Hello again. It’s me: the guy from the last Future review. Releasing a week after his self-titled effort, HNDRXX finds the Atlanta super trapper in a more reflective and emotional state. Unfortunately, drowned in toxic, indecipherable Auto-tune and supported by piss-poor vocal performances, this album is a snoozing attempt to appeal to the masses. Last review, I commended Future for never making moves solely to get more popularity or radio play. Boy, was I wrong — wrong, wrong, wrong. Although HNDRXX seems like a refreshing change of pace at first, the more listens I gave this album, the more bland it became. Once again, Future refuses to cut his track lists. This results in a bunch of similar-sounding songs that can only be separated by their instrumentals. However, in the middle chunk of this album, even some of the beats start sounding alike.
Not to mention, the songwriting here is mostly atrocious. Numerous times on this, Future seems like he didn’t feel like writing a whole song. So he opts for repeating the chorus six times instead. C’mon, man. We already get enough redundancy in your bars. The album opens up with “My Collection” which, although I like the true-to-form savagery from Future, the writing is distasteful nonetheless. After one listen, I tried looking at it through Future’s eyes. When he states, “Even if I hit you once, you still part of my collection,” I formulated a concept for this album. Possibly, Future started off this project with that song to say the subsequent tracks represented his collection of women and how he got to know each of them (or the noteworthy ones at least). The problem is: I’ll never know if that concept is true and these songs aren’t compelling enough for me to defend them going forward.
Some of these instrumentals really do take Future’s catalog to an exciting new plateau, though — such as “Incredible,” “I Thank U,” and the dark, chilling outro “Sorry”. Metro Boomin shows up for the opening and closing tracks, doing his best to pick up the pieces Future left scattered all over the floor. Despite his valiant effort, Metro could not save Future from himself. Time and time again on this album, Future gives us the same dull, contradictory tracks. One moment he’s objectifying women religiously and the next (which occasionally appears two or three bars later) he’s saying how hurt he was by a good girl being fed up with him. His pain might be a little more believable if there were about eight less tracks here. Although it is my favorite of the bunch, saying “Sorry” after presenting countless mindlessly opposing ideas and watered-down song compositions doesn’t quite do this album any justice.
Somehow, HNDRXX finds a way to sound diluted and oversaturated simultaneously. This album is absolutely nothing special. It’s the same ol’ Future wrapped in a more luxuriant package. Why couldn’t he have simply combined these past two projects into one, focused, versatile album called FUTURE HNDRXX? The world may never know. But, here, one thing is for sure: Future has seemingly hit his creative ceiling.