The Bay Area’s high intensity, sparsely produced ratchet music scene has reached its tipping point, what with locals like Sage the Gemini scoring chart hits without any airplay elsewhere in the country, savvy out-of-towners like Nicki Minaj and Jeezy genuflecting westward as early adopters Drake and Tyga did on “The Motto” and “Rack City”, and artists like J. Lo and T-Pain linking up with ratchet impresario DJ Mustard in search of a renewed relevance. Los Angeles singer/producer Ty Dolla $ign heads up ratchet music’s R&B division; after paying dues producing for Compton stars YG and Problem and featuring on Cali rap records of every stripe Ty finally zeroed in on a sleek, commercially viable sound on his flagship Beach House mixtape series with tracks like “My Cabana”, which crossed a swatch of Skrillex with horns lifted off of the R&B band Mint Condition. Last year’s Beach House 2 took a bigger-is-better approach to the lushly produced, impishly explicit sounds of the first installment, soldering famous guests onto remixes and melding unrelated songs into overlong, drippy epics. Sometimes it worked, but all too often it sounded like it was fishing for hits.
Suitably the mixtape’s least fussy song was its biggest hit. “Paranoid” parlayed a spectral Mustard production into a story about a serial cheater caught in the same club with both girlfriends. With “Paranoid” steadily inching up the charts, Ty’s new label Atlantic is capitalizing on its Billboard Hot 100 traction with a retail EP. Beach House the EP succeeds where the mixtape Beach House 2 didn’t, further commercializing Ty’s sound without sacrificing the meat and potatoes of it, the foul-mouthed, sex-positivity of Ty’s quixotic bedroom capers and the production’s precarious balance between slight, house-informed ratchet music, trap and densely arranged traditional R&B sounds. Ty’s reigned in some of the thornier aspects of his songwriting for Beach House. The needling insistence of nebulous agency jams “Know Y I Came” and “Zone’n” is scaled back, and the cloying misogyny of “Bitches Ain’t Shit” is carved out, too. In their place we get a Dolla $ign focusing on catchphrases and simplicity. “Or Nah” co-opts a bit of goofy Twitter vernacular as Ty and his Taylor Gang boss Wiz Khalifa fire off randy one-liners over the bed creaks from the Trillville classic “Some Cut”. On “Familiar” he effects a staccato drill flow over ominous production from Chief Keef go-to Young Chop and guest verses from Kanye protege Travi$ Scott and Keef underboss Fredo Santana.
Beach House largely avoids the mixtapes’ penchant for winding two-part blowouts, too, barring opener “Work” and the double-shot of “Paranoid” that comprise the EP’s front end. “Work” is an excellent showcase for what Ty can do with a longer composition. It vaults from a spoken word intro from Nate Howard to verses from Ty, a guest rap from Odd Future buddy Casey Veggies, and beat and key changes as the viscous, brass-assisted chipmunk soul of D’Mile and D.R.U.G.S.’ beat crystallizes into ambient trap underneath a blistering verse from Twista. The movements flow naturally, and nothing feels as forced as the cute but tacky song transitions of Beach House 2. On the other hand, chasing it with nine minutes of “Paranoid” is a misstep. The single version replaces the original’s stellar guest spot from Ty’s boy Joe Mo$e$ with a tryhard verse from a B.o.B still new to embracing his inner heel. It’s followed by a remix featuring DJ Mustard in full Fatman Scoop hypeman mode, a comically punchdrunk French Montana, and, for whatever reason, Trey Songz. The song’s economy is its greatest strength, and despite the additional guests and tweaks to the beat on the remix, robbing it of its impactful brevity by playing it twice through only serves to drag it down.
The EP closes with another holdover from Beach House 2 in the underlooked nightcap “Never Be the Same”, where Ty cuts the sex talk to beat his chest about his passage from anonymity to budding fame. It’s also his lone production cut in an EP largely aided by Mustard, Cardo, and Brooklyn producer D’Mile. It leads on a blocky video game synth, building on bits of guitar and piano for color until Ty slathers a bed of interlocking vocal runs over top everything. “Never Be the Same” is the wistful hangover breakfast to the rest of the EP’s after hours meanderings, and it’s also proof that Dolla $ign is even bigger than the devilish lechery he’s built his name on.
