You’ll never catch Quelle Chris doing what’s expected of him. The bohemian Detroit rapper-producer hit new levels of excellence on both the Jean Grae joint project Everything’s Fine, and Guns, his meditation on American violence. On the back of those wins, a sequel to Innocent Country—the 2015 collaboration with producer Chris Keys—seemed as unlikely as it was unnecessary. Take it from Quelle Chris himself, who when ranking his projects back in 2017 for Vice, placed the record fourth on a six-album list. But the pair enjoy the relationship of two old buddies naturally cozy in each other’s presence. “I think at that time I would be at Chris’s spot in Oakland and we’d just smoke, chill, watch random shit, get food, listen to some music, make some beats, write songs, repeat,” Quelle told Vice.
On the sequel, the pair recaptures this easy chemistry, serving up a set as blissful as a buzzed-on-beer snooze on a hot summer afternoon. Keys’ soft piano, organ keys, and light rat-tat-tat drums call on the soulful spirit of old Minnie Riperton instrumentals, and the melancholic jazz of “Black Twitter” could pass for an old Bob James cut. It’s fair to say the lack of tension can feel like the album’s weakness—Innocent Country 2 could use something like “Wild Minks,” Chris’s team-up with Mach-Hommy from Guns, to break up the good vibes—but Keys’ beats stay as perfect a fit for Quelle as his high-peaked baseball caps, helping the album’s lengthy running time to breeze by.
Whenever Innocent Country 2 threatens to fade into a pleasant blur, guests help pick up the pace. Homeboy Sandman storms onto “Sacred Safe,” raging that “Every single person on Earth irks me,” while the churchly sounds of “Mirage” might be the brightest beat Earl Sweatshirt has rapped over in ages. Other appearances are less expected. Merrill Garbus appears on three songs, the best of which, “Graphic Bleed Outs,” shows the Tune-Yards singer scale down her usually powerful voice to line up with Keys’ dreamy flutes while she asserts that a lover has slashed at her spirit like a cold blade piercing her lungs. The counterbalance of gore and tranquility is jarring, but if there’s one thing you need to enter Quelle Chris’s world, it’s a mind open enough to reject conventional logic.
It’s Chris, finally, who anchors the project. Unlike Guns, his goals here are modest but fully realized. He can swing from wry one-liners to guy-in-bar observations; he can offer goofy jokes or cutting narratives. “Living Happy” investigates the idea of crossing to the other side; in a delivery that sounds more traveling preacher than rapper, Chris envisions his own death: “Couldn’t find the energy to fight the call of the tunnel’s light,” he asserts before describing the angels on the other side.
The warped and winsome grand pianos of “Sudden Death” honor the flaws of life: “It’s not for certain, but life ain’t perfect,” sings Chris, his voice squeaky and whimsical. Not allowing the pursuit of perfection get in the way of the celebration is a fine microcosm for Quelle Chris, who never lets kinks in his grand plan stop him. There is a fine logic to everything he does, even if it’s apparent only to him; returning to his Innocent Country franchise and outstripping the original just asserts that he always gives you something, even if it’s never what you expect.
Buy: Rough Trade
