What happens when a genre inspired by the hollowness of branding itself becomes a brand? Over the last few years, George Clanton’s 100% Electronica label has carried forward the momentum of a decade of vaporwave, taking the genre offline, launching festivals and merchandise, and minting an overall more consumer-friendly presentation of a sound once confined to the most baffling corridors of the internet. Though he’s remained a constant ringleader, Clanton himself has been relatively quiet in terms of output, only dropping the occasional loose single and a collaborative album with the frontman of 311. As his profile continued to rise, it remained to be seen how he would eventually follow up his invigorating 2018 debut, Slide.
After five years, the questionably titled Ooh Rap I Ya reveals that not much has changed: ’90s big beat drums reign supreme, shoegazey guitars provide some modern polish, and Clanton’s voice is still swinging for Tears for Fears levels of anthemic cheese. Where Slide deftly blended Clanton’s various projects together—melding his smudged electro-pop as Mirror Kisses and more traditionally vaporwave collages as ESPRIT 空想 into one body-thrashing rockstar entity—Ooh Rap I Ya struggles to find new or better ways to make the pieces fit. The longer it goes on, the more its densely smeared synths start to feel confused rather than euphoric.
The songs on Ooh Rap I Ya can be roughly split into two categories, each attempting to unveil a deeper layer to Clanton’s persona. On one hand are songs like “Justify Your Life,” “I Been Young,” and “F.U.M.L.,” which take the charged-up Y2K pop of Slide and refract it through a wearier lens, casting Clanton as a hungover partygoer who’s getting older and coming to terms with past mistakes. The remaining tracks (concentrated in the back half of the album) showcase Clanton the psychedelic soundscaper, favoring his slo-mo production and largely relegating vocals to the background. Each half has its moments and misses, but taken together, they suggest an artist without a particularly strong commitment to either direction.
When Clanton does hit the target, the results are nectar-sweet: “Justify Your Life” cultivates a vintage downbeat haze, its trip-hoppy drums and fretless bassline rolling in like waves. It feels like something you’d find on a VHS compilation of forgotten MTV-era breakup jams (you can practically see the overdone blue filters and piped-in rain). Nostalgia figures heavily into Clanton’s chillwave boyband playbook, and he knows how to have fun with these tropes, even if it’s only skin deep. “I Been Young” is a best-case scenario, its slamming Breakfast Club piano chords conjuring a sense of time passing by—a sentimental slow-rider served with a wink. Some of Clanton’s impressions are better than others though; getting to the song’s arms-in-the-air chorus requires wading through a verse where Clanton hisses in a limp staccato somewhere between Michael Jackson and Justin Timberlake, undercutting any emotional catharsis. At a certain point, ironically embracing corniness just circles back to being corny again.
