Album Review: The Crossroads by Cordae
Although it’s a step up from his second album, Cordae’s third effort reinvents the wheel as little as possible. He acts with the original fidelity and accuracy of an A-student.
With his debut as something of a “Middle Child,” Cordae entered a crowded scene. He tried to mend the gap between the old guard and the newer generation of aggressive up-and-comers. He worshiped the same legends his predecessors did, yet aimed to speak for those who find themselves targeted by the long-established veterans. He was a rapper who could appeal to both the old-timer in a fitted cap and the hype beast in a Travis Scott mosh pit.
That initial wave of energy made his debut, The Lost Boy, so effective. Musically, straightforward idol worship blended with technically impressive rap and a lyrical looseness that fit a 20-year-old newcomer. However, that breakthrough was five years ago. With each subsequent release, Cordae’s approach lost its persuasive edge.
On paper, The Crossroads is meant as a form of correction after the generally shrugged-off From A Birds Eye View. His attempt at new styles came across as unfocused and bland, and even Cordae himself later dismissed that album as a misstep. A return to basics means a return to familiar sounds: Chipmunk soul, R&B, and boom bap take center stage, and only now and then does the North Carolina rapper step outside this comfort zone.
This time around, he has a bit more money in his pocket, which resets the framework for an album in this style. The features, the album length, and the attempt to cram an introspective, autobiographical concept into the middle all feel like an effort to conjure the classic record his eager fans have believed he was capable of delivering since his breakout.
However, a problem quickly surfaces with every looped soul sample. Cordae imitates his idols even more faithfully than he did on his first album, but he leaves too little room for his own identity in this laboratory-like replication. Over extended stretches, The Crossroads sounds like his attempt at crafting his own College Dropout or Late Registration, and on “Nothings Promised” he even interpolates Kanye’s “Heard Em Say.” The issue is that nobody needs this kind of copy, and Cordae lacks the charisma to compensate for having nothing genuinely new to say.
The pleasant head-nod beats produced by J. Cole—another ubiquitous figure in Cordae’s universe—lose their appeal by the seventh straight, overly serious track about how his life used to be terrible and now is good. Truly memorable lines are rare; most of this record consists of sentimental, technically competent filler. On “Shai Afeni,” for example, Cordae raps about his newborn daughter but manages to sound duller, which is too bad because you would think it would come out heartfelt.
It gets worse when he increases the BPM on tracks like “Mad As Fuck” and “Never See It” and unleashes trap drums. Like a younger Logic, Cordae seems to think he must go full braggadocio mode the instant an 808 comes into play. The problem here is less the content and more the delivery. It’s hard to care about him claiming to sleep with seven women in six hours while wearing five watches on each arm when he sounds like he’s got four sticks up his backside.
Still, it’s not worth piling on too harshly. The Crossroads does little that’s outright wrong, aside from musical redundancy and some lyrical missteps. It’s clear this young man loves the genre and wants to create the kind of album that inspired him to pick up a mic. The involvement of hip-hop greats like Lil Wayne and Kanye could be considered co-signs, but their contributions would need to be more exciting—and in Kanye’s case, more present—to leave a mark. It’s not even clear from that mumbled hook if Ye knows this album exists, let alone that he’s on it.
That said, there are moments when The Crossroads produces a hint of its own flavor and breaks free from the boom-bap blur. The two duets with Anderson .Paak—especially “Summer Drop”—have a great vibe and recall the brilliance of “RNP,” reminding us that these two should consider making a full collaborative project. Their chemistry outshines the rest of the guest list and reintroduces some of that easygoing spark that originally drew so many eyes to Cordae.
“Don’t Walk Away,” which swaps out a sample for genuine soul vocals from Jordan Ward and Ravyn Lenae, charms with its summery guitar licks. “Syrup Sandwiches” has an appealing groove, and the closer “Now You Know” works as a sentimental finale with choir and organ—exactly the kind of heartfelt ending you’d expect from this kind of project—without overdoing it.
If you enjoy hip-hop, you probably won’t hate The Crossroads. Cordae doesn’t reinvent the wheel, but he does execute with fidelity and precision worthy of respect. There’s certainly an audience for what he’s doing. Yet, like a straight-A student who stumbles after graduation, the former YBN rapper seems trapped by his own record collection. Yes, he knows all the classics, but in the process, he seems to have misplaced his own calling card.
Above Average (★★★☆☆)
Favorite Track(s): “06 Dreamin,” “Summer Drop,” “Now You Know”