Taking Trips with Vince

There’s something to be said for an artist’s honesty or sincerity in their work. But for Vince Staples, it’s just what it is.

I don’t write about music as much as I used to on the blog, in large part because I don’t often think about consuming the art I do as much more than that: art, music, good vibes, sometimes community. I’m always thinking about the compelling narratives Gunn or Benny or Conway craft, the sample-driven production of Ye, or the energy of an Aminé.

But this blog isn’t about what music is or isn’t supposed to do. Frankly, I know I’m tired of thinking of it and writing about it as well. I don’t really care even how to quite articulate that complex of an idea I would have in a few hundred words.

No, this blog post is just about Vince.

As a fourteen-year-old when I first heard “Norf Norf,” then playing it with my cousins from Long Beach years later, and living with my favorite genre, Vince’s always been one of the artists I enjoyed. The west coast beats, the changes in tone and flows, he reminded me of what makes music worth living with actually sounds like. But the part I would repeatedly come back to was his sincerity and bluntness in telling the world as he saw it. Seeing folks laugh at Vince clips feels weird often for me because he’s just being so unshakeably the person he is, all of the time. The music…