In the late 2010s, rapper Don Toliver brought something new to the table: a seductively versatile voice and distinctive production aesthetic. The neon-techno synth hop and rhythmic trap R&B beats were enough to take the industry by storm back then because they were novel. Years later, Toliver’s colorfully-genred cocktail continues to fall flat amidst the ever-evolving hip-hop scene. Toliver’s fourth studio album, “Love Sick,” released Feb. 24, has its redeeming qualities. But ultimately, the artist fails to elevate his sound or reinvent his music in a way that would render the project anything but forgettable.
Courtesy of Atlantic Records Group
Toliver has one asset that separates him from many in his genre: his voice. However, despite the power of a voice as tonally rich and texturally interesting as his, Toliver fails to find an effective way to employ his key instrument. What could be transcendent is simply pleasing to the ears, and thus, his inability to take his sound to new heights is especially disappointing.
This is not to say that “Love Sick” isn’t a good listen. The album, especially a few of the collaborative and more experimental songs, is catchy enough to make you bop your head in the car and contains lyrics alluring enough to put you in a sensual mood. But perhaps this is another nod to the album’s lack of star quality, because as soon as you close the car door or put your clothes back on, its magic disappears. You surely won’t be humming any snippets to yourself on loop. It’s more background music than anything else, leaving you with too much to be wanted and not enough to hold on to.
The most impressive elements of “Love Sick” lie in its features. In “Let Her Go,” producer and singer James Blake blends his voice with Toliver’s, accomplishing a unique choral sound that reverberates through its entire three minutes in an act of spiritual pleasantry. Blake produced several other songs on the album, and his talent doesn’t go unnoticed.
In “4 Me,” Toliver collaborates with longtime girlfriend Kali Uchis to unleash a more explorative pop-R&B sound, which is simple, yet surprisingly catchy, something Toliver should lean into more. Listen too closely, though, and you’ll get a stronger urge to laugh than dance, as Toliver chooses to match Uchis’ romantic sentiment, “I will take the stars out the sky for you,” with a simple, “I’ll put my meat in you.” How sweet of you, Donny!
Finally, “Bus Stop,” a joint endeavor with Brent Faiyaz, reaches into the potential of what Toliver could be doing with his music. The song is a double-edged sword, on one side a catchy-as-hell trap beat that exercises perfectly twerkable simplicity, and on the other a ballad-like vocal performance that embraces the talented voices of both Faiyaz and Toliver himself.
However, it’s a red flag if an album’s greatest strength is its guest stars. “Love Sick” is a fun time, with a vibe that captures the colorfully mollied-out chaos of the club and the pill-popping grandeur of a millionaire-owned New York City apartment, but just like the drugged-out reality it captures, its magic fades slowly into nothing before the night is even over.
If nothing else, Toliver has a remarkable talent for consistently whipping up decent songs, and that counts for something.
Nathan Rubin is a Junior from the Carolinas double majoring in Film & Media Studies and English. Outside of being Arts & Entertainment Editor at the Wheel, Nathan is a Writing Editor for Alloy Literary Magazine and hosts a queer radio show on WMRE. When he's not staring blankly at a blinking cursor, you can find him watching way too many horror movies and drinking way too many Baja Blasts.
