Is Larry June the new ultimate hustler? Last year, Complex sat the rising San Francisco rapper down and asked him to pass judgment on the hustling credentials of some of the genre’s biggest names. June draws his authority on the subject from experience: He overturned a disappointing stint on Warner to find success with his own label, The Freeminded, while making music with a consistent message of diversifying one’s portfolio and making smart investments. On “Financial Freedom,” from 2020, he mused on a regret that he once bought a watch instead of stock in Amazon.
June’s hustling finishing school was the streets. “We was fucking with anything we can get our hands on and make some money,” he told The Ringer. If he doesn’t reveal more, it’s because his music requires minimal backstory. Spaceships on the Blade plays like a weekend in the life of a hustler, our protagonist’s journey told in hazy late-night drives behind the wheels of purring sports cars. The album begins with the sound of some super-fly, string-drenched soul-funk and June shares the demeanor of any number of legendary on-screen hustlers: Youngblood Priest, “Fast Eddie” Felson, Huggy Bear. Calm as you like, he teases out smooth bling’n’nice-things rhymes. The title to “I’ll Make Time” feels like a fallacy: June comes across as a man who has never felt rushed in his life.
So you get a song like “Private Valet,” where June describes parking his Lamborghini near his speedboat, stepping off a jet in a mink coat with a beautiful woman by his side, and sleeping just fine after spending a half a million dollars. Spaceships on the Blade largely eschews the investment raps in favor of many tales of June treating his lady, so much so that he sometimes slips into a more romantic and melodic vocal style. It’s Jay-Z’s “Excuse Me Miss” video extended to 53 minutes. There’s an inherent silliness to these Rick Ross-sized indulgences, but June’s laid-back presence keeps the mood light. You take him as seriously as you want to take him.
Born Larry Eugene Hendricks III to teenage parents in San Francisco, June moved to Atlanta at age 5; he spent much of his childhood vacationing to the West Coast, where he longed to live permanently. At 14, he moved back to his native Hunters Point neighborhood briefly before heading to Vallejo. His music proudly reps the Bay, relying on post-hyphy pop’n’snap beats, and like many regional forefathers, June releases music at an unconquerable level of prolificacy. Yet some Southern influences seep through: “5.0 Chronicles” features a screwed-down hook and a guest spot from Curren$y. Another Southern diplomat arrives on “Still Boomin” in the form of 2 Chainz. Spaceships on the Blade regularly looks to synthy 1980s R&B, too: the romantic “For Tonight” receives a velvety hook courtesy of Syd.
There are some obvious setbacks. The lack of specificity can make the writing feel generic at times, especially over the course of a 20-track release. On “In My Pockets,” June celebrates closing a deal without going into detail about the deal itself. And sometimes his ultra-relaxed flow can slide into the realm of lackadaisical. But it’s impossible to throw on Spaceships on the Blade and not come away feeling that June is a guy who’s just dope—a rapper with the natural magnetism and confidence that correlates with the success he wants to convey.
