Evan Nabavian owns several Harold’s franchises.
It helps to enumerate the reasons why Freddie Gibbs might be the best rapper alive. He straddles seldom-crossed genre boundaries while pleasing everybody. He channels 2Pac as readily as Trick Daddy or Bone Thugs. When Snoop Dogg freestyled over two Madlib beats, it was an exciting novelty. Meanwhile, Gibbs inscribed his name in the Otis Jackson canon. It’s a challenge to name his last flop—maybe that Statik Selektah EP?—and a high-profile label deal gone sour didn’t set him back a minute. If you’re a good rapper or producer and there’s air in your lungs, recording with Freddie Gibbs is probably on your to-do list.
“My Dope House” with Kaytranada reaches another plateau. Gibbs has shown no reluctance toward singing. ESGN and Baby Face Killa were dotted with melodies, often abetted by familiar crooners like Z-Ro and Kirko Bangz. “Money, Clothes, Hoes (MCH)” happens to be my own personal “We Are The Champions.” But Gibbs really wails on here. His voice shakes on the hook when he contemplates his mortality. His words are the same but his tenor betrays more emotion than usual from a rapper who never smiles in videos. Gibbs made “My Dope House” as if to stomp on today’s trap singers and also to add another specialty to his repertoire. He just doesn’t get tired of being good at things.
