According to memes and folklore, people who wear all-black Air Force 1s are threats to society. Untidy and unruly, they swim through life oblivious to the dust that gathers on their kicks and the darkness that gathers in their souls. The shoes are so abused that even in Nelly's classic paean to Nike, no one is rapping or rocking black power. (One person buys some.) Despite this stigma, serpentwithfeet dedicates a song on his third album to the quiet confidence of a man who radiates Air Force black energy in the club. “Nobody's fucking you,” she whispers amorously.
The scenes and sounds of the club are part of it HANDLE, which trades the singer-producer's familiar old-time gospel for sassy R&B. serpentwithfeet has always been a student of the genre, but lately he has been actively engaging with its history and patterns. DEACON wove Janet's earnestness, Brandy's vocal runs, and Darkchild's calm storm fronts into tender odes to queer black men. The record retained its interest in religious symbols and themes, but the music took more cues from R&B than gospel or electronic — a trend that continues here. Firmly planting a flag in contemporary R&B, Serpent explores the ways that touch sparks and sustain romance.
His singing is sharper and more direct in this pure form. There are more presences and invocations than innuendo or symbolism, a change that suits the intimate theme. “Kissing you more, more than an opera/If we keep dancing, we'll make love,” he sings on the floored “Damn Gloves,” framing a deep smooch as an interlude. The wet and pounding beat, produced by Nosaj Thing, I Like That and Serpentwithfeet, heightens the urgency of the command. You can feel the charged closeness of the dancers' bodies.
The writing in “Safe Word” is equally laden with nods. “Safe place is me, safe place is me,” he sings, declaring his body a haven for a lover. The vocal treatment embellishes the protective sentiment, smudging his words over Sensei Bueno and I Like That's soft drums and breezy melodies. serpentwithfeet especially tackles his vocals throughout the album, rarely relying on his operatic falsetto. The choice seems deliberate: As impressive as its upper register is, even at its most ecstatic, it exudes anguish and loneliness. The breathy, direct song of HANDLE it is more conversational, evoking closeness, exchange and community.
