No Frills Reviews

One of rap’s most unique voices proves he’s far more than a gimmick with an enjoyable album that’s full of contradictions

Street slinging, pimpin’ and bad bitches; this is pretty much clichéd territory for hip-hop. But coming from the mouth of Bruiser Wolf it sounds like an exotic new strain of rap. Like his Bruiser Brigade label-mate, Danny Brown, Wolf is one of the most unique voices in the game.

Apologies to any American readers for the British-ness of this reference, but the Detroit rapper may well be rap’s Chris Eubank. Behind the eccentricity and impeccably polished facade, lies one of the toughest motherfuckers in their field. Beneath his jovial front, there’s a weary wisdom and subtle air of menace; he has the cadence of a pimp with delusions of grandeur.

Following his 2021 debut, Dope Game Stupid, there was a risk for Wolf that he became seen as a novelty or a gimmick. On his second album, his solution seems to have been to go bigger; bigger beats, bigger hooks, bigger punchlines. While he’s still covering a lot of the same ground, recounting tales from his former life in the dope game, that ‘go big’ approach means this album feels like a step forward.

The production is more varied than his debut, which was almost all handled by Bruiser Brigade’s Raphy, who still provides the foundation here, but with a heavier helping-hand from a selection of producers. Most notably the smokey soul loop provided by Harry Fraud for the opening ode to being too old for this shit. What follows is the album’s real standout, EJay Beatz lifts the same sample used in A$AP Rocky’s 1Train and, fittingly, turns it from posse cut into the most gloriously depraved and rapturous party cut since Fuckin’ Problems from that same album.

Wolf is all about contrasts though, immediately segueing from that banger into Waiting In The Lobby, adopting an almost nursery rhyme-like flow as he takes the role of dutiful dad. He imparts regret-laced warnings, as if he’s living with the consequences of his exploits in the previous track. The juxtaposition in the sequencing of the opening tracks is almost comedic.

And absurdist comedy is a big part of Wolf’s appeal. His whole flow is reliant on a constant stream of punchlines, and he’s more than happy to oblige; with his wordplay delivering a goldmine of outstanding lines. I think there’s probably more cumshot metaphors alone than I have room to mention. There’s also his ability to switch inflection and turn himself into a human hook machine. Best demonstrated on Crack Cocaine, where he twists a relatively mundane line into something infectiously memorable.

But that sense of contrast is never too far away, and Wolf isn’t afraid to drop a heavy dose of melancholy into the festivities. Like the matter-of-fact admission of “I’m married to the game and I hate that bitch” on Hurry Up & Buy, or on lead single, Dope Boy, which is the spiritual successor to his debut’s Momma Was a Dopefiend, as he reflects on the inevitability of his fate.

Those deeper insights and glimpses of vulnerability almost feel like teasers as he leans into those big beats, hooks, and punchlines that make him so easily enjoyable. This album certainly prove he’s far more than a gimmick, but you get the feeling that there’s still a lot more of those contrasts to be uncovered.

Best tunes: 2 Bad, Dope Boy, Crack Cocaine

---

More Reviews