by Dash Lewis (@gardenerjams)
There were early hints that Boldy James and The Alchemist’s collaboration would be special. The duo’s initial project, My 1st Chemistry Set, saw them trying their hand at various sounds, feeling around for the right vibe. More than a cohesive synergetic statement, that album felt like two artists coming out of specific eras of their careers and meeting in the middle. Boldy’s early work swung wildly between extremes. It oscillated from vicious rhyme scheme workouts to glossy, high dollar mixtape anthems that cast him as a traumatized version of Gangsta Grillz-era Jeezy. Meanwhile, Alchemist was morphing his sound from the bouncy New York classicism he explored in the early aughts into a more damaged psychedelia. At first, not everything Boldy and Alc made together completely clicked, but songs like “Moochie” and “Give Me a Reason” hinted at the clenched-jaw tension they’d come to perfect.
With The Price of Tea in China, the duo found their sound. Alc’s spiraling loops smacked against the concrete of Boldy’s vacant stare raps to form a muted hard-boiled noir. It was bleak yet immersive, full of hyper-specific details, gallows humor, and dazzling technical prowess from both artists. Their follow up, 2021’s Bo Jackson, pushed the duo’s more menacing aspects to the fore. Rather than the winter trudge of TPOT, Alc set his production at a rolling boil, always threatening to overflow. Boldy in turn picked up the pace a little, his usually detached monotone sounding a bit more invigorated. Their latest, Super Tecmo Bo, finds the duo experimenting within their paradigm without sacrificing any of their solidified chemistry. It’s a more relaxed affair that has the two rap auteurs honing in on and chipping away at specific aspects of their skill sets.
Sonically, Tecmo is quite breezy. Rather than the ominous drones and staccato piano stabs of the last two records, Tecmo opts for gooey, CBD-gummy loops of muzak saxophones and lounge band basslines. Alchemist composes with restraint, giving every element of his beats a bubble of personal space. Strings, synth lines, and muffled percussion ooze through the mix without crowding out any other element. Even tracks that feature harder, more crackling drums like “Francois” and “Moth in the Flame” still feature samples smeared by a gaussian blur. Much like 2020’s sepia-toned The Versace Tape, Super Tecmo Bo’s production matches Boldy’s blunted delivery, creating a fully hypnotic listening experience.
The hazier quality of Alc’s beats leads Boldy further into his memory bank than on previous records. TPOT and Bo were both rife with paranoia, an eagle-eyed Boldy surveying every inch of his surroundings, confirming all escape routes before entering a room. On Tecmo, Boldy’s somewhere far away from the frigid and pockmarked Detroit corners, grateful to be combing through these fragmented recollections rather than being “the man from [his] dark past.” He’s older and wiser now, paging through harrowing stories of days gone by that culminate in combat advice: “don’t be scared to be last to shoot, just don’t be the first one to miss.”
Here, the previous records’ hyper-detailed descriptions of stash houses and hot corners become intimate portraits of the people that haunt them. Swally, the trusted sidekick in “Hot Water Tank,” becomes a heroin addict in “Francois,” turning his gun on a mutual friend. The circumstances around the death of someone named Dave appear in a couple songs, the trauma still bubbling up in Boldy’s subconscious. Other characters take charges for the team, lift up their shirts to expose bullet scars, and keep mirrors in their back pockets to perfect their mean mug. It all adds up to a humanizing vulnerability throughout the album, showing a glimmer of sadness behind Boldy’s steely gaze.
At this point in their partnership, it’s clear that Boldy and Alc trust each other’s artistic choices. When Alc modulates the beat for “300 Fences” up a half step in the song’s final third, Boldy responds by kicking his storytelling into white-knuckle territory. His not-quite double time flow on “Guilt” both ignores and embraces the laconic string sample, letting Alc strategically employ filter sweeps to boost Boldy’s merciless boasts. If anything, Tecmo proves that these two were made to collaborate. Boldy, eager to further prove he can rap on anything, easily floats over the weirdest Alchemist beats since Haram. The duo’s already incredible run will only get more interesting from here.