Coloring Book

★★★☆ 3.5/5

Coloring Book” is both rambunctiously honest and irresponsibly genuine, explosively vibrant yet somberly candid, refreshingly different yet traditionally-rooted, while somehow remaining (for the most part) harmonious and collected. Between his childish chants and passionate melodies, Chance The Rapper carelessly colors outside of the lines of hip-hop music in his highly-anticipated return from 2013’s “Acid Rap,” solidifying his platform as a spiritual 23-year-old indie rapper with an unrivaled dedication to his artistry.

   If one thing is clear about “Coloring Book”, it’s that Chano is just getting started. This time around, his music and corresponding message has matured spiritually, sonically, and politically, as he takes you on a wildly rhythmic ride through religion, violence, and nostalgia. Although Chance’s life has changed tremendously since the critically-acclaimed release of “Acid Rap” as he is certainly aware of in “Blessings,” he repeatedly reminds listeners that he remains the same Lil’ Chano from 79th street, south side Chicago (“I used to pass out music, I still pass out music”).

   Although the sporadic undertones of gospel music in “Acid Rap” may have foreshadowed the sonic direction of Chance’s latest release, not even Kanye’s “The Life of Pablo” could prepare us for the copious amounts of gospel on “Coloring Book.” While Chance impulsively switches between self-defining rap and glorious belts of song, and the sound of the album is often an unpredictable concoction of jazz instruments (with a subtle nod to Chicago-born ghetto house), the rich heart of traditional black music in America serves as the primary coat for all 14 tracks of the mixtape: gospel is the underlying link between each collaboration, chorus, and couplet in “Coloring Book.”

   The release of this mixtape is formative in Chance’s career, as its success has the potential to prove his interesting business plan of releasing his music for free without the resources of a major label. Although he continuously asserts his independence as a rapper in “No Problem,” he also continues the spirit of collaboration on his latest release, with features from Kanye West, Jeremih, Young Thug, Justin Bieber, T-Pain, and many more.

   A standout track is “Summer Friends”: Chance gets nostalgic as he reflects on his childhood, and while it begins happy and carefree like many of the other songs on the album, it quickly shifts into a somber chorus (“Summer friends don’t stay/ Summer friends don’t stay around”), as he is reminded of the violence that surrounded his neighborhood–shootings in Chicago spike in the summer. Chano demonstrates his mastery as he quickly shifts a joyous, sentimental song into a call to end violence in south central Chicago.

   Chance deserves recognition for his ability to remain quirky, relatable, and seemingly positive without losing his introspective and thoughtful message while rapping about serious issues.  However, this album is certainly not for everyone, and perhaps not even the returning Chano fan. If you are looking for the next trap-infused “slap,” you will not find it on this album. This album may also be off-putting to the average atheist, as Chance The (Christian) Rapper takes time to thank and praise God multiple times throughout his most explicitly religious mixtape yet. “Coloring Book” can often sound more like a remixed church sermon than a major hip-hop release of 2016; “How Great,” samples “How Great is Our God,” a popular worship song written by Christian singer Chris Tomlin in 2004. And lastly, if you’re looking for a continuation of his previous music, rid yourself of expectations before listening to his latest release.

   “Coloring Book” is jubilant marriage between music and message. Is it a perfect marriage? Debatable. For every operatic gospel chorus (“Finish Line/ Drown”) there is a equally prophetic, yet saddened verse of reflection (“Same Drugs”). For every harmonious horn melody (“No Problem”) there is a disjointed production of percussion and Auto-Tune (“No Problem”). For every spontaneous step in a new direction (“All Night”), there is a cheerful hint at old music (“Angels”). “Coloring Book” succeeds in its juxtapositions, as Chance disregards all expectations and once again redefines an ever-changing genre, ultimately reminding listeners of the intended cultural impact of his music (“I don’t make music for free, I make music for freedom”).