In a hazily shot YouTube video, Brandon MaCartney sits at a table after shooting footage for an upcoming project. “My music is love, man”, he says to the camera, as two scantily clad women duck in and out of the room. The music video for “Wonton Soup” may have been recorded over 10 years ago, but it is an important example. It reminds us that irony and internet humor are crucial instruments. And some musicians value them more than the guitar or drums. 

 

Born in a poor Berkeley neighborhood, Brandon McCartney aka Lil B is something of a historian. Beginning with his hometown hero rap group The Pack, in 2007, McCartney rose to fame under the Lil B name with a series of internet-released mixtapes, each one more ridiculous than the last. His combination of slow, slurred flows, obscene sense of humor, and undeniable charisma paved the way for a new generation of rap.  Even today, fans and naysayers alike often agree on one thing: He’s a funny guy. This comedic swagger is 100 percent intentional. McCartney is a product of the internet, from MySpace to Twitter. And his workshop of characters, mixtapes, and alternate personas show Gen-Z listeners that irony and enjoyment can go hand in hand. Humor can make music good,  McCartney would show through time that his influence could teach young musicians to transcend joke status, even halfway across the world. 

 

In 2013, childhood friends Jonatan “Yung Lean” Leandoer and Carl-Mikael “Yung Gud” Göran formed the Sadboys music collective. Operating out of a dusty apartment on the busy streets of Stockholm, Sweden, the two friends took influence from internet and classic SoundCloud legends to make several demo tracks, one of which went viral. Ginseng Strip 2002 was an instant marvel on the internet, given the combination of offbeat rapping and oddly entrancing production. This song was the basis of something far greater than Leandoer or Göran could have predicted. 

 

The rapper-producer duo teamed up with former classmates Benjamin “Bladee” Reichwald, Zak “Ecco2k” and Axel “Yung Sherman” Tuffvesson, to form the original 5 man lineup of the Gravity Boys hip hop collective. The original GB music was cold, atmospheric, and heavily manipulated. Great lengths of effort was put into sound design, audio textures, and vocal mixing. But as serene and almost otherworldly as the synth patterns, drum lines, and snares were. The vocals and rapping kept the same uncaring and loose, droning tone that could be seen 5 years earlier in McCartneys music. But this was different. While the music was still definitively underground, it grew into a more niche and stilted style than Lil B’s music ever did. It had genuine fans, but even more genuine haters. The original outbursts came from underground critics, who had much to say about hip hop culture and authenticity. 

 

Admittedly, the original forms of Gravity Boys and other cloud rap music was a bastardization of the sounds that were held in high regard for fans of the genre. Trap beats, lots of sound effects, glitchy sampling, and Autotune. Though only 3 syllables, simply uttering the word is enough to strike fear into the hearts of classical hip hop heads everywhere, and it certainly contributed to the instant controversy that the music received upon release. Despite the small cult following obtained off of the release of the original GTB COMPILATION, the original forms of Swedish cloud rap failed to reach the mainstream, or surpass joke status.

 

A new generation of music listeners and internet users changed this, however. Memes and art became newly interconnected, to the point where browsers would seek out the art ingrained in the same posts they laughed at. This was the beginning of a major shift in career focus for not only Bladee, but his contemporaries in the cloud rap genre. 

 

What felt like a slow and gradual change only took two years. The realization fans and critics had about Bladee’s music was a simple one, but one that contextualized the entire goal of the cloud rap genre that Bladee operated out of. People had begun to view the joking or semi-serious nature of Bladee and his peers as a new beginning for experimental music. Music that had emotional depth and loads of angst, but was self-aware to an extreme level. 

 

Which brings us to Bladee’s latest album. Over the past couple years, Bladee’s music has taken a more philosophical and abstract turn, almost completely abandoning the glitch pop and alternative hip hop roots that brought him out of the ironic hole that he and the rest of the Gravity Boys found themselves in. Using the sounds of softer pop, hyper pop and even alternative rock,  Bladee and his contemporaries created a split between two distinct eras: old generation Gravity Boys, and the new rebranding of the group known as “Drain Gang”.  The songs on Bladee’s recent releases are clearly more thought through, boasting more progressive changes in song structure, technically proficient vocals, and the incorporation of acoustic instruments.

The general alternative music community has accepted Bladee as a force for good. To be frank, he isn’t a joke anymore. But the landscape of music does not function this way. Music with an ironic slant can still be enjoyed in a serious context. Self awareness alone is what makes an artist a joke or a cultural commentator. Not all of Bladee’s hyper-materialistic, drug-filled, rambles are accurate representations of current music culture. But they are within reason. They speak to a certain level of hyperbole that young listeners enjoy and understand. The true nature of Bladee is that he was never a joke, he was just always kidding.