Brockhampton is going to be big. If you haven’t heard of them yet, don’t worry. You’ll know them within the next year. But I would recommend listening to them before everyone starts bandwagoning, because you’ll never get to hear them in this state again.

Actually, it’s rare that we get to see any new artist in this state, especially one as independent as Brockhampton. The expansive group writes, produces, and distributes their music by themselves out of a house in South L.A. Not since Odd Future have we seen a group this young and talented doing everything on their own, on the verge of blowing up and becoming a mainstream name.

But, unlike Odd Future, this group doesn’t just have a few standout talents. Rather, every member is talented and, for the most part, has their own unique personality and voice.

Also unlike Odd Future, their lyrics are less concerned with carnage and more occupied with themes such as staying true to yourself and exercising self-love. It never get corny, but they tend to lose me with these themes, as I prefer Odd Future’s horrorcore stylings.

Regardless, I love this group and I’m beyond excited to be witnessing them at this time in their career. And I was just as excited to find that their sophomore album, Saturation 2, is better than their debut released just a couple months prior.

While the first album was an effective sampler of the group’s sound, I found that it failed to achieve a sense of cohesiveness and bite. Nothing tied the songs together, and many tracks were unmemorable and didn’t showcase enough personality. Their potential was evident, but I feared they would never be able to live up to it.

But when Saturation 2 dropped, I was pleasantly surprised to find the group did not validate my fears. This album is far more consistent, intense, and personality-driven than their prior effort.

Here, we see every member of the group begin to blossom. Kevin Abstract, the de facto leader and voice of the collective, spits simultaneously braggadocious and socially-conscious bars on the song “Junky” about his place in hip-hop as an openly gay man, in what is probably the album’s standout verse and probably the best verse of the year so far. I used to see Abstract as more skilled with hooks and melodies than with spitting fire verses, but he made me rethink that designation on this album.

A lot of the verses on this album are conscious, but the group avoids doing this in an overbearing, preachy way thanks to their ability to balance it out with tracks that showcase more humor.  

The best example comes from Ameer Vann, who raps on “Fight,”  “And when I grew up I learned what racism was/And what teaching it does/And like my teachers would say/”Little black boys have a place in the world”/Like hanging from trees/Or dead in the street like I seen on TV/All them boys they killed, they looked just like me.”

Vann’s delivery here is cool and calculated (straying from his tendency to be more angry and violent), but still impassioned enough to take him seriously. Each rapper’s individual deliveries on this album are one of its best components.

Merlyn Wood comes through with the wildest, most unhinged rap vocals since Danny Brown exploded onto the scene. Matt Champion provides smooth, womanizing flows and JOBA comes into his own as a rapper for the first time. But my personal favorite, and in my opinion the best rapper of them all, is Vann. Vann’s voice is bloodthirsty and powerful; he exerts such a ruthless, strong command of the mic that at times you think he’s going to climb out of your speakers and strangle you. And his delivery isn’t solely dependent on energy either. He litters his bars with dense internal rhymes and tight flows. Abstract is getting a lot of attention from the media, and although I love him, I think Vann might be rap’s latest prodigy.

I mentioned before that, in the past, my enjoyment of Brockhampton has been slightly deterred by their positivity and lack of menace, but it’s almost like they read my mind because there are portions of this record where they sound like they’re out to kill, and I love it. Yes, the self-love stuff is still present, but it’s well-balanced with tracks like “Gummy,” where Abstract channels his Tarantino influences in a belligerent but tasteful display of outlaw behavior.

I’d like to add that the music video for “Gummy” is my favorite of the year, next to Danny Brown’s “Ain’t It Funny” video. The video is heavily influenced by Tarantino’s Reservoir Dogs, and follows Abstract, Vann, Wood, and Champion rapping in their getaway car immediately after robbing a bank. With plots like this, you’d think they’d be prone to slipping into gangsta rap cliches, but they keep it wholly original with their unique aesthetic.

The instrumental on this track is also great, with menacing g-funk synths and equally funky electric guitar lines. In fact, the instrumentals on this album are just as memorable as the lyrics. Their production ranges from brash, hard-hitting, and percussion-led, to smooth and airy. And the range of instruments they use is insane. How many times have you heard a rap song with a sitar in it, like on “Fight?”

The record is not without its faults, although they crop up a lot less frequently than they did on their debut. The group still tends to slip into the trap of including one too many filler tracks, and their obsession with pitch-shifted vocals gets very grating after awhile.

Altogether, the slight skepticism I felt towards Brockhampton has been completely shattered after listening to this album. The lyricism is more engaging, the deliveries are standouts, the production is varied, and the sound is overall more consistent than before.

The group still has some growing to do, but that’s the beauty of them at the moment. They’re rapidly rising to the top of their game, and being in that state has led to some of the weirdest rap music of the year, produced with a cheeky devil-may-care attitude that makes for a listening experience like never before. Listen to them before everyone else is. You won’t regret it.

Grade: A-