At the center of Isaiah Rashad’s third album, It’s Been Awful, is “Act Normal,” which addresses a viral 2022 incident when tapes of the Chattanooga, Tennessee-raised artist making out with men leaked on the internet. He tells us that he grew up in a house full of secrets, says “the whole family was sex addicts,” and remembers his mother being in love with her best friend. Now, as a 34-year-old rapper whose last album, 2021’s The House Is Burning, debuted at Number Seven on the Billboard 200, he declares himself “a porn star” and shrugs, “Some girls come with a dick/Some with the child support.” (In an interview with Joe Budden, Rashad said that he’s “sexually fluid” and in a monogamous relationship with a woman “who has a similar understanding of themselves.”) “War is living yet at war with yourself/I don’t trust a boy or a girl,” Rashad raps. “Act normal?”
There are other stray lines amid It’s Been Awful’s 16-track, 54-minute track list that further illustrate a rap musician who belies stereotypes. “See, maybe stay the night, then I could be your boyfriend/And if that doesn’t work, then I’ll just be your girlfriend,” he harmonizes in a crusty whisper on “Boy in Red,” a duet with fellow TDE artist SZA with a chorus seemingly inspired by Prince’s “If I Was Your Girlfriend.”
On “Do I Look High?” he tells himself, “You be fucking anybody when you on that powder.” Rashad isn’t the only mainstream male rapper to publicly explore his fluidity, so to speak; Tyler, the Creator immediately comes to mind. But It’s Been Awful and, specifically, “Act Normal” is as concise a statement about men in rap struggling with their sexuality as has ever been made. For listeners who survived the 1990s and the likes of Brand Nubian claiming they’ll “fuck up a f—–,” it’s an extraordinary development.
For much of his career, Rashad lingered in the shadows of Top Dawg Entertainment’s primary breadwinner, Kendrick Lamar. Albums such as 2016’s The Sun’s Tirade drew critical acclaim as well as admirers like Billie Eilish, who told RS that her classic hit single “Bad Guy” was inspired by Rashad and SZA’s “Stuck in the Mud.” In a recent Instagram Stories post about his guest appearance on It’s Been Awful’s “Cameras,” Dominic Fike wrote, “So grateful to zay for all the flows I copied and all the late nights watching this man’s music videos.” Yet despite his quiet influence as well as a noteworthy performance at Coachella in 2022, Rashad hasn’t quite broken out in the pop mainstream. He feels indicative of an era when rap musicians like himself, Tyler, Earl Sweatshirt, Rapsody, and others are subtly pushing the art forward, without the arena-smashing hit singles and Love & Hip-Hop-styled tabloid antics of the past.
Sonically, It’s Been Awful resembles Rashad’s prior work, with slushy beats and filtered melodies — “slow-ass beats,” as Rashad calls them on “10 States Away.” They’re cobbled together by producers like Julian Sintonia (who also sings on “Do I Look High?”), Hollywood Cole (who helms “M.O.M.” and is best known for J.I.D.’s hit “Sistanem”), and Mario Luciano (who co-produced “Same Sh!t”). Rashad makes frequent allusions to Outkast’s ATLiens and Aquemini years, like the “break” callout at the beginning of “M.O.M.” (aka “Man On a Mission”), a blend of warm keyboard melodies and drum patterns. On “Do I Look High?,” he nods to another era in their career, rapping, “I made this especially for us/To commemorate the Idlewild.” Most of the album evokes the muddy, melancholy Southern blues of mid-’90s rap, like UGK’s Ridin’ Dirty and Scarface’s The Untouchable, as well as the work of Big K.R.I.T., another Dirty South revivalist who couldn’t quite break out of rap’s middle class. He often accompanies his voice with female backing vocalists like Nina Woods (who also co-produces “The New Sublime”), resulting in an oddly pleasing echoing effect. Near album’s end, Rashad offers “Nuthin’ to Hide,” which mimics the kind of big-hearted pop-rock emotions that Noah Kahan and Hozier are known for.
Rashad spends much of his time rapping about substance abuse, even though he’s said that he’s gotten sober. He drunk-dials his mother on “Scared 2 Look Down,” and she responds that he’s on a death wish. He misses his children on “10 States Away” and copes by getting loaded in the afternoon. “All my heroes are junkies, yeah,” he affirms on “Happy Hour,” which doesn’t sound as cool as he probably thinks it does. Then he ends It’s Been Awful with “719 Freestyle,” where he boasts with palpable energy before asking, curiously, “What’s that cage for?”
Any pop psychologist can draw connections between Rashad’s tormented sexuality, fraught family memories, complicated feelings about being a rap star, and a reliance on pills, powders, alcohol, and sex. Ultimately, it’s easier to praise him for being so honest about his troubles than wonder why he can’t offer us resolution. “I know I’m flawed,” he raps on “Supaficial.” “But stay with me.”
