Same Drugs

I’ve been a fan of Chance the Rapper since he released his first mixtape, 2012’s 10 Day, which he recorded during a ten-day high school suspension for smoking pot. I was even more impressed by his second album, Acid Rap, which layered together a larger array of samples, live instruments, and voices, creating a constantly-shifting texture under Chance’s thoughtfully penned lines.

Though Kanye and Jay-Z took Chance under their wing, and though he toured as opener for Childish Gambino, he never signed with a label, and has repeatedly committed to releasing his music for free online.  So while Chance’s first two mix tapes were heavily listened to online, they never qualified for Grammy consideration, as the National Academy of Recording Arts and Sciences only recognizes music “commercially released in general distribution in the United States, i.e. sales by label to a branch or recognized independent distributor, via the Internet, or mail order/retail sales for a nationally marketed product.”

As a result, Chance’s free releases didn’t make the cut.  Which led to some serious grumbling in the music press; by broad consensus, Acid Rap was certainly good enough to warrant nomination.

Earlier this year, Chance released his third mixtape, Coloring Book. And this time, he put it up initially as an exclusive on Apple Music (though it’s now also online, per usual, for free).  This, too, probably falls short of the official Grammy requirements, though after a broadly-circulated online petition supporting streaming music’s inclusion hit 35,000 signatures, the NARAS is apparently reviewing an update to the language of the rules, which would push Chance (and a slew of other new, worthy contenders) into the mix.

Here’s a quick taste of Coloring Book, “Same Drugs”:

Chance sings on this one, rather than just rapping, with layers of gospel and electronica weaving their way through the background.  The song is about change over time, about how Chance has drifted away from ‘Wendy,’ who could be either (or both) his daughter’s mother or the city of Chicago (with Wendy a play on ‘windy’).

Throughout, Chance riffs off the Wendy name, weaving in elegiac references to Peter Pan:

When did you change?
Wendy, you’ve aged
I thought you’d never grow up
I thought you’d never…
Window closed, Wendy got old
I was too late, I was too late
A shadow of what I once was

or

Don’t forget the happy thoughts
All you need is happy thoughts
The past tense, past bed time
Way back then when everything we read was real
And everything we said rhymed
Wide eyed kids being kids
Why did you stop?
What did you do to your hair?
Where did you go to end up right back here?
When did you start to forget how to fly?

It’s a great song.  And the whole album is certainly worth the listen.  But, more broadly, let’s hope the Grammys catch up to 2016, and start allowing streaming music in for contention.  It would be wonderful to see the best up-and-coming artists (rather than just the same major label acts, year-in and year-out) get the recognition they deserve.