Outside of Marc Maron, there aren’t many celebrities that I begin to approach a traditional parasocial relationship with. The one exception may be Danny Brown, whom I first discovered through Spin Magazine when his gap-toothed mug was promoting “XXX” and presenting this alternative side of rap that blew my mind. It was a familiar story of excess, but it also had traces of insight buried underneath the addiction and hangovers that created some banging beats. It would be easy to go down the line and highlight every song that struck me as innovative, but that would be to miss the real reason that Danny has come to mean a lot to me.
Yes, I do regard him as a top-notch rapper who has produced consistent work over the past 15 years. However, his music isn’t exactly what drew me to the parasocial. Like most celebrities, he started a podcast, aptly titled The Danny Brown Show. At first, you listen out of curiosity to what makes this guy stand out among the competition, though it didn’t take long to realize how much more interesting, more personal this was than your typical self-promotional shill that overwhelms the media landscape. Sure, Danny was promoting a ton of stuff over the years, but it was closer to a hangout hour than needing to grovel for attention. You were there to hear him riff and get gleeful about the weirdest (or sometimes dumbest) sides of pop culture.
It makes no sense to be obsessed with a musician who recently crossed into their 40s and is currently asking fans to spend less time online. However, I think that’s where the years of investment come in, where suddenly my praise of his latest album “Stardust” becomes intertwined with the narrative that he’s built. The way I smile at every optimistic bar isn’t necessarily suggesting that this is on par with Clipse’s latest. Far from it. There is a dexterity to Danny’s flow that remains infectious. But this is far from the mad scientist concoction known as “Scaring the Hoes.” This may win over fans who love the hyperpop-leaning production and the inclusive roster of appearances from LGBTQIA+ friendly groups like Underscores, Jane Remover, and 8485. In a genre that once found openly gay artist Lil Nas X asking why no male rappers would feature on his debut “Montero,” it’s amazing to see Danny stand up and support the art that truly drives him.
But for as much as the studio recording of “Copycats” completes an arc that kicked off when I lost my mind during Danny’s cameo at Underscores’ gig at Coachella, there’s so much more to why “Stardust” will go down as a personal favorite. It’ll take some time before I ever see it on par with what came before, but more than anything, I see an artist who has found the breakthrough that he’s been seeking for decades now. It’s not one of fame, but something even more internal. It’s the reminder of why art is more about self-expression than anything resembling chart numbers. In the case of Danny’s story, this is the sigh of relief you have after he trash-talked rehab on “Atrocity Exhibition” and had a career flameout when “Uknowwhatimsayin?” was released in the dead zone known as 2020. This is after hearing him open his heart about getting sober and worrying that his career would be over, that he would no longer be as interesting as when he sang such party jams as the unsubtle “Smokin’ and Drinkin’.” This is what not giving up brings you.
For as much as inspirational stories as a concept feel manufactured, there is something about Danny’s that continues to resonate. Unlike most performers whose bravado is tacked onto a public image, there has been a sense of creative transparency shining through Danny’s entire work since “XXX.” He may be occasionally inappropriate, but he always brought it back to his story of growing up in Detroit and learning to survive. He’s allowed himself to question how his upbringing has impacted his current path.
One compares “Stardust” to his last record, “Quaranta,” and you can see the growth unfold in just how he talks about himself. Even if I think “Quaranta” provides more emotional investment, it’s not hard to recognize the uncertainty of a man, then in his late 30s, having to question what is left for him. There’s some downright somber tracks on the back half, and it makes it easily his most mature to date. At the same time, in hindsight, it now felt like the necessary exorcising of demons to make any breakthrough. It wasn’t the sexiest record to come out that year, but it was the perfect example of how to age as an artist with dignity in a genre known for flash-in-the-pan youth culture.
“Stardust” is powerful because of the artists he’s collaborated with. As someone who has always been supportive of newcomers, he’s one of the rare rappers to openly embrace new sounds and even promote queer culture in a geeky way. To see that Underscores is on here twice feels like an eyeroll after hearing him preach the gospel of “Wallsocket” for close to two years now. Even Frost Children have appeared on his podcast multiple times. He’s eager to prop these artists up in hopes of bettering both of their careers, and it’s downright charming. I understand that, socially, rap has addressed parts of its problematic past, but it still feels like the unity isn’t always there in practice. Not with Danny. If he digs your style, you best expect three minutes to shine.
Though the subtext goes further than simply being one of the most popular hyperpop nerds not named Charli XCX. To hear him describe rehab is to notice how the genre helped him through recovery. He specifically emphasized 100 Gecs as being his soundtrack for the time, and I think this detail is why I am delighted for every record skip and high-pitched synthesizer. It’s not necessarily new to his playbook, but the execution definitely is. Given that I’ve always found hyperpop to be great because of how it subverts pop-punk standards and (in the process) a commentary on pop structure, it’s thrilling to have somebody who’s always existed on the fringes making “Copycat” into a track that rides the line between parodic and sincere reflection of his life on the road and needing to embrace the glamor.
If anything, “Stardust” is the closest that Danny has come to sounding like he’s having fun, period. Despite the allure of his booze-soaked past, this is the victory lap that is more designed to please those who see the bigger picture. He’s not out to start feuds. There’s no showboating for the sake of showboating. He's a performer who has finally found clarity. There was no guarantee that his life would’ve ended this positively even five years ago. Instead, the joy in his voice as he recounts how happy he is serves more as affirmation, encouragement for others to get back up if they have fallen over.
I’m aware that this “review” doesn’t really have any key breakdowns that a critique usually has. Where’s the euphoria of the opener “The Book of Daniel,” which bridges the dourness of “Quaranta” to the present? Where’s the examples of production catching me off guard, leading me to gleefully recognize this hyperpop gambit actually paid off? I’m not going to lie, there’s a lot of new artists I discovered through “Stardust,” including Issbrokie’s roundhouse kick of a verse on “Whatever the Case,” and I feel great that others will catch on too. I recognize the genre doesn’t have a lot of clout in 2025, but that only makes Danny’s willingness to go full tilt all the more commendable. I love how he even pushes his sound to more ambitious lengths with “The End.” If anyone with the least bit of commercial prospects gets inspired by this record, then I’ll be through the roof ecstatic.
Deep down, this record maybe only works for me because of how much I’ve invested in Danny’s story. I don’t wish to discredit the artistry and effort that clearly shine, but there are certain feelings I have that only emerge because I tie them to a larger story. The way he’s blending self-actualization with the artificial and sometimes satirical sheen of his soundscapes is provocative. This is an artist with the talent to follow his passion no matter what the other 40-year-olds are doing. This isn’t a chance to mellow out. If anything, it’s time to go for broke and bring as many people with you on one hell of a fun trip.
Given how dark the year has been, it’s surprising to hear a record this optimistic in the world, especially from the man who not too long ago was mourning what was lost. Like all narratives, it’s easy to get nervous about things unseen. It’s different from routine and challenges a lot of what’s defined our entire existence. In some way, “Stardust” is both personally and sonically a tribute to that way of thinking. It’s only when you take those risks and try to live a more fulfilling life that new truths emerge. If this is the start of Danny’s new era, I’m all for it. For now, I’ll just press replay and appreciate how much this record feels like your friend finally breaking through and finding inner peace. It’s a beautiful sight unlike any other. Thankfully, he’s still as delightful and weird as ever before.
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