Album Review: Antwon- Heavy Hearted in Doldrums


Biggie meets Cloud Rap.

What does that even mean?

It’s something I read somewhere on the Internet that was attempting to describe the sound of rapper Antwon.

You see, within the world of music, there are genres, and then there are sub-genres. And then there are things I like to call theoretical genres. “Cloud Rap,” would be one of those. It’s not really a real thing, per se. But it’s a term on the Internet used to describe certain artists.

I guess it’s real enough to have its own Wikipedia entry, claiming that it is noted for “its use of ethereal, dreamlike beats, and frequently stream of consciousness, surreal or absurd lyrics.” It’s also apparently known as “trillwave,” which is a term I am hearing for the first time now, and I both love and hate it.

I suppose going by these definitions alone, Antwon could definitely be described as “Biggie meets Cloud Rap.”

Hailing from San Jose, Antwon is like, you know, a bigger dude, so he’s got a little bit of Christopher Wallace (whether it is intentional or not) in his cadence. But while Biggie loved to talk about guns, and the crack game—like many post-Internet rappers, Antwon’s lyrics are primarily about the drugs he’s on, and how he is, like, knee deep in pussy.

You see, a bulk of Heavy Hearted’s songs are dedicated to the ladies; specifically, the ladies that Antwon is just straight out railing in graphic detail. He really wastes no time getting down to it—like, right out the gate on the open track, “Rain Song,” where he casually tosses out, “Got long hair but that pussy hair braided.”

Later on, it’s “baby hair,” on the aptly titled “Baby Hair,” a song with a refrain that left me a little confused, and kind of uncomfortable—“As long as your daddy don’t care, girl, I’mma run my fingers through your baby hairs.” Like, what does that even mean?

Or do I even want to know?

Heavy Hearted is a rather short affair—coming in at a little over a half hour, and some of the tracks are so short that they feel a little unfinished. In contrast, at times, there are songs that run a little long and could have benefited from some self-editing—“Mr. Intercontinental,” specifically, goes on a tad longer than it should have.  And structurally speaking, he saves all of the two-minute or less tracks until the end of the record, so it ends up coming to a rather abrupt ending.

Musically, Antwon has recruited a different producer for each of the album’s 12 tracks. That’s a risky move, since it removes a feeling of cohesion at times, but the risk, for the most part, pays off, because the songs all work relatively well together. Little Pain’s go-to producer Suicideyear turns up on “Don’t Care,” one of the album’s many 80s synth-pop inspired tracks, juxtaposing incredibly raunchy lyrics with a somewhat whimsical beat. And on “Loser” and “Rain Song,” he conjures some very Spaceghostpurrp-esq spooky atmospherics.

There also may or may not be a nod to DMX’s “Ruff Rhyders’ Anthem” with the keyboard sequencing on “Cold Tears.”

When he isn’t rapping about all the sex he’s having, Antwon can be pretty clever if he wants to be. Early on in the record, there’s a blink and you miss it reference to that Disney movie Blank Check, and later on “Stop,” he mentions the popular Twitter hashtag “#ThisCouldBeUsButYouPlayin.”

Antwon may brag about fulfilling the ladies, and I hesitate to say that Heavy Hearted is an unfulfilling listening experience, but it leaves something to be desired.  It’s an interesting album—that is certain. And it is by no means a bad record, but as a lyricist, Antwon could probably benefit from some growth, unless rapping about all the sex he’s having is his gimmick. If that’s the case, then Heavy Hearted in Doldrums accomplishes exactly what it set out to do.


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