For a while, it seemed like every rapper coming out of the five boroughs was a retro revivalist, tethered to the greats of the past, like a rookie NBA player pulling on the jersey of a legacy team. But young guys like MIKE, Medhane, Adé Hakim (formerly known as Sixpress), and Slauson Malone reside in a New York City where Earl Sweatshirt is a more powerful god than Chuck D. These rappers have run an insurgency campaign on the local scene, contorting elements of classic East Coast hip-hop into their own warped vision for the future.
Enter Caleb Giles. On his third album Under the Shade, the 21-year-old Bronx native engages with some core tenets of the classic New York sound—dusty samples, deep-thinking lyricism, soulful attitude—but with a bitter streak as cold as a winter ride on the top deck of the NYC Ferry. Countering the icy atmospherics, Giles’ flow is clean and youthful, his writing is resonant, and he has a way with a pleasing chorus. It adds up to a set that unites past and present more clearly than any of his contemporaries, adding a distinct ripple to this new surge of regional inventiveness.
Giles’s burgeoning rap career comes with an interesting peg: he also plays saxophone in Standing on the Corner, the jazz ensemble with credits on both Earl and Solange records. Yet Under the Shade never indulges in the freewheeling jazz meditations you might expect. Sure, there’s a decaying old trumpet here, a stoned bassline there. But they help form a neatly clipped set of percolating beats that compliment Giles’s plainspoken flows.
Under the dim light, Giles comes off as a burdened young man. He laments missed opportunities and describes poverty with grim clarity. Rap usually locates poverty comfortably in the past, but Giles wants you to know all about his present-day struggles. On the 50-second “Gather,” he lays out a pretty basic wishlist: He wants a car that runs, to hold down a job, and to simply have $100 in his pocket.
It’s fair to say that Under the Shade is a solid release, not a defining statement. At 24 minutes, it’s over too quickly, with shorter cuts like “Gather” and “Syl’s Song” begging to be developed into full-bodied songs. And as a rapper, Giles lacks a force of personality to match his nuanced lyrics. But Under the Shade excites anyway, another welcome shot in the arm for contemporary New York rap.
