Isaiah Rashad releases “The House Is Burning”

Isaiah Rashad exudes a unique sense of mystique, akin to artists like Frank Ocean and Kendrick Lamar. Few can release an album that garners critical acclaim and widespread admiration, only to vanish without a hint of new music for five years.

Yet, Isaiah Rashad is not your typical artist.

The 30-year-old rapper from Tennessee distinguished himself among his labelmates at Top Dawg Entertainment by delivering tracks that were both vulnerable and introspective, infused with a genuine appreciation for Southern Hip Hop. This unique blend allowed even his most heart-wrenching confessions to seamlessly accompany a car ride.

One of Rashad's most underrated qualities is how he comes across as a brother, cousin, or neighbor. While listeners may connect with Kendrick Lamar and ScHoolboy Q songs, there often remains a disconnect due to differences in upbringing or their current superstar statuses. However, Rashad lacks that unapproachable aura. He converses with the listener as if they were old friends catching up after years apart.

Nevertheless, his perfectionist tendencies came at a price, entangled with unresolved traumas and trapped in a harrowing cycle of alcoholism and depression. The situation reached a breaking point, leading to a stint in rehab after depleting all his funds and seeking help from TDE founder Anthony 'Top Dawg' Tiffith.

After engaging in profound reflection and introspection, Rashad eventually found solace by channeling his energy into collecting comic books, with his favorite being Tom King’s Mister Miracle—a narrative centered around acknowledging one's traumas and striving to move forward in reality. Simultaneously, he rediscovered a renewed passion for music. Now clean and focused, Rashad has emerged from the depths with "The House Is Burning," an album crafted to steer him back on course.

"The House Is Burning" serves as an allegory for Rashad's life. Faced with a metaphorical blazing house, the album poses the question: in such a crisis, should one salvage as many possessions as possible or embark on a fresh start? Throughout the album, Rashad grapples with this notion, reflecting on his time in rehab, confronting traumas, battling depression, and most poignantly, contemplating his mortality. Yet, the profundity of these themes can be easily overlooked, given the album's laid-back sound, almost as if Rashad is the dog sipping coffee in the meme while everything around him is ablaze. The beauty of "The House Is Burning" lies in its versatility—it can be as profound as the listener desires, while also serving as the perfect soundtrack for joyriding on the highway.

Notable moments in the latter part of the album include "What U Sed," seemingly crafted for Saturday pregame playlists and tailgating on a sweltering summer day in the South. Despite its energetic vibe, the track also carries a hazy, dreamlike atmosphere, enhancing its accessibility. The breakout performance by Florida rapper/singer DOECHII is instrumental in holding the song together, with her brief but catchy "drunk on a Saturday" refrain destined to be echoed during day drinks across the country.

While this album boasts its share of feel-good tracks, Rashad leans towards blending southern bounce with a laid-back delivery. In "Chad," an homage to the late UGK rapper Pimp C, Rashad finds himself in his element, delivering a relaxed yet direct nod to Pimp C's iconic Mercedes line from JAY-Z and UGK’s classic “Big Pimpin.” He enlists fellow Tennessean YGTUT, whose verse channels the spirit of Bun B. Another Southern-inspired track is "RIP Young," featuring a sample of Project Pat's standout “Cheese And Dope.” Here, Rashad exudes a cool and commanding presence as he raps about hotboxing in the car, pulling donuts, and the thrill of living dangerously.

The album's focal points, however, are "Don’t Shoot," where Rashad delves into his mortality, rapping about the mistreatment of Black people in the South and the dark struggle with depression that leads people to contemplate ending their lives, all while hoping suicide doesn't inflict pain. The title track sheds light on Rashad's battle with addiction as a renowned rapper. He intricately describes the tour lifestyle, sounding inebriated, engulfed in excess, and driven to seek substances as a coping mechanism.

"Chain swingin', still empty, damn it. Hoes choosin', still empty, forget 'em. I don't even like Henny, forget it," he utters with a melancholic acceptance, yielding to the pitfalls of his dependency and the pressures of the rap lifestyle.

Despite the album's positive aspects, there are some issues that may not be immediately apparent. While there are no outright bad tracks and the album boasts seamless mixing, Rashad's delivery can come across as excessively laid-back at times.

In certain songs, like "Claymore," it feels more like a showcase for Smino rather than an Isaiah Rashad track. The impeccably produced "Score" by Kenny Beats showcases one of the best features from SZA in a while and a surprisingly lively 6LACK, yet Rashad seems to take a backseat and lacks a noticeable presence in comparison.

Rashad appears to find comfort in familiar influences and a set of techniques he's known for, rather than pushing for a new era. Although everything sounds impressive, given his current career stage, listeners recognize his potential to deliver more. However, considering what he has endured over the past five years, it's understandable. While he may not have undergone substantial artistic growth, the newfound freedom in his music is apparent and welcomed by his audience.

The concluding track, "HB2U," wraps up the album on a hopeful note. Rashad reflects on his past mistakes, expressing a desire not to replicate his father's path and break free from the cycle of familial PTSD. He vocalizes a yearning for retribution, addressing an unnamed entity—possibly an allusion to how alcoholism, depression, and addiction have disrupted his life and robbed him of time. With a rhetorical question, "If you don't ever get yourself straight, who the heck are you gonna help, man?" Rashad seems to conduct an internal intervention.

Through this introspection, he arrives at acceptance. In the latter part of the track, Rashad questions whether the energy he invested in escapism through drugs could have been better utilized in caring for his family and savoring life. Repeated like a mantra, "You are now a human being," signifies Rashad's ultimate acceptance of what he cannot control and his acknowledgment that while his scars may never completely heal, they will eventually fade.

"The House Is Burning" accomplishes precisely what it sets out to do: it enables Rashad to shake off the cobwebs, returning to the Southern sound he deeply admires. Simultaneously, it serves as a testament to listeners that he hasn't lost a step in his musical prowess.

I would give this album 3 out of 4 stars.