Cordae, Hip-Hop’s Proverbial Little Brother No Longer, is Gunning for the Throne ‘From A Bird’s Eye View’
Evan Dale // Jan 30, 2022
From way, way up Cordae’s lyrical prowess was sent. A rapper of course, a poet sure, but a freak, really, when it comes to the pen, the impossibly young old soul with a timeless flow and a larger-than-life chip on his shoulder has been making waves across music since he first appeared with what were then teenage freestyles bleeding of more fervent fire and adherence to intent than nearly all of those at the time claiming their spots amongst the most dominant wordsmiths in the game. With 2019’s The Lost Boy – his solo debut for the first time removed from his internet clique, YBN – he was out to make a point. He did. And now, From A Bird’s Eye View, he’s out for blood.
The lyricism has always been there, leaving him a standout prodigy of sorts amongst a still young but hardened elder generation of rappers whose strongest pillar, too, is that of the poetry in rap. The flow has always been fast-paced, but well-curated to adjust its tempo along with – or in spite of – the beat, effortlessly emerging with the sonic confidence of a veteran who has been doing it for longer than Cordae has been alive. The vocalism has always been noteworthy, taking on the vulnerability of sing-songy choruses that do more than suffice a melody, but stand shoulder to shoulder with the smattering of R&B singers he collaborates with. And, the collaborative gusto will always be rooted in YBN, but now leads him to cleverly and seamlessly fold in the sounds and sayings from many of modernity’s most influential artists spanning production, vocals, and rap. And yet, in 2022 more than ever in his youthful career, the signature – the special something that has always made Cordae more than a name to watch, but a name to respect – is sharpened, refined to a point that proves him adept at delivering verses and hooks across any kind of subgenrificated hip-hop subset with as much – and often with more – innate ubiquity than anyone else across the rapscape.
Referencing the masterpiece that was Cruel Summer and the socio-environmental mistake that was the Hummer era like something rooted in antiquity, a track like C Carter is – first, incredible, immersively delineated with anecdotal recounts on a past that got him here, and secondly – an inadvertent nod to his age. It’s something at the core of many conversations about Cordae, and that’s natural. He’s 24 and raps with the swagger and intensity of those that were modernizing the game before his birth year, 1997. He also has the range to merge that raw rap ability with a modern touch that leaves him standing amongst very few if any hip-hop artists these days that can boast the long-legged and refined skillset he has.
The proverbial little brother of hip-hop for a few years at this point, willingly taking on the humor in that role with singles and videos like RNP featuring Anderson .Paak, his has been a playful position in the scene. Big Play Cordae was certainly a vibe – as was Sweet Shot Anderson – but the fun-loving little brother nature that defined what was his coming of age tale in The Lost Boy, has been placed in the archives. For that, age need not be in the conversation any longer. From A Bird’s Eye View, things look – and sound – a little different.
There was certainly a void left where The Lost Boy stood, shining as an immaculate rap performance from a newcomer turned overnight sensation who then spent years away from the release schedule working on his next deliverable. But time well spent as he emerges matured, refined, and sharpened. There has always been a need for Cordae to ditch the niceties and really attack his sound by sourcing his roots and the root of his unparalleled talent, and rapping not only hard but with a brutal honesty that allows him to escape the youthful stance that his has been. From A Bird’s Eye View not only nods to the high position from where it is that he’s looking down at the rest of hip-hop, but also from where it is that he also looks at a path towards his own roots, and separately the roots of many of those both rapping today and listening to it. Through the project, there’s a rightful smear campaign against the suburbs, and it sings of a necessary authenticity, calling out his hip-hop compatriots and subversively downplaying the space from where many are listening. Instead of making the happy-go-lucky, immersive flavor of Lost Boy hip-hop, telling the story of his youth from a youthful lense, From A Bird’s Eye View harps on a more mature, hardened storyline – with more hard-nosed raps – and any true fan listening will find that even more engaging.
This ain’t rap music, this straight literature.
From his newfound role in hip-hop not as its Petit Prince, but as a legitimate threat to the crown, he has seemingly earned an even deeper layer of respect. Calling into featuring roles name after name of those that wore the crown before him (or do so to this day), Cordae shares the stage with Eminem, Lil Wayne, and Freddie Gibbs, never bowing to their own relative greatness, but exhibiting his own prose and poeticism alongside theirs. All feel like moments where the torch is beyond handed over. And beyond collaborations with some of the best living wordsmiths to ever do it, he also folds in the respect and soulful genius of Stevie Wonder and H.E.R.; the high-energy and hype of Lil Durk and Gunna. His is a point of connectivity between both genre and epoch because his is a point of truly generational genius and leadership.
To date, From A Bird’s Eye View is Cordae’s thesis not only on where he’s been, but where he’s currently sitting and where he’s headed. Hint: he’s headed up, and this, his sophomore album will always be a marker, albeit certainly not his last masterpiece. Watch the throne, kid.