By Odeisel
I remember being a kid and thinking about the future. 2010 came and the Marty McFly’s were on sale but you couldn’t fly with them. The Transformers were in the movies but the world, at least for now, hasn’t been taken over by machines. Sometimes while entertaining and livable, the future isn’t all it’s cracked up to be. After a few listens of rapper Future’s album Pluto, I have again arrived at the same conclusion.
The Jiggaman pronounced autotune dead a while ago, but Future could give a damn. His rhymes are smothered in it and the dish is an acquired taste. If you loved the single “Tony Montana” then the gravy is good. If you didn’t you will be holding your plate beneath the table begging for the dog to eat it.
The album opens with a Big Rube spoken word on track “The Future Is Now,” which undoubtedly gets your mind ready for that Outkast music. The somber delivery and the talk of space and time set a stage for a higher level experience. The hype opening of the R.Kelly crooned opening “Parachute” is a legit open and R.Kelly drops a better than acceptable rhyme over intermittent 808 drums. Future remains on the periphery for most of the track but his unintelligible delivery bring the song back to earth.
“Straight Up” is cliché with synth and snare drums, talk of red bottoms, tricking, and elementary lyrics. The “Magic” remix, featuring T.I. is more of the same. The Gucci Mane style of elementary lyrics with easy to remember hooks and repetition is in full effect and only T.I.’s addition saves this song from drivel. Juicy J drops by on “I’m Trippin,’” a smoked out tale involving lots of drugs (a pound of weed) codeine and sprite, visions and doing his girl’s best friend. Again 808 drums to wack rappers are like diamonds to girls…their best friend.
“Permanent Scar” is an attempt to get deep as future talks about surviving tough times and the deaths of his homies. We’ve heard this song many times before, but kudos for sharing some of his personal tragedies as his uncle’s second attempted suicide. Trap music extravaganza brings the synth the snare drums and the tubas all together on “Same Damn Time.” He’s buying Gucci, and Jimmy Choo and a bunch of labels that could care less about his patronage. He’s high as fuck “fucking two bad bitches” and cooking crack with diamonds. Should have been titled “Same Damn Song.”
Snoop Dogg lends his Crip pedigree to “Homicide” but it isn’t worth a damn thing. Having Snoop at this stage of his career wipe you off the mic says more about you than him. It gets really strange and incredibly wack on “Turn On The Lights.” He turns off the autotune, but his flow is lazy and when he attempts a sing-song flow you pray for a power outage or that whatever listening device you have malfunctions. A few songs later, “Paradise” is fairly serviceable, but that’s a victory on this album. The album closes with the pedestrian “Fishcale,” a tale about that coke.
Future as a rapper lacks lyrics and charisma. It’s as if you took Gucci Mane, added autotune, removed his songwriting ability and his goofy charm and just wound him up and let him go. I listened multiple times trying to find something to support or like and all I found were high” points that prevented me from giving it a 1/5. Pluto belongs there; millions of miles away from your stereo.
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