Lil Tracy. Yung Bruh. Tracy Minajj. Toreshi. You get the idea. With every chapter of life that passes, a new iteration of Jazz Ishmael Butler emerges.
Photo by Nathan Copes.
In many aspects, the amalgamation of sounds and words brought forth in his 5 track EP SINNER contain fragments of Tracy’s past lives. Long time spectators of the public theatre that is this man’s life will be able to grasp the hallmark traditions of his previous works and pull themselves into this higher paradigm. This is not hyperbole. Every facet of Jazz’s musical skill set seem to have been refined, save for some thematic redundancies. Tracy may be at his most directional and collected ever. Sudden clarity after the storm.
SINNER opens to an anthem in “Tattoos.” Dripping in passion, Tracy divulges the details of an intimate relationship in melodic form. Rife with iconic one-liners that beg for an audience to sing along to, such as, “Let me know your secrets, I’m a diary” and, “Baby I’m a sinner, I can’t see myself inside the mirror.” Marvy Ayy creates an atmosphere of incredibly high tension — metallic strings screeching, groaning bass slides, and rumbling mid-range percussion reminiscent of war drums.
The second track, “Rain rain go away,” produced by Koren, is where this project begins to throw it’s weight. The opening loop runs through deep textured chords, immediately setting a somber scene. Tracy uses the setting to sit in his sadness, fully experiencing and detailing with no uncertainty the losses experienced. At some points Tracy seems to muster a half hearted smirk through his lamentation, noticing the glimmers of light hanging around him despite the all enveloping darkness.
“Swear I might lose my mind if I lose anyone else, I’ll dig him out the grave if I could, and I know I never pray but I should.”
“All of these bitches Satan, except for my fucking Bae.”
Photo by Nathan Copes.
The namesake of the song, a nursery rhyme, is resurrected to serve as part of the chorus. This particular string of words is powerful enough to remain apt from it’s inception near 1533 A.D. The choice to wield it in a modern song is simple yet powerful. It’s origins and meaning perfectly encapsulate the mood of the song, illustrating a strangely infantile longing for comfort and warmth.
If “Rain rain go away” is the depths of hell, the following track “Bacteria” is the ascendance to a more heavenly state. Soothing guitars serenade the listener, and the prophetic Lil Tracy melodic vocal tag greets us. You just know it’s going to be good. In as few words as possible, “Bacteria” sounds like pearls on the Italian coastline. Bouncy kicks punch right through the mix, with snappy snares to counter, courtesy of producer Skress. Tracy uses this time to detail the cleanliness of his outfit, mirroring his choice to remain clean from drug use. Again, this song is slightly contrasted with the recollection of Lil Peep’s mother, weeping in mourning of her late son. Lyrics like “They didn’t give a fuck when we was sleeping outside, now when I do a show I got them waiting outside,” stress the underlying feelings of victory through struggle.
Familiar tracks in “Heart” and “Lil Whore,” produced by Leesta and Tadoe Hill respectively round out the remaining EP. The former, another anthemic love ballad, and the latter, the notorious spur-of-the-moment freestyle grilling of contemporaries Smokeasac and Fat Nick.
This collection of songs is at heart a commentary on Tracy’s life and the chaos following the loss of a dear friend. At times, it is shocking in it’s blunt assessment of the situation. Yet, It is uniquely refreshing to hear him centered around an idea for almost an entire project. It’s clear Tracy has been through hell, and SINNER is the story of his journey.