Whenever

Rhymesayers founders Slug and Ant are remnants of a pre-internet underground hip-hop community now rapping its way through middle age. Their last few albums as the rapper-producer duo Atmosphere have centered on domesticity’s simple pleasures and stresses. *Whenever*, their surprise 10th album, pushes forward into quotidian life, making the mundane seem noteworthy. It bears the collected lessons of men who’ve weathered the storms of their youths and sound content to be settled. As the original emo rapper, Slug once self-deprecated before a cult following, but no more. “Put the sad clown flag down, but not to surrender,” he raps on “Push Play,” as he fights new battles. On “The Hands of Time,” a gloomy consideration of growing older, Slug lays out his intent: “Don’t ever misinterpret nothing ’bout what keeps me engaged/I’m tryna act my age, I’m tryna lose some weight/I’m tryna face what I’m afraid of just to prove that it’s fake.” His continued maturity and pursuit of a clearer mind result in some of his keenest songwriting about being a family man. From the morning routine bars on “Postal Lady” to the blue-collar blues of “The Ceiling,” *Whenever* is soul-sampling confessional rap from longtime masters of the form. And as they demonstrate on the title track, a posse cut with like-minded MCs Gifted Gab, Murs, and Haphduzn, they can still throw down with the best of ’em. Every now and then, even (rap) dad needs a night out.

For over 20 years, Atmosphere have pursued the underbelly of what it means to be human with a rabid curiosity. Ant’s dusky production has provided the pulse for Slug’s evolving and matter-of-fact pen. As Slug transitioned from throwing-up-in-the-backseat-raps to holding-hands-when-you-cross-the-street-raps, Ant has grown to be a master of crate digging and unearthing the humanity of a drum loop. Thriving at the intersection of guttural and self-effacing, Atmosphere will go down as some of America’s best archivists. On Whenever, the duo continue to move in lockstep. Within the minutiae lie clues they’re still struggling with mortality and the need to protect emotional energy, as on previous releases, but there’s a quiet romanticism now, with Slug sounding—reluctantly—in love with life. And no other producer can pull truths out of a rapper like Ant fishes the blues out of Slug. Be it the twinkle of “Bde Maka Ska” leading into twanging guitars, or the anxious skitter of “Lovely,” Slug finds obvious comfort in working with Ant. “Postal Lady” recounts the simplicity of Slug’s life over warm and enveloping production, while “Romance” recalls God Loves Ugly with its undulating glitches, as if we crawled through Ant’s drum machine. It’s clear the pair’s harmony is reaching new peaks. These aren’t dad-raps, these aren’t anti-establishment-raps, and these aren’t chasing-old-fire-raps. Even at its darkest (“You’re Gonna Go”) Whenever houses blessed-to-be-alive-raps. The album breathes in the way only Slug and Ant could summon a collective breath. On Whenever, the duo inhale panic and exhale greatness.