A Second Chance
The Stars (Re)Align for New Album 'STAR LINE'
I have a complicated relationship with Chance the Rapper.
When I first listened to any song by Chance, it was because a girl I was interested in had mentioned him to me. She had just scored tickets to see Chance live at Memorial Coliseum on University of Kentucky’s campus for $20 (wow!) alongside a host of other students we knew. I remember feeling a little sad at not getting the hype around the rapper and missing out on a fun night out, but brushed it off as a concert I wouldn’t regret not attending.
I felt even more confident on missing my chance (bad, overused pun intended) when a dormmate showed me “Juice” by Chance, a melodic song which me and my roommate initially compared to Ice JJ Fish’s grating croon. It wasn’t much later that things flickered out between me and the girl, but I found myself growing more and more fond of Chance’s music. Even though “Juice” did not capture my attention at first, it would eventually become one of my favorites from Acid Rap — I was more drawn towards Chance’s lyrical gymnastics on songs like “Favorite Song” and “Cocoa Butter Kisses.” My increasing interest in poetry was spurned on by the cleverness of Chance’s backpack days.
The following summer in 2015, Chance released Surf with Donny Trumpet and the Social Experiment, my favorite album of that summer and an under-appreciated joint. It was a much hyped release initially rumored to be Chance’s debut but one that was met with extensive delays. It is solidly a transition between Chance’s Acid Rap lyrical devices and the newfound faith that was changing Chance’s life behind the scenes.
I should’ve paid more attention to the messaging on the very fun Surf-closer, “Sunday Candy,” because Coloring Book was a complete curveball compared to the Chance I had grown fond of in previous years. The 2016 album saw Chance embrace a very clear religious tone and content in his music in a year that saw me challenging my churchly upbringing, two factors that admittedly didn’t gel well. This is not to discredit the great moments on CB, but to underline how huge of a shift this was for Chance: he had left the drugs behind and devoted himself to Christianity and his family, which was starting to dominate his songs’ content.
There’s not much to say about The Big Day, but it validated a lot of fears I had about Chance after the success of Coloring Book — how do you stay true to your identity and also become a huge commercial success? What does a Chance TikTok song sound like (see “Hot Shower” and judge for yourself)? And where do you go when the road runs out, i.e. when your sound becomes repetitive? “Eternal” is a great song, though.
Imagine my pleasant surprise (and those of the hip-hop fans across social media) when Chance released a true stunner of an album this past Friday with STAR LINE. Named after Marcus Garvey’s Black Star Line, a shipping line that helped transport goods for African Americans (and eventually as a vessel for Pan-Africanists to travel to Africa) in the early 1900s, the album sees Chance amidst change once again. Chance visited Ghana and Jamaica, two stops on Garvey’s shipping line, and cites the countries as large influences on the album.
Perhaps the activism of Garvey is what inspired many of the themes on STAR LINE, where we see Chance return to his social justice roots in songs like “No More Old Men” (featuring longtime collaborator Jamila Woods) and “The Negro Problem” (featuring other longtime collaborator BJ the Chicago Kid). Even the fast-paced heater “Drapetomania” has the line “F*ck ICE” as a clear standout, emphasizing that Chance has embraced talking about more than just his family life (which is no longer happy-go-lucky).
Other familiar names like Young Thug, Lil Wayne, Smino, Vic Mensa, and Jay Electronica return to support Chance in his new crusade, and Chance returns to his hometown of Chicago to discuss the current political climate. He mourns his broken family on “Space & Time,” a beautiful, sprawling song with clear African influences. Chance makes it clear he hasn’t abandoned his religious material with standout song “Letters,” a track that channels the apostle Paul in his pointed takedown of fake Christians and megachurches alike — it’s a stunning and unexpected commentary on religion of which Coloring Book Chance seemed incapable.
Although far from The Big Day’s lows, there are plenty of iffy moments on STAR LINE, such as the album’s final single, “Tree.” Chance’s sing-songy delivery is extremely grating, and while there are plenty of one-liners, it never seems to capitalize on the assembled star talent. The album itself is also a little bloated, very much like TBD, spanning over an hour of music that at times feels repetitive. This is to be expected, however, after six years of recording material. It might have made more sense to split it into two projects, maybe…
While certainly a significant development in the artist’s trajectory, STAR LINE is also a return-to-form for a rapper who seemed to have lost his way, beyond the many star-studded names that helped Chance attain his fame. The latest LP is confident despite the worry that plagued the past six years, and even the album cover alludes to the anxiety he felt around releasing new music again. Chance, highlighted by the aurora borealis behind him, is turned towards the left, not confronting the viewer head-on (rather than looking up to his future in 10 Day), as if to signal apprehension. His eyes, however, gaze directly into the viewer out of the corner of his eyelids, unsure of the consumer and their response to his art, a look that is knowing and not the drugged-out stare of Acid Rap. It’s a poignant entry into his series of headshot album covers and a stiff departure from the smiling cover of Coloring Book, where Chance stares lovingly into his arms, supposedly cradling his newborn girl. STAR LINE’s cover seems to acknowledge the power struggle between artist and the patron/public that distanced him from the art form.
If Chance’s career has taught listeners anything, it’s to always offer a second chance (I swear that’s the last time I’ll use the pun). After The Big Day, me and thousands of other fans were ready to close the door on a rapper who had captured the world then left us beyond disappointed. But STAR LINE highlights the lengths that artists go to in order to reinvent themselves, as well as the ways circumstances affect the product. Returning to the single life and reembracing his heritage is partly to thank for the recovery that is STAR LINE. If Chance wasn’t clear about his return to the drawing table, just look at how he spread the word about the album: passing out copies of STAR LINE CDs from his own hands to the hands of interested fans in Chicago, the way he distributed 10 Day wayyyyy back in 2012.
Most importantly, after six long years of waiting, and a rollout that truly started in 2022 (he debuted eleven singles in anticipation of the album, of which only two made the final tracklist), STAR LINE has brought a new chapter in my relationship with Chance. It’s nice to say that his music and I are on good terms again.
What did you think of STAR LINE and where does it rank in Chance’s discography? Holler at us in the comments below!