In the video for “Topanga,” Trippie Redd is dressed as an irreverent pastor, singing about his ability to save his damsel and tote guns. He’s not the kind of vicar to pass around the collection plate; there are pentagrams and animal skulls dispersed throughout. He levitates menacingly, his hair’s an angry shade of crimson, there’s a green serpent here as well. Neat!
Trippie Redd’s brand of emo rap is similarly hackneyed. That doesn’t stop him from making these consummate odes to heartbreak. But while his sad songs sound a touch more authentic and sensible here, the overall doom-and-gloom shtick is starting to wear thin. A Love Letter to You 3 showcases the benefits of refining a long-running aesthetic while also revealing its main limitation: the looming sense that things are getting a bit stale.
Trippie Redd’s caterwauling makes his music endearing when it connects and grating when it misses. Since the release of A Love Letter to You 2, he’s tuned-up his emotional screeches to sound a little more soothing and milky. A Love Letter to You 3 begins with “Topanga” that builds a somber soundtrack for Trippie’s most vulnerable-sounding carols yet. He sings about gunplay with newly polished vocals. Gone are the simplistic choruses and general sleaze weighed down his songwriting; in its place is a multi-part refrain that indicates a degree of familiarity with his faults. It quickly establishes a familiar somber mood that gets further excavated throughout the project as he digs into emo rap’s fascination with brandishing pain’s outcomes. The idea isn’t novel but it’s a little more fleshed out than many of his peers.
Thankfully, he’s not chasing hits, which made Life’s a Trip an uneven slog. A Love Letter to You 3 is a blended affair of melancholy music with a gentle alt-rock atmosphere and plucky guitar strings throughout. “Toxic Waste” blooms smooth and slowly, similar to the slightly more lively “Love Scars 3.” Its consistency, aside from the drowning 808s of “1400/999 Freestyle” which feature an eye-rolling tough guy act from Juice WRLD, lends to its authenticity and flowing nature. Without the potholes, it’s a smoother ride.
But while consistency can be read as a strong point, it also makes these songs naggingly predictable. This is the third installment of his flagship series and, now, the tortured-soul act is wearing thin. “I Tried Loving” borders on pestering whining with a heartless ode about heartbreak. There’s at least four relationship-ending songs up here and they begin to bleed together after a couple of listens. Without the bright, creative spots, the doom and gloom begin to feel manufactured to adhere to an aesthetic that he seems lost without. This is frightening because when there’s nothing zippy left to snap attention to, interest begins to wane. A Love Letter 3 is hopefully a farewell for Trippie’s puppy-eyed passages. This is a rare case where the music can be technically sound, yet be largely dismissible because there’s no growth. Emo rap is a crowded space with more innovative artists than Trippie; to eat again, he’ll need to change up his hunting style.
