
On Music…
We recently hit two years of East Atlanta Love Letter, the sophomore album from Atlanta R&B singer “with a hip-hop core,” 6LACK. Released on September 14, 2018, EALL follows 2016’s Free 6LACK as a chilly display of what alt-R&B and brooding can become when blended by a true master of the form. From the cover to the writing, EALL was a less fiery affair than Free 6LACK. In place of anger, though, we got real laments and dispatches from 6LACK, who I affectionately call Bear, about the state of his love life. The album pulses with honesty. The blood of EALL is infused with truth. Two years on, the record feels fresh as ever.
The release timing of East Atlanta Love Letter tells us 6LACK is an extremely self-aware man. To drop an album with such a—not exactly somber—vexed soundscape as fall approaches is to encourage us to live with the record. As it gets colder, the beats on EALL hit harder. The writing becomes more incisive. We open with the dour swirl of “Unfair,” which melts effortlessly into “Loaded Gun.” EALL sets itself up to be an experience of an album. Fourteen tracks worth of deep thinking and regrets. It’s brilliant to drop this genre of music as it teeters on cold, because we get to allow EALL to marinate as winter eventually sets in, wherein this music is in its prime.
I have very vivid memories of aimlessly driving down a dark highway in New Jersey while East Atlanta Love Letter played. The twists and turns of the road seemed to adapt themselves to the curves of the beats 6LACK chose. I don’t remember exactly what I was feeling as I was taking each bend and anxiously hoping to avoid cops, but I do remember being amazed by how seamlessly 6LACK’s music worked its way into the task at hand. If we’re being honest, I felt like I was in a music video. Good music should always place you there, and 6LACK is the king of immersion.
We all know the story, by now, of 6LACK coming from humble beginnings as an artist, of his not being celebrated until years into his career. Now that Bear is beloved, I think often of his conversation with Yoh, wherein he said: “I’m still very, very hungry. We’ve figured out more, we’ve accomplished more, but this shit has only changed more. I’m only facing more shit and I only want to do more; I only want to learn more. We haven’t finished anything. This shit is just starting; this is still chapter one for me.”
Hunger is the keyword. Hunger is why East Atlanta Love Letter is such an immersive and damn near flooding experience. It arrests the senses slowly over time, and before you know it, you’re submerged in 6LACK’s world as if it were your own. Despite success from his debut, 6LACK never once sounds lazy on EALL. Instead, he sounds dedicated to getting it right a second time. He sounds focused and he sounds like this all matters to him. Perhaps this album was not as dire to realize as Free 6LACK, but it plays just as well-crafted.
Beneath the aching cold of this album, too, we have penultimate track, “Seasons.” The warmest cut 6LACK has ever produced, “Seasons” brings a tear to my eye because of how bare 6LACK positions himself. Even the J. Cole-assisted “Pretty Little Fears” features some distancing in the form of boasts and declarations of being an Eastside loverboy. On “Seasons,” though, there is no fronting. 6LACK does not give himself anything or any posturing to hide behind. Quietly, “Seasons” is the greatest evolution of Bear on the East Atlanta Love Letter journey. We can only imagine what comes next.
People love Bear for his authenticity and his lovelorn sound. 6LACK sounds like a weathered love note from a bygone era. He could very well be a page from Virgnia Woolf’s diary, how expressive he is with language, and how little he shies away from feelings other would be too proud to express. 6LACK is one of the most developed and exciting acts in the genre of modern R&B. He joins the ranks of SZA as someone who speaks for a generation lost and hoping to be found. He speaks for a generation broken and unsure if they want to be repaired. 6LACK is for the people, simple as that.