The Underachievers aren’t the type to idle. They’re not patient. Their lines don’t hide within the meditative crawl of their beats, waiting to strike. No, they’re upfront about their craft, wasting no time or space to translate their thoughts to rhyme. They’ll give their introductions a chance to breathe and expand across the background, but otherwise it’s their show. They’ve got a message to paint, and they’re not going to waste the canvas.
Evermore: The Art of Duality is a steady trip, a conscious jog through 60 minutes of two philosophers’ thoughts. While the music around them pumps a druggy grind into their sound, sighing here and sputtering there, The Underachievers keep their pacing constant and efficient. They stick to a formula of four-four trade-offs, never stopping to take in some of that air that the background exhales with every baroque chord and scuzzy hum. It means that Evermore’s pacing never dips—where someone like Kendrick Lamar might let a hook take over or might drift into a contemplative sigh, The Underachievers just trade mics and keep going.
It’s that constant nature that could’ve derailed Evermore; if it hid behind 60 minutes of two rappers stuck on a constant rhythm, Evermore could be a terribly boring affair. The pace they agree on carries an energy, though. There’s no drawls or doting, with The Underachievers’ Issa Gold and AK trading off at a double-time march that gives Evermore a sense of immediacy. That immediacy propels Evermore’s mystical atmosphere, a Gothic kaleidoscope of trap sputters and psychedelic splatters.
But The Art of Duality is just that: a duality. There’s two sides, even at this fixed rhythm, and there’s a choice to be made. On one half, The Underachievers sound optimistic, where the atmosphere sounds a little sunnier and the world is a little brighter. This is the Evermore of preachers and hope, where faith and peace are as real as the city streets. Then there’s another half, where you can surrender to the streets. This is the Evermore of reality, where Issa and AK growl through bangers as they embrace their Brooklyn roots.
It’s the central tenant for the duo, whose strength lies in twos. Just as there’s two sides to every coin, and two rappers to every Underachievers album, there’s always two choices. They never sound like they’re in denial of that either. Evermore’s pessimistic finale sounds just as real as the optimistic psychedelia that introduced it. They’re delivered with just as much gusto, with just as much spitfire articulation and energy.
So while the air thickens between dark and light, Evermore seems to run the line in between. Both sides are just as real for the rappers-cum-philosophers, whose treatise flirts with their world of duality. It’s a treatise they never let up on, presented upfront from a duo of city-born thinkers who fill their canvas to its edges. Their message might not be concise and risks sluggish repetition, but it’s a full piece, splashed into their mesmerizing balance of enlightening hope and an all-too-real grind.
Rating: B+
