If there's been one constant in life since late 2011, when DJ Mustard got his big break via Tyga's sneaky crossover "Rack City", it's the comforting radio omnipresence of Mustard's sparse slaps and '90s-nodding ratchet&B. But four years may as well be 40, and the Mustardwave has long since crested. While the sound he pioneered has lingered well past the average trend life-cycle, "ratchet" as a buzzword has all but gone the way of the dodo; even the @DennysDiner social team has moved on to fleeker pastures.
If Mustard's latest full-length, 10 Summers: The Mixtape Vol. 1, sounds familiar, it's because it shares a title with his 2014 debut album. It's also because you've heard approximations of all these songs before, over and over, everywhere you go, for years. The central conceit of this mixtape series is that Mustard's dominance will ride out for a full decade, and if anyone could pull off that kind of endurance feat, it's the Dijon Don. But that claim's starting to feel like an empty gesture, even if it's not entirely unfeasible; does anyone really need that much Mustard on the beat?
To be fair, Mustardwave hitting critical mass was spurred on by opportunistic imitators as much as the producer himself. Aside from Omarion's still-buzzing 2014 single "Post to Be", the most Mustard-y Top 40 single right now is Jidenna's "Classic Man", which isn't actually his production at all: it's built around a sample from Iggy's "Fancy", the most high-profile, blatant Mustard rip-off to date. In other words, it's become impossible to tell the simulacra from the real deal. The Mustardwave singularity is upon us, and at this point, these beats may as well be self-replicating ad infinitum.
It's not that 10 Summers isn't good, per se. While it's significantly less star-studded than last year's album, and less explosive than 2013's well-timed Ketchup tape, the dip in quality isn't all that extreme. Besides, who wants to hate on low-stakes party music? There's no need to overanalyze the tape's 17 passable-to-solid tracks; all you really need to do is dance to them a couple Mangoritas deep in a backyard. But I want to believe Mustard has more up his sleeve than this: slight alterations of the same snaps, single-finger piano prods, and bassy synths, with a corral of just-fine Pushaz Ink rappers passing through. Even longtime muse YG's switched his style up post-My Krazy Life, with the Terrace Martin G-funk of "Twist My Fingaz".
YG doesn't show up at all on 10 Summers; the tape's highest-profile feature is the Game, which speaks volumes about the kinds of half-assed attempts at the zeitgeist here. There are a handful of pretty great guest spots, for what it's worth, mostly from L.A. locals. On "Trippin Off Hoes", Pushaz Ink affiliate and charming dirtbag RJ goes off like a bomb over the beat's guttural growl: "Gettin' rich though! She a trip though! Credit cards with somebody else info!" The track's only two minutes, but it doesn't need to be any longer; it's the type of efficient, mercenarial slapper Mustard redefined. "You Know It", the best rap song here, showcases buzzing Vallejo newcomer Nef the Pharaoh and houses the tape's best one-liner from relative unknown Big Mike: "On my money, I'm a opportunist/ Off my meds, I'm a orthodontist." But most of the project's first two-thirds passes in a forgettable blur, and if the overwhelming sense of facsimile wasn't enough, a rapper named DrakeO—DrakeO!—is prominently featured.
To be fair, Mustard's R&B production has easily outshined his rap production post-My Krazy Life, and 10 Summers is no different. Most of the tracks with any significant replay value here are the loose, wispy cabana R&B jams that comprise the tape's tail end. "Overdose", with TeeFlii, Iamsu!, and Choice, slides into an understated, liquid groove that draws from G-funk, yacht rock, and twinkly early-'00s Nelly ballads. "Ice Cream" channels the new jack slickness of Soul For Real's candy-coated raindrops. It's clear the guy still has ideas, and maybe he's saving the good ones for when the stakes are higher. Last week, he released "Why'd You Call?", a SoundCloud loosie featuring Makonnen and Ty Dolla $ign that exists somewhere between '80s electro and Based World, complete with Diplo-esque EDM breakdown. It's not necessarily the most inspired direction for Mustard, but at least he's venturing out of his comfort zone. That doesn't happen nearly enough on 10 Summers.
