Album Review: Scram! by Domo Genesis & Graymatter
Domo Genesis leans into a partnership that amplifies his independence. Together with Graymatter, he uses sample‑driven beats as a space to reckon with solitude, discipline, and the cost of peace.
Years after walking out of the Odd Future house, Domo Genesis has stopped trading on nostalgia. Instead of chasing his teenage buzz, he spent the last few years making stripped‑down projects with Evidence (Intros, Outros & Interludes in 2022) and Graymatter (What You Don’t Get?! and World Gone Mad), releases that hardened his resolve and narrowed his circle. Scram! is the latest entry in that line, a fourth studio album that values skill over display. The excitement here doesn’t come from reinvention but from watching a veteran sharpen his tools and find peace in isolation.
Graymatter provides the atmosphere that makes that transformation audible. His beats are both warm and brittle—drums that sound like they were pulled from dusty records, basslines that rumble but never overpower, loops that repeat until they blur into muscle memory. Little flourishes appear, but nothing distracts from the voice at the center. There are no guest producers and no stylistic detours, just one palette stretched across thirteen songs. That restraint gives Domo space to stretch out; he doesn’t sprint to catch a beat but walks at his own pace.
“Sheddingweight” lays out the stakes. Over a drumless loop, Domo unfolds his origin story without romanticising it. “Self‑educated, I just wanna meditate/Getting closer to myself, get medicated,” he raps, charting a path from self‑schooling to self‑control. When he admits he “Left the old crew like I was shedding weight,” it reads not as a diss to Odd Future but as an acknowledgment that he couldn’t grow with extra baggage. The lines spill out with purpose rather than punchlines, and Graymatter’s sparse loop gives him room to breathe. It’s a satisfying opening to how a rapper is trimming distractions and trusting his own voice.
On “Money,” Domo treats cash not as a celebration but as a warning. As he is selfish with his money, the verses explore the cost of that single‑mindedness. Riding through his old neighborhood in a limo, he reminds himself, “Money built my ego, my ego tell me lies,” a rare moment where braggadocio and self‑critique share the same bar. The beat hums like an engine idling; tension builds but never erupts. By the time Evidence shows up on “Clocking2U,” Domo is sharper. He opens with “It’s a money shot, I got the coordinates/I made mistakes, but I rarely miss the important ones” and imagines himself “flying too close to the sun,” a man acknowledging his ambition while refusing to crash. Evidence’s verse about chasing perfection (“My best beat is my next one, not one that’s in the stashes”) fits the mood, as these are craftsmen who know their limits and push against them anyway.
Part of Scram!’s appeal lies in how Domo alternates between exhaustion and drive without lapsing into self‑pity. “Goodgracious” captures the fatigue of someone who has been hustling since adolescence. He admits he is “caught up in this lifestyle” and can’t slow down, then wonders who will pray for him when he finally needs help. Graymatter’s airy synths underscore the weariness, and the refrain (“Good grief, I really am this shit”) sounds less like a boast than a sigh. The song hints at burnout without romanticizing it.
That refusal to posture runs through “Plainface,” the record’s standout track. Over a slow, glacial loop, Domo outlines plain language as survival. “Closed mouths never eat you, gotta use your voice” becomes a motto, and the verses catalogue responsibilities rather than fantasies: caring for a special‑needs brother at fourteen, growing up without a father, refusing to “put a price over my soul.” There are no slick punchlines because the point is not cleverness but endurance. When he says “we gon’ be alright,” it sounds like someone willing himself forward, not pandering to an audience.
His delivery has changed. He’s calmer but cutting, with the weight of a decade behind every line. On “Dedication,” he confesses to being his mother’s son while calling out corruption and running on no sleep. “Everythingimnot” pairs him with 3wayslim and finds him claiming, “I’m top two and I’m not two.” Throughout, he trims the excess from his flow, replacing breathy cadences with measured pacing. His baritone now carries layers—exhaustion, resolve, a hint of joy in having survived.
“Tiresmoke” flips that introspection into urgency. Domo raps like a man warming up before a fight: “My tank is nearing empty but my tempo always speeding/My feet is to the concrete like a Flintstone vehicle.” The lines are blunt but effective, illustrating how stubbornness keeps him moving. Even his bravado is self‑aware. He calls himself a “muthafuckin’ problem” only to underline that he values staying low and keeping stress down. Graymatter’s drums hit harder here than anywhere else, yet they never overpower; they push him like a trainer who knows when to ease off. “Pray4U” is where Domo stands with “both feet on the earth” and imagines wings on his back, admitting that he has been “hardly eating, hardly sleeping, harshly overthinking.” He wonders whether any lesson can be learned from his pain and prays for his family and for armor. The vulnerability lies in the asking. The jokes are gone, the focus sharpened, the ambition internal. Graymatter supplies dusty canvases, and Domo fills them with discipline instead of decoration.
Great (★★★★☆)
Favorite Track(s): “Sheddingweight,” “Plainface,” “Tiresmoke”