Until recently, there wasn't much reason to care about Tyga. The 22-year-old Compton-born MC's biggest claim to fame was that his cousin is that guy Travie McCoy from the emo-rap band Gym Class Heroes. His 2008 debut album, No Introduction, was executive produced by Pete Wentz of Fall Out Boy and was a weird, mall-punk take on Black Eyed Peas-ian hip-hop. He signed to Young Money a few years back, but apart from appearing on the label's 2009 posse album, he mostly stayed quiet, releasing a string of mixtapes into the ether. Lacking the star power of fellow YMCMBers Nicki Minaj and Drake, Tyga seemed destined to remain on the sidelines.
But then "Rack City" happened. Originally released on his Well Done 2 mixtape, the slithering ode to Bay Area twerk music became a massive hit. There is everything to like about the song. It's futuristic but simple, sexy but silly, quotable ("Got your grandma on my dick") and ingratiatingly catchy. "Rack City" is on some level a genius pop moment, and at this point it's also a meme: There are Tumblr homages, a version that serves as the Los Angeles Clippers unofficial theme song, and urban myths about its creator being forced to dance to the track at gunpoint. Now all of a sudden, people are reassessing Tyga. Does he have any other songs-- let alone a whole album's worth-- anywhere near that good?
Careless World: Rise of the Last King tries its damndest to answer this question in the affirmative. Tyga isn't a gifted lyricist, but he has a few key things going in his favor: a workmanlike ability to ride a beat, a solid singing voice, and a great ear for melody. Executive producer Jess Jackson (previously an unknown UK garage guy who asserts himself as an emerging hitmaker here), leverages this by giving him juicy, hook-laden cuts. These songs don't reinvent the wheel and sometimes openly cop from existing hits. "Muthafucka Up" is basically "6'7"" Part Two, "Black Crowns" takes a moody page out of Noah "40" Shebib's playbook, and so forth. Still, they sound big and sturdy, built for the radio.
In terms of persona, Tyga goes a long way here to establish himself as a complicated and sensitive dude. Clearly he's seen Drake's success and understands the value of adding some introspection into the mix. So while there is no shortage of flossed-out hedonism (not only "Rack City" but the equally gooey Lil Wayne collaboration "Faded"), you've also got several lovelorn jams. Occasionally this feels forced, and he's clearly not operating on a "Marvins Room" level, but for the most part he pulls it off. "And when I said I love you, yeah, I fuckin' meant it, and we ain't gotta bring your moms and your sister in it," goes one line in "Love Game" that feels like a specific bad memory from a specific bad argument.
Pair these moments with elegant summertime jams like "This Is Like" (featuring the poor man's Justin Timberlake, Robin Thicke) and you've got yourself a surprisingly solid pop-rap effort. Its one major flaw, aside from a few cringe-inducing moments-- there is at least one brostep breakdown, one track features a voicemail from Tyga's mom telling him how awesome he is, and that inexplicable MLK sample-- is that it's way, way too long. Twenty-one tracks at nearly one-and-a-half hours is an insane length for an album with this kind of pop instinct. Set aside that complaint, though, and I'm left without much to pick at. "Rack City": Not a fluke.
