Max Bell moves in silence.
You know it’s real when you show her where your mom lives. Russ knows this more than most. After a largely transient childhood, his mother’s residence is, understandably, a sensitive subject. For the still unfamiliar, Russ is a rapper/producer of the white, southern fried stock who went left where Yelawolf went major. Rittz may be signed to Strange Music, but Russ is stranger. And while the deleterious double time and bayou twang of the aforementioned slumericans is absent, the same hunger and aggression bubbles beneath his equally manic mane.
Perhaps more important is his pop sensibility, as preternatural as it is gleaned from The Beatles, Eminem, and 50 Cent. (See his interview with our EIC for more.) In other words, the current Georgia resident has hooks like Kareem, Hakeem, and three-rings era Shaq. So it goes when you write them before your verses.
Russ’ last effort, the fourteen-track Silence, was released in June. It could’ve benefitted from more careful curation, but that’s the case for nearly every artist under 25 with a Soundcloud profile. Still, even Russ’ missteps are more fun, interesting, and innovative than the ‘90s genuflection prevalent among his peers. Unlike previous efforts, here his voice has been choked by blunt smoke and ripped with a razor’s edge. It’s raw and rugged, with a visceral immediacy that cuts through every beat like 100 proof through a chaser.
“Boomerang” is Russ’ latest self-produced loosie, as good as the best songs from Silence. Keyboard chords, snaps, and drums are minimal. It smacks less of Mustard and more of Ty$’s “4 A Young,” albeit more emotive and stripped down.
Built around its titular metaphor, the lyrics deal in love lost and love found again. There is a moment where his witty wordplay seems to borrow from Chance the Rapper, but it’s most likely unintentional. Russ is an original, and few are capable of turning Pretty Ricky lyrics into a poignant coda.
Several more of Russ’ recent efforts are below the jump. Personal favorites include “The King” and “Comin Thru.” Think Drake if he were earnest, a more melodic Slug sans backpacker bars.
For now, it’s too early to call. But if I’m being honest, Russ has star potential, the edgy hippy heartthrob motif — just look at all the girls in the front row. The majors will circle. It’s not an if, but a when. They may be knocking on his mom’s door now. Even if Russ passes on them today, they’ll probably come back around.
