by Taylor Ruckle (@TaylorRuckle)
On “Summer of ‘18,” the catchiest track from Ty Sorrell’s new LP HomeGrown, the Richmond rapper/producer lays out a pre-COVID flashback with a mouth-watering spread: “glizzies and two dollar cups of lemonade, the crawfish and lemon pepper wangs” float by on sparkle-filtered electric pianos, chimes, and keyboard bass. It’s the most classically southern of Sorrell’s contributions to the food rap canon–their formal introduction to the Richmond scene came with 2019’s Chai EP, followed a year later by the candy-wrapper-coated Fast Food–and sitting early in the track list, it serves as an appetizer sampler for a fun and filling record loosely conceived as a diner jukebox playlist.
Most of the time that’s purely metaphysical; there are as many lines about carrots, kale, and other smoothie ingredients as diner staples, and there’s not much conceptual structure outside its “Oops! All bangers” ethos (though Sorrell does signal the end of the record by asking for the check on “Dixie Cups”). It’s more that the record’s easygoing and nostalgic pop/R&B vibes call up the feeling of leaning back in an air-conditioned booth on a humid summer night. If you stop and listen, you can overhear Sorrell at the next table over, reminiscing (“Remember that? Remember us?”) and exchanging secret handshakes with the other Richmonders who sit down to catch up.
That includes tight, well-rapped verses full of references to their Tribe 95 collective and features from local stars of Richmond’s vibrant Black and Queer musical underground. Singer/songwriter Benét takes a melodious verse on “Ain’t Nobody Here,” and long-time collaborator Rob Gibsun passes through on “AF1s” to talk mass incarceration and the commodification of Black culture. As producer, Sorrell excels at highlighting their friends’ talents, arranging guests like chairs at a potluck table. Call it southern hospitality–just don’t call it country, as Sorrell explains on the opener “Mako,” welcoming the listener to the get-together between soulful hooks from Aquabot (also of Cardinality), mellow keys, and shakers like chirping crickets.
I keep coming back to the lemon pepper wings, partly because hearing HomeGrown for the first time gave me such a deep craving, I had to make myself a batch within the week. It also goes to show that a good chorus or a groovy flute loop (“Room 95”), like a good meal, satisfies differently from the universal level down to the hyperlocal. A summer jam can be as nourishing in and of itself as a plate of chicken and rice, and the way Ty Sorrell cooks them up, anyone willing to dig in can find something to enjoy. They’ll also challenge you to understand that what you get from a song isn’t always what they get from it (“We might’a seen the same places, you ain’t have the same trip,” Sorrell raps on “Same Colors”).
Not every listener will pick up the nuanced flavors of Ty Sorrell’s local fare, but what always comes through is a contagious affection for those who see the city the way they do, from the seat of their ‘99 Accord–hopeful in spite of how harsh it can be. Even warmer than the weather and the wings is the playful way their voice slides through “I ain’t forgot, boy,” and the conspiratorial encouragement they pass on, along with some liquor, in “Summer of ‘18”: “You trusted in yourself, and all the ones that’s close near ya / You a real one, so chin up / we stand on what we’re buildin’.”