Album Review: Post Malone, Hollywood's Bleeding

Wheezy rhymer Austin Richard Post likens his plight as a zillionaire rapper to the final days of Kurt Cobain late into his new album. “Me and Kurt feel the same,” he proclaims in the half-slurred style he has made his trademark. “Too much pleasure… too much pain”.

Rock music has long since weaned itself off the “fame’s a drag” trope. But hip hop – or at least Post Malone – has yet to read the memo. So while his third album brims with guest spots from Ozzy Osbourne, Travis Scott, Future, SZA and more, it’s the woe-is-me theme that leaves the deepest impression.

Celebrity, former heavy-rock guitarist Post wants us to know, is just the worst. ‘St-Tropez’ finds him complaining that his luxury yacht isn’t quite luxurious enough. And the rocking ‘A Thousand Bad Times’ recalls when a woman tried to burn down his mansion (we’ve all been there, dude).

Malone’s rapping style is an acquired taste that grows more-ish if you can get used to it. And there are some high points: such as the Father John Misty hook-up ‘Myself’. But the self pity is exhausting.

4/10

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