowd. He yelled out for everyone to “open up that mosh pit,” too bad he didn’t have the personality to match the spectacle.
Later, on the plugg-ish “Tiramisu,” he landed a falsetto that hit my ears just right. I always knew he could sing, but at that moment he sounded something like Ronnie Spencer, the Houston bluesman who tore up choruses on UGK and Z-Ro jams (my favorite) back in the day. It made me kind of nostalgic for all of the hip-hop hook specialists who never got their respect, never had their time in the limelight. Is the Don Toliver moment just the universe righting those wrongs? If that’s the case, I can get down with that.
What I’m listening to:
