Midway through his verse on “Churchill Downs,” Jack Harlow makes one thing clear to his fans and haters alike: “Everybody know Jack, but they don't know Jack, man.” On one hand, it’s a mildly clever nod to his full name, Jackman. Perhaps unbeknownst to him, it was also a hidden irony: Jack Harlow didn’t really know Jackman either. At least artistically.
The track was on his second official album, Come Home The Kids Miss You, which by all accounts is a lame Drake impression. His best attempt at making this work is “Churchill Downs,” but even then, actually rapping alongside Drizzy made the difference in talent and flatout charisma more jarring.
After getting critically panned for the release, Jack returned a year later with Jackman, a backpacker-leaning LP that included flashes of pristine technique and some cheesy concept songs fit for some of the more annoying, but earnest parts of the blog era. That one got mixed reviews, but I liked it. Still, the switch-up was pretty shocking. Turns out, his next act was even more so.
Through four major label albums, Jack Harlow’s pulled up with three completely different sounds, with his latest being Monica, an LP that’s got fans saying he went Soulquarian. Is that true? Let’s see.
Here are our five quick takeaways from the album.
‘Monica’ Feels Like the Result of an Identity Crisis. A Rewarding One.
Titled after the legendary mononymous R&B songstress, it was almost clear this one was going to be an R&B-leaning release. Still, no one really saw him leaving the bars completely behind. When he began making national waves about 12 years ago, Jack was a spitter who was nerdy enough to shout out CyHi The Prynce on wax. Now, he’s out here sounding like Robin Thicke without the vocal chops. And I don’t even mean that as an offense; some of these tracks… they kinda go to be honest.
Still, it’s a completely different sonic trajectory from the one we expected on the Fergie-sampling track “First Class” or the buoyant “Lovin On Me.” This is his second abrupt shift in the last four years. The first was from White Drizzy to White Backpacker. Now, whatever exactly this is. The abruptness of it all makes it feel like Jack is pretty unsettled on exactly who he wants to be — which seems unprecedented for someone who’s already been a rap star for a half-decade. I have a lot of questions about this album and Jack in general, but the biggest one is, WTF is he going to do next?
His Transparency About Its Origin Is Refreshing
So Jack switched his style up, and not for the sake of watching the money pile up. How’d we get here? Jack Harlow himself gave a little insight during an appearance on The New York Times’ Popcast.
“I’d been recording a project for two years after [the 2023 album] Jackman, and it wasn’t exciting me,” he explained to Popcast hosts Jon Caramanica and Joe Coscarelli. “I took a few weeks off, because I was getting to the point where I was dreading going to the studio. And I thought about, what do I actually want to do? What would intrigue me?”
That answer turned out to be muted R&B. Interestingly, even though he’s a guy who’s rapped since he was a small child, Jack’s occasionally been hit with the requisite culture vulture accusations. He is, after all, a white man. So then, it is a bit ironic that he ended up kinda doing what white rappers have done when their typical raps aren’t what’s poppin’: make white music. See Jelly Roll and Machine Gun Kelly. Or even folks who just did it to do it like Post Malone. It’s true Jack is kind of continuing that tradition. But the difference is his raps were popular; “Lovin On Me” went No. 1 on the Billboard Hot 100 toward the end of 2023. The other difference: Jack went “blacker.” he said exactly that himself while speaking on Popcast.
“It certainly made what I already wanted to do even more appealing, absolutely,” Jack said when Coscarelli spoke on recent white rapper genre-switching. “I love Black music. I love the sound of Black music. And, of course, I’m hyper-aware of the politics of today, that safer landing spot that a lot of my white contemporaries have found. I’m not gonna pretend, with what you’re talking about, that I was like, huh, I guess you’re right! I knew that there were multiple things appealing about this route, but I also came to the decision, I’m proud to say, off of what feels good in my ear.”
The Album Only Complicates His Legacy — Which Was Weird to Begin With
Jack is a little young for me to be talking about things like, “legacy,” but this album really does make Jack’s artistry feel very weird and hard to classify.
On one hand, after beginning his career as somewhat of a fun linear rap technician, he ended up with multiple top 3 Hot 100 singles after becoming a heartthrob literally overnight. On the other, he stopped trying to be a Drake clone and randomly dropped a more conscious rap record. He’s someone who can easily steal the spotlight with guest verses, but he’s only been a featured artist on seven singles in the last six years. He hadn’t dropped a new project in three years before this one, and when he finally dropped, the album was completely different from his last, which itself was completely different from the one before that.
Six years after “What’s Poppin,” Jack doesn’t seem to have a signature sound, he’s not a prolific collaborator or performer and he seems to be in the middle of switching his whole aura again.
I respect that he’s not content to be a cute white boy that can drop some bars from time but would rather chase singles and trends. There’s an earnestness — and a general lack of formulaicness — I can respect in the algorithm-driven hellscape we’re in today. But he just feels more formless than he should be at this point in his career.
The New Approach Is Interesting, But He’s Got More to Learn
By his own admission, Jack is a limited vocalist. But in an era of sing raps, he can probably make space for himself as a rapper who decided to become a lounge singer in what should be the dead middle of his prime. I’ve listened to the album three times, but I need about five more to make any official judgments. What I will say is that it did feel a bit drab in spurts, as his vocal range is narrow and the song-structures he chooses — and his refusal to embrace any ego on his writing — means the incisive wit he’s been known for really isn’t there. And for an artist who wasn’t too revolutionary musically in the first place, those lack of IG caption bars kinda hurt, especially when the vocals and the soundscapes aren’t novel enough to pick up the slack.
There’s No Telling What The F**k Jack Does Next
Because he’s switched up so much, I really can’t say what’s next for Jack. Is this his version of Frieza’s fourth transformation? Or will he pop out as a jazz improvisationalist next spring? All I can say is, “who knows,” ’cause when it comes to predicting Mr. Harlow, it’s clear we don’t know Jack (clap for me).
