Albums by polarizing artists will influence social media to become a cathedral of celebration or an analytical wasteland. For example, Playboi Carti’s third studio album, Whole Lotta Red, was greeted by a digital dogpile at the stroke of midnight last Christmas. 

The hashtag #WholeLottaSkips appeared within minutes of its release. Followed by #WholeLottaMid, #WholeLottaTrash, and #WholeLottaAss, to cite a few. All expressing a visceral discontent.

One Twitter user, @Thoughtfulbae, tweeted Whole Lotta Red’s album art beside three other album covers: Yeezus by Kanye West, Testing by A$AP Rocky, and Some Rap Songs by Earl Sweatshirt. The caption read: 

"You either believe these albums are masterpieces or the worst thing the artist ever released. There's rarely any middle ground."

Her post brought to mind the book title, “You Can’t Be Neutral on a Moving Train,” by Howard Zinn.

Think of albums like locomotives: Artists are the drivers and listeners their passengers. 

No boarding passenger wishes the train goes off the rails. They want to arrive at their destination comfortably. Able to say they enjoyed the ride. 

Similarly, listeners don’t expect an album experience that will make them uncomfortable. Not from someone who has achieved cultural and commercial success.

Cultural and commercially relevant albums are great for social media discussions, creating a conglomerate of fans―engaging with the event spectacle and the actual music. 

Spectacles are built on hype in a virtual landscape. After two years of anxious anticipation, countless song leaks, and uncertain release dates, Whole Lotta Red was to be a Christmas spectacle. 

The bigger the hype, the bigger the spectacle. It's not just fans and critics listening, but anyone who wants to be a part of this online event. 

No matter if the overall consensus is positive or negative, the posts, captions, memes, and GIFs will establish an image of collective taste. 

The majority will become a rejoicing congregation, loudly shouting their praise, or a resentful mob, armed tooth and nail with torches and pitchforks. Either way, the crowd has a loudspeaker. 

I found Whole Lotta Red to be off the rails. A sunless album that unfolds solely in the dark. Where secrets are confessed in code. Where threats are said with conviction. Where danger and death dance beneath a crescent moon. 

The kind of Punk-rap that’s baptized in blood, sweat, rage, and resentment. Music made after yelling, screaming, and fighting a girlfriend, a friend, or an enemy thought to be a friend. 

If I had to guess what Whole Lotta Red means, it’s about pushing yourself toward oblivion. Where there is:

Never too much drugs, 

Never too much drank,

Never too much sex,

Never too much money,

Never too much power. 

And they had the nerve to say it wasn’t good.
 

by Yoh