With this being the case, it's not hard to see why Summertime '06 is produced the way it is. Joy Division's production had a certain way of making complex arrangements sound bare and skeletal. Vince Staples' album is mastered in a similar way, so that nearly every musical shift sounds like pure darkness. What is hard to see, however, is that most of the album's instrumentals came from No I.D., who also executively produced Summertime '06 in its entirety. No I.D. has gradually moved from the status of Chicago legend to genre-wide fame thanks to his work on Common's Resurrection, and mentoring Kanye West, ultimately being a huge reason why Kanye's early work came out as melodic and soulful as it did. He's always been versatile, but I was concerned when I heard he'd be taking on production duties for our host. Thankfully, there's non of the signature warmth that most of his beats carry, and the album benefits greatly from his change in direction. I know this all probably sounds somewhat familiar, since it's the same route most producers have taken in the post-Mustard, minimalism-heavy landscape of the genre, but No I.D.'s oversight gives Summertime '06 a quality of darkness that can't be pinned down. There's not a moment of warmth, and literally every single song feels like staring into emptiness. Whether or not this is appealing is of course dependent on the listener's taste, but the album accomplishes exactly what it sets out to do, and it's hard for me to see the icy sound as anything other than magnificent. Just know that this isn't a fun album, and even if you try to make it a party, it's not going to work. Summertime '06 just isn't that kind of an album.
But for all this surface coldness, the album isn't exactly depressing, and Vince Staples isn't going through some existential crisis that you might expect. You might not be able to tell by his vocals, but Vince is in there, and he's got things to say. And while the album can't possibly be confused as anything other than hip hop, it's unmistakably punk in spirit. It's a double disc project, and features 20 songs, yet Summertime '06 clocks in at just under an hour. It's hardly the marathon that I initially expected, and Vince shows an obvious distaste for the bullshit that accompanies most rap albums. The song lengths generally max out at around three minutes, and Vince saves no room for rambling and shit-talking. He spits bars at a constant rate, and not one of them is lazy. His words pierce like the production, and ultimately yield some of the best lines you'll hear all year. On "Lift Me Up", the first real song on the album, he raps, "All these white folks chanting when I ask them 'Where my niggas at?'/ Going crazy, got me going crazy, I can't get with that/ Wonder if they know I know they won't go where we kick it at?". The first side of the album contains mostly these type of lines, but Vince opens up to a degree as the album progresses. On "C.N.B.", one of the final songs, he laments, “We gentrified, we victimized, we fighting for survival / No hopes and dreams, just leave us be, we leaning on the bible / They preying on is, praying for a better day tomorrow / Hide the fear behind this here bravado.”
One of the more fascinating storylines to emerge out of the Odd Future saga is how Staples and Earl Sweatshirts have gradually swapped roles from their first collaboration, "epaR." At the time, the 16-year-old Earl was given title of rap messiah while Staples was viewed as a talented loner that lurked in the background. After returning to America, Earl deferred his claim to the throne, and dropped a disappointing debut, possibly due to pressure. He rebounded better than I expected, releasing I Don't Like Shit, I Don't Go Outside with no promotion, proving he works better by himself, without the hindrance of high expectations. Vince Staples, however, has happily taken the spotlight from him. He's progressed with each release, following the path to mainstream success that was set out for his partner. Earl is still the better rapper, but Vince Staples might have a better grasp on crafting music. For example, Summertime '06 isn't the type of album that needs a great single, but Staples provides one anyways. In fact, he delivers two. On "Señorita", he rides the incredibly effective Future hook by flexing different flows while remaining calm on the surface. It avoids becoming dull, and you can feel each of Vince's words as the track leads up to a death. On "Get Paid", Staples bring more emotion than you'd expect, but it's hardly due to glee. He makes money and women seem as elusive and cunning as possible, making sure the audience knows that nothing about the song is celebratory. All of this content is fairly typical for gangsta rap singles, but Staples shows he can do it his own way.
The album contains a few clunkers ("Dopeman", "Surf"), but Vince Staples impressively plays to his strengths on Summertime '06. My biggest complaint about Hell Can Wait was that the hooks were dreadful. That's still pretty much the case (very few of the hooks venture too far away from the formula of repeating the song's title over and over), but Summertime '06 might be the least hook-dependent album I've ever heard. There's just no way you're going to delve into this album and be upset over the lack of catchy hooks. Hell, I'm surprised Def Jam even let the album see the light of day. It's almost unfathomably bleak, and unlike his peers that have tried this method, Vince offers no resolve, leaving the listener holding on to nothing but darkness. The final song ends with our host being interrupted mid-word by a burst of white noise. And yet, miraculously, the whole damn thing is a relief, because honestly, there's something comforting about a rapper cutting the bullshit and just telling the truth.
Rating: 4/5