Review: Eternal Atake - Lil Uzi Vert
By Zach Zollo
In every practical sense, Eternal Atake is Lil Uzi Vert’s attempt at crafting what all canonized MCs of hip hop’s pantheon have: a classic. Since 2016, the 25-year-old Philadelphia rapper has been at the vanguard of hip hop’s SoundCloud generation, defining the sub-genre of “emo rap” with his melodic flows, high-register vocals, anguished lyrics, and infectious instrumentals. He’s a certified megastar, a beloved Internet personality, and subject of THREE of the greatest interviews Nardwuar has ever produced. With songs like “Money Longer,” “20 Min,” and the billion-times streamed “XO Tour Llif3,” Uzi will ostensibly be remembered as one of the most cherished rappers of the 2010s...and yet, not a single one of his projects can be deemed a classic due to cloying production, bloated run times, and repetitive thematics.
But a change has (mostly) come with Eternal Atake, Uzi’s most complete declaration of artistry yet. The well-documented gestation period for the record was arduous and concerning; first announced in 2018, the period leading up to its release included contract and label disputes, legal action from the two survivors of Heaven’s Gate, and a shocking “retirement” that left many fearing for Uzi’s mental health. Considering the untimely deaths of genre stars Lil Peep and Juice WRLD, it wasn’t inappropriate to assume that Uzi was heading towards a similar path of self-destruction. Thankfully, he has remained alive and healthy, and much like a mid-2000s Lil Wayne, he has developed newfound confidence by embracing how alien he truly is.
Eternal Atake is roughly divided into thirds, each section representing one of Uzi’s alter-egos. The first third is from the perspective of Baby Pluto, a persona that’s braggadocios, hedonistic and horrorcore tinged. The second third is the work of Renji, Uzi’s insightful, contemplative, and self-proclaimed “emotional” side. The final third is strictly Uzi, and includes two singles released before the album as bonus tracks - “Futsal Shuffle 2020” and “That Way.” Segmenting the album in this way has allowed Uzi to sequence it around a loose concept, innovating his sound without sacrificing consistency. However, as a consequence, the flaws of this record become more apparent.
From the opening of “Baby Pluto,” it’s clear that Uzi values the importance of #bars more so than previous projects, as his rapid, monotone flow and gangsta lyrics go against what we’ve thus far thought capable of him. These new lyrical and mechanical infatuations don’t always work to his benefit, as their run-on, breathy nature tends to come across as numbing instead of listenable. But it would be criminal to not acknowledge how perfectly Uzi matches this manic aggression with twisted, deranged, and ingenious beats. Whether it’s the murderous piano of “Silly Watch,” the warped synth and soda can opening of “POP,” or the nostalgia-drenched Microsoft Pinball sample on “You Better Move,” the instrumentals encapsulate the perils of sci-fi to the genre’s core. They serve as a perfect backdrop to Uzi’s unhinged delivery, resulting in a section that likens itself to a Danny Brown record in depravity and ambition.
As the album transitions to Renji’s section, Uzi delivers the most introspective track of his career, “I’m Sorry.” The song details the complex relationship Uzi had with Brittany Byrd, recollecting the situation deftly despite a tidbit of cringe (“I like to play with her kitten”). From a musical and lyrical standpoint, Renji’s section is unequivocally the most “emo,” fusing melancholic guitars, soulful background vocals and a depressive atmosphere with relationship troubles and soul-searching. It’s also the strongest section of the record, regardless of how frustratingly lazy the sexual lyrics can be. Ending with album highlight “Prices,” this third of the album is an eloquent testament to what Uzi does best and demonstrates a tremendous amount of artistic and personal growth.
The final third of the record, unfortunately, doesn’t end the album as well as it initially promises. It starts strong with “Urgency,” a beautiful collaboration with Syd that is one of Uzi’s best songs yet. But this section becomes the record’s most monotonous, failing to deliver compelling themes or quotables as it repeats the previous sections’ qualities in an uninspired way. It’s bizarre because despite being the only section that Uzi claims for himself, it’s the least representative of what he’s capable of. Perhaps then final track “P2,” the sequel to “XO Tour Llif3”, is a meta-commentary on what we expect of Uzi. “Everything I said/Messing with your head” seemingly details Uzi’s relationship with Byrd, but below the surface, the lyrics emanate a rebuke of his former label heads and the cult mentality of his fandom.
The arrival of Eternal Atake was anticipated with godlike proportions, and for Uzi, it may have felt as if he was becoming the product he was creating, rather than the human creating it. As a result, the implicit feeling created by this record is that of Uzi coming into his own by rejecting expectations for personal satisfaction. It’s once again akin to Lil Wayne, one of Uzi’s icons and the progenitor of records of this ilk - the kind that is brilliantly creative, surreally captivating, and undoubtedly flawed. Ultimately, while not the certified classic he intended it to be, Eternal Atake is Uzi’s finest offering yet, a cosmos-crossing odyssey that doubles as a reclamation of who he is from the forces beyond his control. I think he’d rather have it that way, anyhow.
