Any way you slice it, French Montana is poised to end 2012 as one of the year's hottest rappers. (See "Pop That", the etymology of "fanute," "Stay Schemin'", sharing his "Versace silk swag" with the offices of GQ.) But I still have no idea what a great French Montana song sounds like. Don't get me wrong, I'm responsible for more than a few of the 25 million YouTube views granted to "Pop That". But much like his mentor Max B, French Montana's qualities as a rapper-- a marble-mouthed, sing-song flow that toggles between clear-eyed observation and heavy-lidded confession-- hardly translate on paper or in a boardroom. At this point he has more record deals than actual records, so the question remains: "What do you do with this guy?" Mac & Cheese 3 is French Montana's most high-profile mixtape to date and proof that no one else really seems to know the answer.
Or, that the answer is "everything." The roster of Mac & Cheese 3 is astounding on multiple levels, the first of which is that it would be utterly absurd even on a record that needed to justify the $9.99 expenditure. It might be the most heavily A&R'ed mixtape ever made. There really is no precedent for this mumble-goes-mainstream sort of blockbuster, at least not until the Duplass brothers get to direct the next Die Hard movie or something. What really stands out above all is how it assumes that French Montana is either the most malleable rapper alive or that he simply does not matter.
Witness him trading bars with past-their-prime NYC rappers like Fat Joe, Prodigy, and Fabolous, who says "teach me how to Douglas" on "Dance Move", an event that should not go undocumented. Or, maybe he's more of a XXL Freshman 10 type, so here's some Mac Miller, Tyga, and Wale features! Or, hey, we're getting the Bad Boy band back together! Not quite, Diddy and Ma$e show up separately and the latter appears promising to bring you "soup and orange juice if you’re really sick" on a track that borders on condoning sexual assault ("Grownups"). Another event that should not go undocumented. Or maybe French is a Slip-N-Slide rapper! Rick Ross would've shown up regardless, but Trina ends up stealing the show on "Tic Toc", partly because she contributes an awesome verse, partly because she adds contrast to a mixtape whose depressing sexual politics suggests that "Pop That"'s views on women were its biggest selling point.
"Ocho Cinco" sets the tone in terms of its features and its deadening misogyny. The second track on Mac & Cheese 3 features the following: perpetually ignored NYC mixtape space-filler Red Café, Everlast/Yelawolf hybrid MGK, Chief Keef producer Young Chop, and Diddy, who has apparently signed several of these guys. What exactly could unify this crew? Here's the group chant of a hook: "Told that bitch give me head, Ocho Cinco!" I mean, I've heard worse and having seen just enough SportsCenter and Real Housewives of Atlanta, I get the joke. It's still a joke that uses an episode of domestic violence as a means of demanding oral sex. "Ocho Cinco" is then followed by a skit which is 30 seconds of minor variations on threats to "beat my baby moms up" for listening to a French Montana tape. Needless to say, it's played for laughs.
Weirdly, through all of this, French remains kinda likeable if not remotely admirable. For all of its repulsiveness, "Pop That" felt more like the talk of a high school locker room than a conversation between high rollers in bottle service and, at its best, Mac & Cheese 3 retains that giddy vulgarity. Though he's obviously a spiritual descendent of Max B, I tend to hear Gucci Mane in how his slack delivery can obscure his clever wordplay or Noreaga in that his generally knucklehead demeanor can make the occasional but very real instances of resonance feel like they've been created against their own will.
And you have to at least appreciate the wealth of production here. Harry Fraud gave French his first solo hit ("Shot Caller") and is something of a kindred spirit in that he's a similarly hot name without an identifiable "trick." On Mac & Cheese 3, his uptempo, soul-infused beats prove to be complementary, utilizing recognizable samples ranging from Florence & the Machine ("Intro") to the original source material of Jay-Z's "D'evils" ("State of Mind") and Ice Cube's "Today Was a Good Day" ("Triple Double"). But once again, overzealous matchmaking sinks Mac & Cheese; access to a couple of Young Chop beats would be an unquestionable coup for French Montana if he actually sounded at home on them. As is, it's strange to hear a grown man following what were likely instructions to sound as much like Chief Keef as possible, and the only real difference between "Love Sosa" and "Devil Want My Soul" is that the latter is a minute and a half longer.
And trust, Mac & Cheese 3 did not need any sort of extra padding. If its fantasy football approach to team building is a remnant of the cash-flush late 90s, its CD-maxing length is as well, yet Mac & Cheese 3 never settles into a groove. French Montana simply blends in and is only as entertaining as his surroundings. When J. Cole turns up with a surprisingly slick verse and Rick Ross demands that his kids see him buried like a pharaoh, "Diamonds" makes the ridiculous enterprise seem worthwhile. When immeasurably duller guys like Ace Hood and Chinx Drugs and Mac Miller show up, Mac & Cheese 3 feels like it might never end. Even after spending more than an hour with a French Montana mixtape, you get no closer to figuring out what to do with him. It's appropriate he's so closely associated with a made up word-- like "fanute" French remains ill-defined, and you sorta just know when it's being used correctly.
