IDK’s albums are like that one gambling meme: the one with the middle-aged guy, head to the floor, turning around quitting right before he digs into a wall of diamonds. It encourages you to keep gambling so you avoid the fate of being so close to greatness. IDK always feel like he’s on the cusp of achieving that greatness on each project, and BRAVADO + INTiMO is, unfortunately, no different.

I’m disappointed by the concept of the album. If you’re intro track is going to take the time to explain that this is “not a concept album” and instead a “feeling album,” then you need to back that up with something that makes me feel anything. Instead, we are given a flimsy concept that very loosely binds the album together.

Here’s a rundown of the concept: The tracklist is categorized into two sections. Songs in the first half are labeled with a (B), while songs in the last half are labeled with an (i). What do these labels mean? Well, nothing serious enough to even need these labels in the first place. A (B) track is Bravado, where he brags about his success, fame, and his rapping ability. That’s really it. There’s good features from Joey Bada$$ and Gunna that compliment his boasting, but there’s nothing that really grabs your attention. They are catchy and there’s some fun and creative bars scattered around, but those are counteracted by as many corny bars (“She told me hit her on WhatsApp; I looked at the girl like, ‘What’s that?’”). It feels like all we needed was one (B) song, but instead, it takes up half the album. There isn’t a single track here that really grabs my attention. These tracks make me wonder if IDK even has this Bravado side in him: it really feels forced just for the sake of the concept.

However, what saves this album from being a total disaster are the (i)’s. These are the INTiMO, where he gets more intimate and introspective. IDK has always been at his best when he gets to reflect on things that really matter to him. MiLES TRUMPET, the first i track, has IDK rapping over a beautiful jazzy beat with calming trumpets, that match his bars that reflect on missing someone he loved. Papercuts has a hypnotic vocal chopped behind his verses touching on the difficulties of life. Here, he brings out his singing, which honestly sounds great and matches the vibes of these tracks. The best song on the album, Switch, has IDK reflecting on his time incarcerated at 17, and features a great Conway the Machine verse that add perspective onto motivation and inspiration with rap.

The one thing you can never hold against IDK is his production. Each beat takes some elements of jazz rap and trap and creates a chill emulsion that keeps you engaged with the tracks, even if what IDK has to say stays surface level for the most part. However, I wish these beats complimented the concept of the album more. If you listened to the instrumental of each track, you wouldn’t be able to classify most as B or i. Especially for the Bravdo tracks, it would’ve been nice to hear some more trap, high BPM beats that really show off his technical ability as a rapper.

See you again (B.i.) tries to tie together the album by discussing these two conflicting parts of him. He puts up a tough front, but he secretly struggles with abstract concepts like love and grief. It’s a decent conclusion, but after it all, I’m left wondering why was this album needed. IDK is clearly trying so hard to create some interesting concept album, yet it’s completely flaccid. While I like the (i) tracks, it’s nothing that new for IDK, and the (B) tracks just feel too foreign for him. He should focus on fleshing out his lyrics instead of trying to cobble together a concept for an album. IDK has so much more potential, and if he just dug deeper, this album could’ve been so much better than what it is.

55 / 100