Mozzy - Fake Famous

Pitchfork 71

The title of Mozzy’s latest album, Fake Famous, is ambiguous. The Sacramento rapper’s star has certainly risen. He followed his prolific 2015 with an even more active 2016. YouTube hits for his music videos traffic in the millions. He’s recently appeared on releases from E-40 and Rihanna favorite Boogie. And his first album of 2017, Fake Famous, features YG, Jadakiss, and actual pop star G-Eazy. So is Mozzy fake famous or just famous? Better yet, does he want to be? The album’s compactness and consistency speak to Mozzy’s pop sensibilities, but its heavy tones and themes suggest that he has more on his mind than stardom; maybe he just hopes to earn greater renown on his own terms.

Mozzy’s greatest attribute is on full display throughout the record: He has one of the richest, most unique and elaborate vocabularies in all of hip-hop. His phrasing focuses details and brings out the poignancy in his words. A line like “I could get your flowers watered for a bronze Rollie” brilliantly emphasizes the outcomes of killing for gain, not the act. Later, on “Get Em,” Mozzy straightforwardly states that he could easily commit murder—no help needed. His attitude in both cases is the same, but it shows the measured perspective of someone who has weighed the serious consequences of a brutal situation.

Gang activity and violence are consistent throughout Mozzy’s work. Fake Famous is no exception, yet it still feels vital, which speaks to his ability as a storyteller and lyricist. Instead of providing an account with a beginning, middle, and end (à la “Meet the Flockers” or “The Art of Peer Pressure”), Mozzy tends to create micro-narratives within each song. He sometimes veers into generalities, but for the most part, he plucks out the right specifics to immerse the listener in any given moment. “Borrowed Time,” for example, stitches together admissions of a drug-addicted family with tales of driving away from cops. On “The People Plan,” he ranges from the perils of the courtroom to the church days of his youth and back to the destructive system that breeds inequality.

Mozzy’s lyrics are brought to life by his exceptional delivery and flow. His lines don’t layer double entendres like Pusha T’s or explode with vivid similes like Danny Brown’s. They’re remarkably colorful and elastic, though, full of sharp phrasing: “Throwing handles when I steer/Couple piglets in the rear/Watch the diamonds do they Dougie/I had to adjust the mirror.” He has a dexterity that works greatly to his benefit, but also his detriment: When nearly every line is high quality, and they connect seamlessly, few pop out.

Fake Famous does not aim to have a breakout single, but it is a relative shift toward accessibility for Mozzy. Ironically, the G-Eazy and YG-featuring “Hold on Me” is lackluster compared to more effortless pop swings like “Scorin.” Still, G-Eazy’s slower, easier-to-follow verse highlights what Mozzy is unwilling (or unable) to do to cater to more casual fans: Let his foot off the gas. Of course, Mozzy is not trying to land on a song with Britney Spears. But particularly when he hands off hook duties (to Iamsu!, Lex Aura, and Bobby Luv), crossover potential is evident. Fake Famous is the best he’s done in translating his talents to a more conventional format. But Mozzy’s mindset remains the same as ever: He’s mired in a troubled past and present that define him. He may never be a superstar, but he is very close to what others could consider real fame. It seems to be his choice not to reach that so-called pinnacle.