5 Takeaways From Baby Keem’s ‘Ca$ino,’ His Most Personal Album Yet

In the pantheon of recent “Up Next”s, few have had the motion of 2022 Baby Keem. Riding the momentum of a XXL Freshman selection, a dope mixtape and album, and of course status as his cousin Kendrick Lamar’s flagship Pg.Lang artist, Keem was all set to take over the game. He was everywhere. But then, all the sudden, he was nowhere.

After touring with his big cuz in 2022, Keem receded into the background for just over an undergrad career’s worth of time. Now, he’s back. His latest album, Ca$ino, has been out in the world for about 19 hours, and we’ve got some thoughts. 

Check out our five takeaways below. 

It’s Purposeful and Clutter Free

At 33 minutes, Ca$ino is the cleanest project Keem’s ever released. But brevity doesn’t mean basic. Here, every Baby Keem bar or hook folds into a pristine architecture designed for concision, emotionality, and stickiness. There’s some heavy stuff here, but the clarity of his message, and the litheness of his vocals and soundscapes make it all pretty breezy. 

He’s Been Gone for a Reason 

By now, it’s been said a trillion times, but that somehow still isn’t enough. So, a reminder: Artists have lives, too, and that doesn’t change just because Die for My Bitch or The Melodic Blue made you feel like things were still okay. Throughout the album, Keem lays out how the death of his grandmother and apparent side effects from what he says was the COVID vaccine played a role in his absence, one that had stretched almost half a decade. Baby Keem might have left fans waiting, but clearly, he had some valid reasons for being MIA. And he gets into a lot of them here…

It’s His Most Personal Album Yet

Typically, Keem raps in vignettes, distilling through bursts of occasionally witty couplets and flurries of melody. He does some of that here, but for the most part, this stuff is totally autobiographical, with tracks like “No Blame” and “I Am Not a Lyricist” being linear recountings of a troubled upbringing. The former plays out like a less wistful “Dear Mama,” with Keem forgiving his mom for drug abuse and being a largely absentee mother. Meanwhile, on “I Am Not a Lyricist,” Keem recalls his grandmother going to jail and him spending time in a group home. You can find revelations like those throughout the LP, which is svelte enough that the emotions linger like shackled memories. Keem cracked open the windows to his feelings before, but this time, he’s just shattered the glass entirely. 

The Hillbillies Don’t Miss 

Kendrick and Keem simply succeed every time they jump on a track together, with their eccentric vocal tics and general mastery of aesthetics creating seamless, propulsive bangers each time they link in the studio. That’s true here on “Good Flirt,” too — even if they slow it down. Laced with a Momo Boyd feature, this one trades electricity for serenity and warmth. But it’s no less natural, with Kendrick’s playful verse being a perfect bookend for Keem’s tender ruminations and even suppler tenor. 

He Sounds Like a Lot of People — But Somehow, Only Himself

Whether it’s his instincts as an aesthete or his production skills, there’s always been lots to like about Keem. I think his diverse vocality has always been my favorite part. He can do fluttering vintage Playboi Carti yelps and late 2010s rap-singing; 2012 Kendrick solemnity or whimsy (The fluttering tone he uses on “Ca$ino” almost sounds like his cousin on “m.A.A.d city”). On tracks like “No Blame” and “I Am Not a Lyricist,” his diction and calm tone almost sound like André 3000. A lot of guys can somewhat sound like one of these artists, but Keem swirls them into something extraterrestrial, and it only fortifies his range. With his ability to oscillate between tones and textures — syllables and enunciation patterns — he’s an unpredictable performer that can take the shape of whatever the beat needs. Whether it’s exasperation, euphoria, or solemn resignation, Keem’s tonal control will always make you feel it.