I get it, though. Many of French’s greatest moments took place so long ago: Obama was still in his first term, LeBron hadn’t even gone to the Heat yet, and American Idol was still the biggest show on television. French hasn’t done himself any favors either. He hasn’t had a memorable verse since A$AP Ferg’s “Work” remix, where he rapped about an ass that you could park 10 Tahoes on, and even his standout tracks of the last half decade are strong despite of him and not because of him: “No Shopping” is only notable for the Drake guest appearance; “Lockjaw” is essentially a Kodak Black song; and French’s verses on the Swae Lee-dominated “Unforgettable” are so bad the PNB Rock remix became a hit.
French has become the ultimate trend-hopper, so shameless that, earlier this year, he attached his name to New York drill pretender CJ’s abysmal debut EP and recruited him to his Coke Boys imprint. In January, he also debuted a single called “Hot Boy Bling” with Jack Harlow and Lil Durk that might make you wish you had ear plugs on hand (and question if French now has a painted-on Carlos Boozer beard).
Then, late last week, he put down a verse on the solid new Benny the Butcher record that’s somehow below his current extremely low standards. “My lawyer Jewish, bond Muslim, shoes Christian,” raps a sleepy French, delivering the worst guest feature on an album that also includes Fat Joe peddling Trump rhetoric.
But, despite it all, I still want to defend French. If you were in a New York City public school during his rise in the city, his music probably soundtracked your life. Outsiders might say things like “he can’t really rap” or “he’s carried by production,” and both criticisms have some truth, but it doesn’t diminish the fact that those old tapes, singles, and DVD monologues sound as fresh today as they did when they first hit. (My heart even flutters a little whenever I hear the Evil Empire tag.) If anything, a new French Montana verse, no matter how excruciating it may be, is more than just a source of jokes or a beam of nostalgia, but a reminder to throw one those essentials back in rotation. So go ahead, boo me like they did Drake at Camp Flog Gnaw, but it will take more than embarrassing verses and endless trend-chasing to get me to abandon my support of French Montana’s music—even though it gets harder every day.
The top five remixes of Coi Leray’s “No More Parties”
One of the most inescapable rap songs of the year comes courtesy of the overly energetic New Jersey rapper Coi Leray. The incredibly catchy “No More Parties” has become a mainstay on TikTok, where people either dance to it or coo along with her. For the last month, at the most random times throughout the day, I’ll catch myself reciting, “Bitch, pull up in that mhm/It’s so mhm/They ask, how I get that ooh?” I must not be the only person this is happening to, because every day there’s a new singing rapper with a remix. It’s not slowing down. So let’s rank the top five so far.
The official remix features Lil Durk, who is everywhere, and it’s solid (though I prefer the original). Honestly it only made this list because Durk sings, “I gave you money through the pandemic when you was just stuck in the house,” as if he gives his girlfriend personal stimulus checks.
4) F.S Rudy
Each one of these remixes has a different mood. Some are melancholy, some are optimistic, but F.S Rudy just sounds angry. The Columbus, Georgia rapper’s voice is scratchy and rough, which is a switch up compared to the sweet-sounding melodies that populate so many other versions. This would probably rank higher if not for the line when he wails, “I was eatin’ all through the pandemic so I ain’t got no choice but to shit,” followed by him imitating a fart sound.
The piano melody on “No More Parties” is perfect for humble reflections, which also makes it suited for laid-back Atlanta rapper K Camp. “I ain’t ever have no co-sign from Ye or JAY or Drake or Dre/But I’m him, I’m straight,” he says, like he’s having a casual conversation.
On “For My Fans (Freestyle),” Polo G lays down three of his typically dense and somber verses on several of the year’s most passed around beats: CJ’s “Whoopty,” Spottemegottem’s “Beatbox,” and, lastly, “No More Parties.” I’m always impressed at how the Chicago rapper swings from heavy-hearted croons to drill tough talk, and also the way he can say something bluntly while still sounding poetic. “Like I got survivor’s guilt from my past, I’m always runnin’,” he raps, inimitable even when he’s this straightforward.
1) Reese Youngn
With apologies to Coi Leray, this song now belongs to Reese Youngn. The Pittsburgh rapper sounds like the love of his life ended things by blocking him on social media mere seconds before he went into the booth. I’ve never heard someone put so much emotion into making a car sound effect.
The trap corrido style blends the sounds of traditional Mexican balladry and popular rap. “Mexican kids are growing up with trap music in the South,” said professor Jennifer Jones about the growing movement in a 2019 Times story. “They’re fusing those two pieces of their lives, growing up in Black neighborhoods, and are attentive to how Black culture has shaped the South and are also a part of a new wave of Latino settlement in these places.”
