As with any essential collective, YSL's hitmaking roster bring different strengths to the table. While close collaborator
Lil Baby stacks emotive bars like trap bric-a-brac, and forefather
Young Thug communicates in sporadic fragments,
Gunna's strength lies in cycling rhymes. His bars, a looping set of mirrored cadences, are locked firmly in pattern with one another, forming somewhat of a vocal chain-link. When placed over trap's rotating instrumentals, the results are hypnotic: king of the vibe,
Gunna's spiraling approach provides infectious choruses and spaced-out anthems in equal measure.
WUNNA, the rapper's second studio album, is dedicated almost entirely to this style. Pulling more from the hazy ethos of his 2019 output than the rough-and-ready approach of the early
Drip Season tapes,
WUNNA embraces this hazy, looping direction in its entirety, lacing the Atlanta star's words with subdued yet layered production. The result is a project that feels thoroughly cohesive; though the insular plucks of "Do Better" remain distinct from the marching swing of "Top Floor," both are anchored in
Gunna's unwavering voice.
This universal style is the source of both
WUNNA's highs and lows. Melding this signature framework with alternate ideas produces some of the rapper's best tracks to date: "Rockstar Bikers & Chains" ramps up the braggadocio, "Dollaz on My Head" is an excellent YSL back-to-back, and "Feigning" fuses aggro and melody to perfection. Alongside solid contributions from
Travis Scott and
Thugger, we're given another superb
Baby/
Gunna cut, too; "You can hear the money in my voice," snarls
Gunna's Atlanta compatriot over "Blindfold," flowing with confidence over Wheezy's steady tempo. Yet
WUNNA's momentum soon dissipates. While the album's 18-track lineup is a surefire bolster to sales, it adds little to the project's quality, tacking a limp collection of filler onto its confident first half. While "Nasty Girl/On Camera" and "Do Better" offer last-minute highlights,
WUNNA's closing run is generally amorphous; when nothing is contrasted against the rapper's circular rhymes, his bars can become slushy and unfeeling. The resulting product is one in need of quality control. With a tighter track list and greater focus on the promising culminations of the rapper's style, the record would prove a firm career highlight. While
WUNNA deserves points for its cohesiveness and impressive highs, its padding proves its downfall: the album's closing run means it remains a pick-and-mix affair, rather than a definitive statement. ~ David Crone