The idea of what we now call the "microgenre" came about in the 1970s, when groups of people came together to create music that was the antithesis of whatever was the mainstream at the time. In the case of the seventies, that mainstream was rock and its antithesis was punk. The best way to describe punk's origins is as an aggressive, postmodern, rejection of the psychedelia that latched onto rock through the 60s with the likes of The Beatles and Jimi Hendrix. Nowadays, it isn't recognised just one of the most widely known microgenres, but one of the most influential in music history. In a retrospective article looking back on the punk movement as a whole, Pitchfork described the movement as "loud, fast and simple". A genre built in the garage by those who rejected "the idea that you had to know how to play an instrument before you could start a band", creating not just their own genre but the attitude and style to match.
As we fast-forward a few decades to an era where music is more accessible than ever and attention spans are down, it's crucial for artists new and old to innovate; creating microgenres of their own to stay relevant and, more importantly, memorable. In the 2000's this included artists like Bjork, Gorillaz and Outkast all sharing that carnal rejection of a singular genre to create their own musical environment. Doing so by either combining genres, creating their own or bending existing genres to their will. In 2018, where rap has hit the masses, surpassing rock and becoming the chart topping genre of the now - microgenre isn't just a sign of innovation, but a means of survival.
As the genre gradually begins to find new rising stars - widespread virality seemingly becomes the deciding factor in who gets the limelight. While there are countless examples of this, with over 8000 artists on Spotify with the word "Lil" before their name, the most prominent comes in the form of 15 year old Danielle Bregoli A.K.A Bhad Bhabie. After becoming a viral sensation for her irresponsibly rude, cringe-inducing 2017 appearance on America's Dr Phil. Shortly after, Bregoli launched a rap career as Bhad Bhabie; now sporting collaborations with artists like Ty Dolla Sign, Lil Yatchy and producer Ronny J alongside a North American tour.
In the same year, however we also saw new rap artists that continued to work with microgenre as their past inspirations had done, in particular the Texan rap group, BROCKHAMPTON. In creating a trilogy of albums that evoked a sonic midpoint between the aggressive brashness of rap collectives like the Wu-Tang Clan and the sensitivity of a pop boyband like One Direction (both of whom are cited as influences by the self-acclaimed 'boyband'), they didn't just make a name for themselves, but found a circle that a band only as open, inclusive and close-knit as them could operate in.
We're now in 2018, where rap is so accessible to the point that it's inescapable - whether it's the film you're watching, the tune you're listening to on the radio or even the adverts slathered on your Spotify homepage. This popularity feels like a gargantuan snowball in a play park, constantly gaining weight and only taking a certain energy and abrasiveness to break it down to its minimum and, against all odds, Playboi Carti's Die Lit was the album to do so.
In 2013, Kanye West infamously said "Rap the new rock 'n roll. We culture. Rap is the new rock 'n roll. We the rockstars". The comment, made in the same year that saw rock releases from Vampire Weekend, Arcade Fire and Sunbather, angered rock fans. However, just five years later, when Carti said in an interview with Dazed that "we are ourselves, we're just modern-day rockstars", it seems a lot more plausible. Carti's love for punk is no secret, it's plastered all over Die Lit; from the brash, minimalistic production to its energetic, animated cover art. It's an album that's able to muster the polarising familiarity of the 'mumble rap' genre, but injecting it with the energy of a punk album.
While Die Lit is a testament to punk's sound, Carti's roots in the punk persona can be traced back to the music videos that accompanied his self-titled album in 2017. In the first half of the video for Magnolia, Carti isn't seen flaunting chains, grills or ludicrously expensive watches but rather dancing with an umbrella in his hand and getting a haircut at a local barbershop with A$AP Rocky in the background. He understands that we as an audience are tired of seeing the same ordinary visual of a rapper riding around in the same expensive car, wearing the same expensive clothing and flexing the same expensive jewellery, so he chooses to reject this ordinary to give us something new. A similar point could be made for his video for wokeuplikethis*, taking place in a prison, rather than a more stylish mansion or club. The video's only signs of bravado and luxury are shown in what appears a dream sequence as Lil Uzi Vert takes centre stage for his verse in the song.
Before you even get to listen to Die Lit, the first thing you see is it's cover art. Taken by Nick Walker, it depicts Carti mid-somersault, dual-wielding middle fingers before he crashes into a sea of fans clad in studded leather jackets, tank tees and one even rocking an unmissable mohawk, all in an intense claustrophobic setting. The photograph is radiant with energy, more specifically the type that anyone who has ever been to a crazy club, concert or rave can resonate with. Walker told Pigeons & Planes that the photo was "guided by feeling more than anything", calling Die Lit "a raw, stripped down album that takes the traditional idea of hiphop and stretches it in new directions". If you didn't already guess from the mohicans, monochrome and moshpits; the cover was based around a reference photo from a punk show, Walker justified the choice in saying "so many hip hop shows now have that energy from punk shows back in the day" and, there's no denying he's right. Headline rappers like Carti, Travis Scott, and Denzel Curry all have live shows that thrive off the hype of the crowds to their most energetic songs. Scott has even branded his fans "ragers", inviting them to crowdsurf, moshpit and in many cases stagedive. All of these moments make it to YouTube in whole compilations of "LIT LIVE SHOWS 2018" that garner millions of views on the site.
Die Lit itself as an album doesn't simply dedicate itself to a party atmosphere, but takes a somewhat more eclectic approach, going from grimy bass-ridden tunes like R.I.P and Love Hurts to lighter tracks like Fell In Luv. In his choice of collaboratorts, Carti gets that a great party is only as good as its guests. While his self-titled album only featured three other rappers, notably A$AP Rocky on New Choppa, this one features eleven different appearances, selected not on the basis of popularity but the vibe they can bring to a project like Die Lit. Featured rappers like Skepta, Nicki Minaj, Gunna, Chief Keef and even Young Thug are already known for their punchy discographies and when combined with the explosiveness of Die Lit outputs some of Carti's best work. However, as star-studded as Die Lit is, Carti also allows for lesser known names to grab the mic like Red Coldhearted and Young Nudy.
For production, the majority of the album, with the exception of four tracks, is produced by hitmaker Pi'erre Bourne. The name will ring familiar to Carti fans as Bourne was responsible for the beat behind his breakout track Magnolia. With Bourne working alongside many new faces in the rap genre from Trippie Redd to 21 Savage and known for his memorable, if minimalistic, beats that glitter with that quintessential party vibe. Bourne's work on the album is able to shift sounds throughout the album without becoming too distant from it's M.O, understanding Carti, his collaborators and what they bring to a track all to make a beat work for them - making sure no features are left out.
Like most artists in the mumble rap genre, there is widespread criticism of Carti based on his attitude to lyricis. It's hard not to disagree when listening specifically to the lyrics of Die Lit; mostly basing itself around hooks and repetition that work well when singing along in a live show, but not so much consciously in one's bedroom on headphones. Carti's aware that he's no Kendrick, Cole or Sweatshirt, he doesn't particularly need lyrics for his tracks to fulfil their purpose, however one moment in R.I.P does show that he knows how to write lyrics that leave room for thought. This is during the song's breakdown where he chants "F**k that mumblin' sh*t / Bought that crib for my mama off that mumblin' sh*t / Made a mil' off that, uh /Off that mumblin' sh*t". With this line, he stands against his critics who may laugh and shrug off his "mumblin' sh*t" in favour for so-called "real rap", but subtly reminds them that their words don't change the fact he's making the same money, if not more, as other rappers in the game, even highlighting his humble use of it to buy his mum a house in a way that sounds less braggadocio, but more punk-infused Robin Hood.
Overall, Carti, his punk influence and his music's stripped-down minimalism make him a standout in the new generation of rap. Nowadays it's easy for clout, chains and connections to overtake true thought and talent - two qualities needed to speak out in this era of MeToo, fake news and controversial politics. Although much like the punks that came before him - Carti and whoever's listening reject this ensuing cultural fear, channeling, morphing and containing it into a huge ball of energy that explodes as soon as you hit the play button on Die Lit, continuing to burn for 57 minutes. It's in that time that you realise Die Lit isn't an album to be critiqued, analysed or discussed - but raved to.