The Worst: Logic in 2019

Written by Gabe Wilson Edited by Maddie McVey

2019 was a fantastic year for music. Many new artists emerged, old artists cemented their

legacies, and plenty of written-off faces started their redemption arcs. But with the good, there came plenty of bad as well. Misguided attempts at changing styles, horrifically insensitive lead singles, and plenty of just unapologetically bad albums were released. This is a new series from The Setlist, where each month we’re going to break down the worst of the worst. Some of it will be new, some of it old, some of it from superstars, and some of it from the dredges of the underground. But one thing will be consistent in each update: you’re going to learn about the worst music there is to hear. The inaugural article of this trash-heap series is going to be a double-header.

Maryland emcee Logic is a fairly household name to anybody who listens to hip-hop. His

catalog includes countless songs with industry legends including Eminem, Will Smith, Gucci Mane, and every living member of the Wu Tang Clan. His meteoric rise to success came largely in 2016, when his album Everybody released and brought with it the infectious anti-suicide jam 1-800-273-8255 (which could receive its own enshrinement into this series one day). Before this, Logic was quietly grinding behind the scenes, releasing mixtape after mixtape, loaded with quality content. His first studio album Under Pressure still even holds a place in my ever-evolving rotation of music. But in 2019, all of this would be undermined. In 2019, Logic would release not one, but two of the years’ worst hip-hop albums, cementing himself for the foreseeable future as a flop.

Supermarket was the first of Logic’s 2019 releases. Rather than a proper hip-hop album,

Supermarket was intended to serve as a soundtrack to the novel of the same name that Logic released at the same time. Supermarket, the musical experience (I have yet to torture myself by reading the novel), was bad. Like, really bad. It seems like Logic has simply grown bored of rapping, the very thing that has built his current legacy. Rather than releasing a cut of rap tracks related to his novel, Logic attempted to branch out and explore other genres. Unfortunately, Logic’s non-hip-hop music lacks what made much of his earlier music so enjoyable. It lacks even a scrap of soul. Even his other lackluster works to this point have felt genuine. The music Logic puts out on Supermarket, however, feels almost sterile. It’s less of a musical album, and more of a boardroom meeting between the most out of touch record execs on the planet. The instrumentals are incredibly sterile, the vocals are bland at best, and the production is hardly anything to write about. All in all, this album has taken the worst of every inspiration Logic had and mixed them together. A diversion from his normal hip-hop roots; this watered-down album of pop-rock tracks just doesn’t live up to the potential Logic holds. Once you’ve heard 15 seconds of any given track, you’ve effectively heard all that the track has to offer.

Now, you’d think an artist only has room to release one truly awful album a year. Normally, you’d be right. In fact, in the time I’ve been closely following music, I can’t recall an artist releasing two terrible albums within a 365-day frame. Following the release of Supermarket, I chose to find a silver lining. “There’s no shot Logic can go downhill from here,” I thought to myself. Then came Confessions of a Dangerous Mind.

I’ll start this section off by giving this album the one compliment I think it genuinely deserves: at least Logic is rapping again. No, really, that’s the best I can muster in praise for this album. Unfortunately, pivoting back into the hip-hop lane that he initially carved his name into doesn’t save Logic from the uninspired instrumentals, dull vocals, and overall mediocre production. See, Logic carved a pretty niche lane for himself to begin with: "White’ Guy who raps quickly;” the same place Eminem managed to carve his legacy. But there’s a stark difference between the two artists, even despite their collaboration on this album. Eminem’s music has a flavor to it. Sure, that flavor has been anger for the past 20 years, but at least he has a flavor. But where Eminem hits the eardrums like jerk chicken, Logic is more like the unseasoned chicken cutlets that poor elementary schools serve at lunch.

It almost feels like Logic utilized all of his lyrical potency and content in his first studio

album Under Pressure. I bring this album up, because I think it’s important in explaining how disappointing Logic’s 2019 truly was. Under Pressure released in 2014 to fairly universal acclaim. The album told incredibly rich stories about Logic’s childhood, talking about the dysfunction rampant in both his family and neighborhood. This album seemed truly like it was going to be the debut album of the next rap superstar. The next Kanye, Eminem, Jay-Z, or even Nas. Instead, five years later, we get Confessions of a Dangerous Mind.

Logic is an artist that I still personally have faith in. I think once he returns to a focus on

the quality of his music, rather than the quantity of his releases, he has the potential to return to form. His music has just reached such a mindless and sterile place, that as of 2020, Logic is turning out to be one of the biggest flops of the genre. The trajectory that his career has taken reminds me of a quote attributed to Elvis Costello: “You have your entire life to write your first album, and only 18 months to write your second.” Logic has fallen victim to the clock of every album following his debut in 2014, but never quite as badly as he did in 2019.