It's true: The Mario Kart Super Star's feed, long limited to 10 fleeting seconds of caramel-colored acceleration, has been legally extended to an hour, and we have 454, a Florida-born rapper who injects intense pluggnb from extraterrestrial locations – Rainbow Road, suspects authorities- to thank. His last tape, Casts of a Dreamerwhich was released on his SoundCloud last week, might as well have been delivered from the back seat of a convertible. There's a top-down air, the frenzy experienced with copious amounts of caffeine, work and the youthful points of school in the rear view. Considering its brain, a long-time inhabitant of the space between cloud rap and hot psychedelia, it's not so much surprising as it is refreshing – this isn't the 454's first open-road epic, nor has it taken its foot off the gas since the last. But top speed (still) feels good. Drop it into your vehicle's Bluetooth system and watch the Missed Call: Boss (15) alerts pile up.
As a skateboarding high school student, 454 scrolled his screen with one eye on Baker's movies and the other on FL Studio tutorials. In a similar way to Fast Trax 3the impressive work of 2022, Casts of a Dreamer first appeared as a single hour-long piece. It doesn't quite break the 100 BPM mark, though the helium-filled samples and drum chops are indicative of a Florida pedigree. Even the 454's most downtempo songs feel like smoldering skid marks on smoking pavement. Take “Moving to Fast,” a shimmering slow burn in which he apologizes for moving too fast. His beat hilariously calls his own bluff: He's on his knees, looking up at this nameless love interest, cooing like a child choking on smelly tears. Girl, I thought I was moving too fast! Girl, I thought we were moving too fast! He's still moving pretty fast, which is the endearing part: He can't quite break the brakes on his spirit, but he loves his craft deeply enough to try. Even his failure sounds like a cathartic overflow.
454 tests in many hats Casts of a Dreamerwhich doesn't sweep as a fully conceptual work so much as a free-spirited idea-rejection. She's fine, after all, and far more enthralled by the thrill of movement than the finality of arrival. As seasoned as he is, 454 still approaches production — his first musical love, long before he started spitting monologues over his own beats — with an eye. holy shit-is a kid holding a brand new MIDI controller on Christmas morning. This is glaringly evident on tracks like “TEMS FLIP,” which was originally released earlier this year as a stand-alone single. Despite the title, he's brimming with pride at having pulled this off: the Nigerian superstar's vocal runs, originally on a vulnerable Future smash, repurposed for an airy ode to PS2s and instant ramen. You can practically see 454 leaping from his laptop, headphones over his head offered in an outstretched palm.
454's development is exciting to watch not only because of its frenzied pastel music, but perhaps even more so because of its infectious, let's-have-fun spirit. The rapper-producer archetype suggests a desperate desire to see one's vision through: There is no waiting time for placementsone might think when I have my own story and my own means to tell it. Skater by day and musician by night, 454 seems intent on avoiding the insularity of indie-rap, as if dragging his rig – laptop, speakers, mic, Focusrite, MIDI – out the front door, the cables to be wound. As he runs off into the sunset, the Doppler-induced plug hitting his system, the neighbors probably shake their heads, smiling. You don't have to match his high speed to match his high mood.
