The Underachievers - It Happened in Flatbush

Pitchfork 53

On the first verse of It Happened in Flatbush, the latest mixtape from Brooklyn-based rap group the Underachievers, Issa Gold comes for blood. “Niggas really just average, can’t sell a fucking thing/Niggas’ numbers is trash, Troy Ave would never win” he seethes, referring to an ongoing beef between Underachievers and their Pro Era associates with Troy Ave. Over cascading keys and a rattling beat that fits perfectly for a rap group co-signed by Brainfeeder, Gold and AK, the group's dual MCs, trade verses with a light-hearted yet fierce temerity, shouting out the deceased Capital Steeze of Pro Era (whom Troy Ave recently dissed) and declaring their Beast Coast collective will finish Troy off permanently.

It's an early peak. Unfortunately, it's also the most potent moment on the entire interminable run of It Happened in Flatbush, the Underachievers' first release since their 2015 album Evermore: the Art of Duality. Originally turning heads in 2013, the group seemed novel in a post-TDE/A$AP scene: A New York duo who weren't cheesy enough to insist on taking NY hip-hop back to some idealized ‘90s golden age, or desperate enough to hop the coattails of rap's latest trend. Though initially tethered to their vague mystical allusions (calling to mind ‘90s groups like Leaders of the New School) and a heady “conscious” vibe, they quickly settled into a comfortable role that didn't play up their Brainfeeder connections, or lyrically deviate all that differently from A$AP's “party and bullshit” ethos and Pro Era's nostalgia trips.

This continues on It Happened in Flatbush, which is a flat album in every way, no pun intended. None of the beats really knock, instead dutifully bopping along as the two MCs stick to forgettable, uninspired tropes about weed, women, and New York chest-thumping. For all the multi-syllabic bars about how much they're winning, It Happened in Flatbush can be dismissed with one word: joyless. There’s no spirit in any of these songs, just repetitive verses and boasts poorly anchored by weightless, mealy-mouthed hooks. One example is the penultimate track “John Lennon,” which initially matches the intensity offered by opening track “Never Win,” but ends up lumbering along instead of taking off, offering a cumbersome bridge and no thematic resolution.

Intentionally or not, too much of the tape sounds unimaginatively inspired by TDE. Issa Gold frequently lapses to a hard syllable, ratatat flow that's pure Schoolboy Q, while AK's gruff bark brings Jay Rock to mind, but you wish either could match Ab-Soul's pathos. There are nearly no memorable lines (although “I’m like LeBron/I’m like Mussolini, Genghis Khan/a leader of the town” got stuck in my mind for all the wrong reasons) or impressionable beats. Even on “Gangland,” where Issa Gold raps, “I blow weed til I collapse, every night I say I quit/but every morning I relapse,” the line doesn’t land because there’s no emotional context to place it into, no weighty dynamic that redeems all the flat “smokin’ Cali shit” talk with something that grapples with morality a little more meaningfully outside this one passive moment.

Contrast all this with the Technicolor fun of a group like the Bay Area’s Heartbreak Gang, New York's genuinely weird Doppelgangaz, or Tacoma's obscure but rewarding ILLFIGHTYOU, whose debut 2013 mixtape picked up similar buzz. It Happened in Flatbush lacks a compelling reason to listen, especially if their vaguely intriguing mystical conscious brand is what got you into them in the first place. It's a concentrated dose of rappity-rap New York stuff—fine if your patience for it runs high, but if not, likely to make you tune out.