If you ever wondered what YoungBoy would sound like without the emotional complexity, well I got it, it’s Anti da Menace. Raised on the West Side of Atlanta, the red-hot teenager caught a breakout moment earlier this year with the threat-fueled single “Murder Bitch,” which shaves down YoungBoy’s sound to a growling delivery and anger. But YoungBoy is so much more than that, he’s rarely ever just angry, there’s sadness, pain, and regret bubbling under the surface even when he’s not explicitly saying that. Those layers weren’t always instantly identifiable, but through years of YoungBoy laying out his story and developing his vocal tics on countless mixtapes did it all come together.
Anti da Menace’s newest mixtape, Legendary, skips a couple of steps. Like a YoungBoy album, the sound ranges from tender melodic ballads to brash, drill-inflected diss tracks, yet the emotion is unearned. Of the more vulnerable tracks, which are the type of songs where we’ve learned more about YoungBoy than any interview, Anti da Menace isn’t actually that vulnerable. “Flamethrower” has the elements of what sounds like he’s pouring his heart out—strained vocals, a weepy piano-driven beat, vague words of advice from his mom—but he doesn’t actually say anything to back up the mood. It’s completely relying on our pre-existing knowledge that this is what more downbeat Southern pain rap songs sound like, without doing any of the work. “Forgive Me” is similarly impersonal, there’s not much that makes the song about Anti da Menace, the vagueness is an assumption that we already know his story which makes the lines ring hollow.
He’s a lot better off making songs like “Murder Bitch” even if they are a bit one-note. Similar to how Florida rapper Cochise cordoned off a small bit of Playboi Carti by running off with his helium-voiced flow, Anti da Menace does a pretty good imitation of YoungBoy’s menacing side. On “Blood Boy,” arguably the album’s best song, Anti Da Menace’s snarling delivery is so intense that he could probably rip his t-shirt with his bare hands a la Hulk Hogan. The lyrics where he tries to paint the most violent images possible have no weight to them other than shock, but the energy covers it up well enough. Then over a slightly groovier version of SleazyWorld Go’s “Sleazy Flow” on “Switchblade,” he shows some skill by channeling his anger through a gravelly melody instead of snapping. Meanwhile, “223” goes in the opposite direction: The moment a funky bassline becomes more pronounced in the thrashing beat, his growls are cranked up so much that the relatively clean mix can’t stop his vocals from cracking. It’s the weirdest moment on an album that could have used a lot more weird moments.
Even when Anti da Menace occasionally breaks free from the YoungBoy mold, there’s still not much that sounds specific to him. “Enemies” has the acoustic guitar-led frame of a NoCap track, but he’s not lyrical enough to carry that. “Outta Bounds” starts out like a King Von–style crime short, and despite the two-minute runtime, he runs out of story about halfway through. His most promising moment is “Red Rum,” which has shades of Lil Durk with the way he blends the ruthless spirit of drill with Southern pain melodies. And while it’s a bit of a tired sound, at least the focus is more on his relentlessness and not on what he’s saying. Because, hey, not having much to say is fine, the problem comes up when he’s working within styles of rap that basically require that. Leave the balladry to YoungBoy and he’ll be alright.
