By shelz.

How long do we hold on to the emotional beat down that was adolescence?  Those who spewed venom to mask insecurity probably dropped it at the exit after graduation. The recipients of the rancor though, have been known to carry it for decades.  Case in point; Childish Gambino aka Donald Glover and his angst-ridden pay for play debut, Camp.

Gambino’s recitation of his teen years comes at a curious time considering his age (he’s close to 30) and his very successful Hollywood career.  But Camp is nonetheless enthralling in its themes.  The LP, however, is not always captivating in its construction.  Some of the songs are put together oddly, toggling between old school minimalism and grand scale sonic posturing.  Glover’s delivery is unpolished at times, making some of the final cuts sound like practice runs.

The LP starts with “Outside,” an obvious attempt to take the emotional energy from 0-60 immediately.  The spring-loaded keys and composed ohhh’s of the intro quickly morph into something much more powerful as Glover covers his life before his star rose and then the life after. This dichotomy ribbons through the entire album with Mr. Gambino see-sawing between past and present regularly.

“Fire Fly” breaks the tension and brings a feel good vibe in a driving down the Pacific Coast Highway in a drop top kind of way.  Glover rallies the eclectic troops and covers the more enjoyable elements of the business.  Get out your Nuvo bottles; this is a raise ‘em to the sky song.

Chainsaw guitars play foundation to a simple snare, a round robin of echoing chants and intermittent thump on “Bonfire.”  Gambino uses the open foundation to trot through a plethora of subjects from his dick, his love for wearing short-shorts, his financial standing and a suggestion that he’s the best black actor turned rapper.

*Note from the margin…I disagree.

Camp moves on to “All the Shine,” a slow-building burner with some more electric guitar, hand claps and churning strings.  It’s a bit busy, the strings aren’t always welcomed and the transitions could use some finesse.  Gambino’s story about his realness being mistaken for contrived eccentricity and “stupid shit” is as unfocused as the production.  He does prove himself a capable hook singer though.

The strings on “Letter Home” are so beautiful they outshine Gambino on his own song, which by the way is, “Marvin’s Room”-ish in spirit without the “fuck that nigga” part. This leads thematically into “Heartbeat,” an angry manifesto from a dude who is still having sex with the chick that kicked him to the curb after he decided he loved her.  Poor baby. Before you skip to the next song though, recite the lyrics to Eddy Grant’s “Electric Avenue” over this track.  It works like Dark Side of the Moon over Wizard of Oz.  Sort of, but not really.

“L.E.S.” finds Glover slipping in and out of different flows, including one that sounds like spoken word double time.  It not clear if his laughter at the end is because of what he said or how he said it, but it’s not his best delivery. “Hold You Down” is a walk down memory lane all the way back to 7^th grade when the kids called him lame.

*Note from the margin …  In my meaner years I would have told him to get over it, but I’m nicer now.

Plus, there is some interesting chatter about the “black experience” and the subtleties of acceptable racism here laid over the Schroeder style piano tinkling. He also recognizes rock as an African-American art form and that’s well… awesome.

Even with the cool, playing-wine-glasses sound of “Kids,” it’s a bit too mushy and Kenny G sounding to fit in here.  It would fit in an elevator though.  Sorry. “You See Me” has the potential for dopeness, but it sounds empty and Gambino replicates some Kanyeish patterns.  Plus it’s the 20^th time he reminds us people call him a fag.  It’s not until the end of “That Power,” the last and longest  song on the album, that you realize he’s almost apologizing for being stuck in a 15 year old holding pattern  by saying he never got off the camp bus.  You actually have to listen to it to understand.  No spoiler here.

The moral of the story?  Camp is compelling in some spots and childish in others.  It’s a head-nodder and then not.  It’s beautiful and then not.  It’s about as wacky and scattered as the narrator.  And that’s not a wholly bad thing.

3.25 Out of 5

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