I remember JID from back in the day, say 2015 or so. He hung with the new hot Atlanta duo named EarthGang. They had a Mac Miller feature on their EP Torba. That alone boosted their names on the blog circuit. JID appeared on the last track, “Sunday,” where his lucid, slow-burning flow sounds weightless enough to rise off the beat like smoke rising from a backwood. 

The whispery wordsmith was new in a scene already under surveillance by major labels. ILoveMakonnen went to OVO. Playboi Carti joined A$AP Rocky. Ear Drummers picked up Two-9. 21 Savage chose Epic. OG Maco aligned with QC. Almost every buzzing artist had joined an imprint. This context is well documented, but it’s easy to forget how the emerging talent out of Atlanta was spread wide, touching the industry from various corners, including JID and EarthGang after signing with Dreamville and Interscope Records. 

JID was in year four of the deal when we shot his Rap Portrait. By then The Never Story, DiCaprio 2, Spilligion, and the Revenge of the Dreamers 3 compilation had earned him the core fanbase of a budding cult leader. What happened next would be determined by a long delayed album yet to have a release date. He played us the intended outro, a autobiographical retelling of his intricate path from injured collegiate athlete to meeting J. Cole.

Due to issues with sample clearance, “2007” doesn’t close The Forever Story like he envisioned, but as a body of work, JID’s latest album encapsulates a transformative twist of faith that could only happen in hip hop: Where every fairy tale outcome begins with a charred body crawling out of a personal hell.

As a sequel, The Forever Story feels like a proper sophomore. Where The Never Story, his Dreamville debut, wore it’s hunger on each sleeve, his follow-up refines and reflects. Building further on the family roots that brought him out of Atlanta and how his surroundings and lifestyle dynamics shaped a vivid worldview. JID picks up each domino that fell for him to arrive here, without excluding the people who played a part and the feelings produced by every action and the reactions that followed.  

Family brawls, brotherly love, sisterly affection, it’s all documented, painted with a brush inked in details to shade each song as a memorable fragment from his life. The world building doesn’t break character, driving home that he wasn’t cherry-picking tracks to please a crowd, but selecting records with the purpose of completing a character arc. Reminding me of a scene from his Rap Portrait that didn’t make the documentary:

“Yoh: Do you have any fears now?

JID: Fears? What you mean? Mortal things? What level of fears are we talking about?Yoh: Are you afraid of clowns?

JID: Fuck no. I don’t like snakes like that, ugh, like real snakes.I fuck with the slimes, slatt. Shout out Thug.

We laugh. He pauses, still pondering the question. 

JID: Fears… If I don’t get all this information out my body. Now that I know where I’m at right now and what I can do, if something happens where I don’t get a chance to express everything in me, that’s a fear. But I think I’m doing a good job at living, at getting ideas out.” 
The Forever Story is JID’s best version of getting ideas out. Updating the arsenal of tools and talents that made him an exciting new rapper, evolving into a well-rounded artist sharing a story worth telling. If I had to pitch one song, play the Lil Durk-featured “Bruddanem” or the Yasiin Bey-featured “Stars.” Even if you don’t give him a listen, it’s fine, I know God did.

-Yoh