Throughout 2023, there have been few people I have enjoyed following as much as Danny Brown. As I mentioned in an earlier post discussing “Atrocity Exhibition,” I am a fan of his openness and clarity along with his ability to dig into the weird recesses of his imagination. The Danny Brown Show is one of my current favorite podcasts and both “Scaring the Hoes” and “Quaranta” are albums that rank highly on my end-of-year list. To say the least, if you judged Brown solely on his output, he would still be a considerable force. I love that he’s someone who has only continued to challenge his creativity and produce arguably some of the most cohesive work in his career.
But why Danny Brown? There are hundreds of artists annually who do something that makes you raise an eyebrow and take notice. What makes him any different from other notable 2023 standouts like Billy Woods? Besides the fact that I have been a fan since discovering “XXX” in my early 20s, I have noticed a transparency in him this year that is unlike anything that I’ve seen elsewhere. Given that I find vulnerability an attractive feature, experiencing the growth that he’s made between January and December alone is inspirational.
I’ll start at some point in between. In the week leading up to the release of his JPEGMAFIA collaboration, Brown was seen performing a concert where he announced that he was entering rehab. While the footage has a sense of evasiveness, often breaking into jokes, there is the reality of an individual coming to terms with his personal life and even legacy. There was the concern that he wouldn’t be “the fun one” anymore. Maybe he’d lose his personality and become so boring that his whole career would be deemed useless. Given that this was done in tandem with one of his biggest songs, “Smokin & Drinkin,” the revelations couldn’t be clearer for how difficult things would be. Even as he tried to recount the lyrics, he fell apart while realizing that so much was about to change.
Even in Brown’s honesty, he’s someone who has discussed drug consumption with some regularity. He couldn’t simply put on a concert and not be reminded of his past. That’s one of the most cathartic and damaging sides of being an artist. On the one hand, he needed to tap into the darkness to make a masterpiece like “Atrocity Exhibition.” Even if that album ends with a sense of optimism, there’s the reality that you know with all your heart that Brown has things he is working through.
Placing that on the timeline of his podcast is a bit difficult for me. Whereas I’m sure his YouTube recordings go up live, there is a few weeks delay for podcast feeds which means I’m hearing developments late. Even then, it helps to place Brown’s progress on a more gradual and recognizable timeline.
If you go back to January or February, you are likely to find him a bit more candid and erratic. To some extent, it’s easy to get caught up in that energy because Brown is a natural storyteller. He’s able to dive into personal stories and make the embarrassing beats funny. Hearing him talk about living in Austin, TX, and his childhood in Detroit, MI provides so much joy on a week-to-week basis. I can take him making a few too many off-hand remarks. Yes, those months got downright crass, and maybe Brown wasn’t picking up decency cues. However, I didn’t think much about how irrational it might come across. Was I concerned? Not exactly. Brown was in his 40s. He knew what he was doing.
Ask any fan of the podcast what episode stands out the most from 2023, and I guarantee a large majority will mention the final Pre-Rehab show. Having just done a bender, Brown sat before his guest and became brutally serious. Rarely has someone been that vulnerable and concerned about their own future. The questions around whether he’d still be talented as a sober musician abounded. If there was humor, it was secondary. There was fear in his voice. How could the man who called himself “The Adderall Admiral” on “XXX” give up debauchery? Like most addicts, it’s a story that could go one of two ways. Either it works and we see where Brown goes, or suddenly things get worse.
Given that there would be a later tour with JPEGMAFIA, it was easy to argue that the road ahead wouldn’t be easy. After all, how many road stories have there been throughout the past 50 years of people tearing apart hotel rooms and getting blitzed beyond recognition? To JPEGMAFIA’s credit, he is someone who cares about his friends. Even if “Scaring the Hoes” was a chaotic amalgamation of ideas, there is a sense of kinship that they’d protect each other at all costs. As far as what Brown has said, any concern about a fan slipping a vial or stopping by the liquor store was nonexistent, and I commend those in his immediate circle for helping him on this journey.
With all of this said another thing that Brown fans have noticed is the difference between “Scaring the Hoes” and his solo album “Quaranta.” With behind the scenes videos posted on YouTube, you were able to see Brown recording the first album in a mixed state. Even if I still argue it’s some of his most wondrously delirious, it was clear that sometimes he was not able to give his all. Part of it was growing old but it could also be intoxication, slowing his cadence and making it difficult to stand with stamina. If I had to make an excuse for any faults, I’d argue it was one of those exorcism moments where he got out the final gasps of the party lifestyle and was preparing for the clean life that lay on the other side.
Everyone knew that “Scaring the Hoes” was coming out this year. “Quaranta” was less certain. It serves as an apt metaphor for his journey from this point. When Brown exited rehab, there was optimism and hope that things were beginning to make sense. I’m not too scholarly on what exactly changed in him, but suddenly there were more personal stories about his past. He was also more hopeful and curious about the world. A lot of the evasive humor that defined February was gone. He was mentally sharper. Maybe it could’ve just been that he had a busy schedule after years of stagnation, but he finally felt like things were working out.
A handful of details from here resonate with me on a personal level. On top of just enjoying his perspective on life, I found his candidness to reveal ways that he was connecting with his fans. During this year, he’s discussed how 2020 took a toll on his mental health. His album, “Uknowwhatimsayin,” came out without any fanfare or any way to build success. The years since have been a bit of an exile even if he’s taken the odd collaboration here and there. It makes sense to worry that releasing another album would just be a waste of time. After all, rappers weren’t supposed to “grow old.” They were supposed to be young and vital, appealing to a lifestyle that Brown was evidently wanting to give up.
I think it’s also there in “Quaranta,” which was an album that his label had postponed releasing. He was encouraging listeners to write them and get things moving. By some luck, it became a late year favorite of mine and quickly resonated with fans. Given that I turned 34 this year, I’ve had days of existential crisis about where my life is headed. Something about reaching my Mid-30s – especially in the wake of a post-pandemic world – has made me question my overall relevancy in this world.
Another reason to admire Brown is that he’s self-aware and autobiographical enough to make music that speaks to who he was at the time. “Quaranta” (Italian for the number 40) is considered a spiritual sequel to “XXX” (or 30). A thing that made “XXX” more than a profane record of insanity was Brown’s artistry to comment on the pain that lay underneath addiction. With “Quaranta,” there is a sense of slowing down. He’s nowhere near as springy as he used to be, and there are songs where he raps with a melancholic force that I haven’t heard him use before. Some songs are absolute fun, but to call this a party record would be to miss the point altogether.
As much as it’s a celebration of life, it’s a self-reflective record that proves the vital nature of honesty. There are only so many years where you can outrun your flaws before they take a toll on your body. Listening to “Quaranta,” there are stories that paint a picture of regret as well as the small caveats that come with sobriety. Brown always claimed that this was the record he wanted to release. If he randomly died, this is the best way to know who he was at the time. As a writer who believes that art is a conversation with the artist, I don’t think anyone has opened the door and let me sit and chat with them as much as Brown has in 2023. I know there are probably more interactive and transparent personalities out there, but what Brown was doing this year is genuine and powerful.
Part of me can’t help but wonder if Brown sees his place in rap history in light of a greater marketing push. This past summer was billed as “50 Years of Hip-Hop.” Everywhere you looked, the genre was being celebrated and discussed with a newfound appreciation. It’s a good chance to think of the pioneers and where they are today. For Brown personally, he often brought up the fact that Nas was 50 and still putting out amazing music with “Magic 3.” Whereas there used to be an age limit, there was suddenly a belief that there was a market for musicians who were genuine enough to keep challenging themselves, or even mix things up. After all, Andre 3000 released a 90-minute flute album after a nearly two-decade absence. The directions were endless.
Together, “Scaring the Hoes” and “Quaranta” feel like two sides of the same coin. We got the joy and sadness coexisting within the same artist. Even if Brown ultimately seems like a man who is searching for happiness, his ability to funnel his trauma into his art in a productive manner is beautiful. I may never go through half the things that he has. I may never even reach half the level of fame that he currently has. What I can say is that because of 2023, I feel connected to him as a creator unsure if there’s a future for me. When you put so much of your soul into your work, every failure is too much. Having two of your best albums come out in a single year is an achievement, and I want to say congratulations.
But yes, I conclude where I probably will be in the weeks to come. As Brown plans the next phase of his career, I will be there enjoying his opinion. There’s something comforting in knowing that not only has sobriety been a net positive for him, but he seems to be reaching a new creative peak. I’m sure there’s even more on the horizon, and I look forward to seeing what he produces. To me, this is the only way the Danny Brown story could’ve gone. As someone who sang about digging himself out of a hole several times, I want to know what he sees from above now that he’s finally out. I’m sure it’ll be something sweet.
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