COVER STORY | Kevin Abstract Finds a New Lane

When I hop on the phone with Ian Simpson, the vocalist who parades the globe as Kevin Abstract, he’s just returned to Los Angeles from a trip to Texas. Abstract was born in Corpus Christi and has spent a lot of days in Houston. On this trek, however, he was visiting Austin and, since he never spent much time in home state’s capital growing up, it felt like he was somewhere new. Much is felt similarly about Abstract’s new solo album, Blanket—a rock-based project that exists in the same orbit as his previous rap work but, through experimentation and ambitious new sonic bedrocks, it stretches its legs into something fresh and unfamiliar. Inspired by Modest Mouse, Alex G and Sunny Day Real Estate, there are practically no remnants of Abstract’s beloved former band, Brockhampton—who broke up in 2022 after releasing their final two albums, The Family and TM, the former of which was, really, a glorified Kevin Abstract solo record made to fulfill a record deal that arrived as a one-man examination of a collective’s chaotic ending.

Two years ago, Abstract proclaimed that his next solo record was going to be one that bypasses reflection and emotion and gets people to move. What he did come up with, though, was a collection of songs that are, all at once, patient, methodically tender and, succinctly, inversive to the kind of dance-centric, upbeat tracks that such a proclamation of movement would likely point towards. It’s less spacey than a rap record; much more indoctrinated with the DNA of intimate chord progressions and rock ‘n’ roll modernism. Drenched in the same ethos as his job as a consultant on HBO’s Euphoria, Blanket is a 13-song survey of vibes. “I’ve been trying to make a solo record over the past two years, and nothing I was making was making sense to me, emotionally,” Abstract says. “It wasn’t music that I would play back, be excited to show a friend or be excited to listen to on my own in the car. Something just happened where I had new energy around me—new people, and they were encouraging me to make the stuff I actually listened to growing up. That removed the pressure I was putting on this project, because I thought I had to live up to some idea of what people wanted from me. I, somehow, managed to escape it.”

It’s true—Blanket rebels against any preconceptions a listener might have about what a Kevin Abstract album is supposed to sound like. Four years ago, ARIZONA BABY was the MC’s grand, candy-coated and sun-soaked stroke of pop-rap that blissfully paired bombastic beats with dainty, sweet verses. It was a project that arrived much more focused and sturdy, a welcomed pivot from Abstract’s work with Brockhampton—likely because there were so few voices that needed time in the spotlight. Back then, he was working with Jack Antonoff, Dominic Fike, Ryan Beatty and others. On Blanket, Abstract has widened his coterie of players, calling upon Harry Styles’ songwriting team Kid Harpoon and Tyler Johnson, keyboardist John Carroll Kirby and Alex G guitarist Sam Acchione, among others.

A week before Blanket’s release, I was shuffling around my house, doing chores while spinning the record. It’s the kind of assembly of songs that you can get lost in, but it’s also the kind of work that can make keeping busy feel easier. What immediately jumped out was the closing track “My Friend,” a collaboration between Abstract, Kara Jackson and MJ Lenderman—two artists who each made (or helped make) two of the best albums of 2023, Why Does The Earth Give Us People To Love? and Rat Saw God, respectively. Perhaps you, too, never imagined the worlds of Brockhampton and Wednesday syncing up in such a way, but it’s all there, bright and sublime—and it’s a mark of Abstract understanding that his fourth studio album was going to be not a mark of the rap and R&B he’s made his calling card, but a fusion of indie rock, fuzzy alternative and moody, synth-heavy electronica.

“Once I locked in this direction and knew this is the genre I wanted to explore for an entire body of work, I realized that I should probably reach out to who I would consider to be some of the best in this lane,” Abstract explains. “I reached out, just to see if they liked the music I was working on, and then the collaboration just naturally happened.” With Jackson, he was struggling to write a second verse for the song, so co-producer Romil Hemnani asked her to write one (she wrote three, and one of them found its way into the song’s bridge, “The way I think about you, my friend”).

Abstract and Hemnani have worked together on every project (Brockhampton albums included) since MTV1987, and the musical chemistry between the two artists is undeniable at this point. “He’s heard and seen me develop over the years, since I was 17,” he says. “There are similar sensibilities that we share, and I think it’s easy for us to start on something without me even saying what the direction is. We’re super locked in, but maybe it’s because we do spend a lot of time together. If we’re not listening to the same stuff, we’re showing each other stuff.”

Abstract is an artist who is always tuned into presentations and concepts. When teasing the finale of Brockhampton, he was very affixed to Twitter, particularly, offering follow-backs and giving snippets of insight into the live, as-it-goes process of his own band’s curated demise. The rollout for Blanket was an interesting cycle, too, as he opted to drop a single weekly during the month leading up to the album’s release. The title track was the first offering, and it arrived as a thrashing alt-rock song with heavy guitars and auto-tune.

After putting out an album like Brockhampton’s TM, which was so focused on pure rap sensibilities and expressions, there was a massive amount of intentionality for Abstract when it came to making Blanket such a visceral, distinctive mark of a new beginning for him as a solo artist. “I wanted to be a new artist, I wanted something fresh, something entertaining and something that just felt alive—to spark a new era for the audience and go as left as possible in the most tasteful way that is true,” he says.

The catalog of Brockhampton has always run side-by-side with that of Abstract’s solo career. When the Saturation trilogy dropped in 2017, he had already put out MTV1987 and American Boyfriend: A Suburban Love Story; GINGER and ARIZONA BABY came out within six months of each other. In a lot of ways, Blanket offered Abstract to go back to a pre-2017 state of grind, where he didn’t have a group project to fall back on once the buzz of his own work died down. “I feel like I’m building from the ground up again, just fully focusing on my fans and giving them what they want from me—which is good music,” he adds. Since Blanket’s release, the critical reception has been all over the map. The album was revered by some, seen as middle-of-the-road by others. It’s a dichotomy I expected from a project like this, where a rap group disbands and the frontman’s next work is categorically not a rap record. But I was shocked to see the ambition go unchecked in most music writing circles. I’m not sure there was an album by a more high-profile artist that saw the hype surrounding it evaporate once the initial press cycle was over.

But Blanket is a very good album, one that lives and dies by its own ambition. If you are not prepared to buy into the bandleader of Brockhampton—a music collective that was, at one point in time, the most popular group in hip-hop—making such an artistic pivot, which includes song arrangements that are more creatively fulfilling than they are sonically logical, then Blanket will probably not immediately land for you. And such a truth is totally fine, as Abstract has never been all that interested in riding the wave of momentum the music industry has tried to put under him. But, at the end of the day, Blanket exceeds its own distinctions by gliding on the same attitudes that made Brockhampton a monolith six years ago while reveling in a new sense of ambiguity.

“I wanted the music to hit like rap music,” Abstract explains. “Bass-heavy, and the energy is rapid, youthful. I didn’t want to make something that felt more guitar-driven, and I don’t necessarily rap on every song. I’m singing on everything, but I want it to feel like it will go crazy live the way some of the current rap concerts are right now. I want to live up to that bar. I also liked the idea of someone hearing this album and not knowing my race or knowing what genre it really is—because, at moments, it’s kind of confusing in a beautiful way.”

When he was making music with Brockhampton, Abstract would, sometimes, just throw a bunch of genres across the discography and it was, perhaps consciously or subconsciously, a means of him workshopping what he was building towards in his solo stuff. In turn, Blanket feels cohesive in its sonic direction. There are familiar flavors, like hip-hop and soul, and a song like “Scream” really showcases how Abstract was pulling influence from the ‘90s R&B songs he might have listened to growing up in Southern Texas.

In an interview with Rick Rubin for GQ in 2020, Abstract talked about how he is at his best when he’s writing and performing about survival. On Blanket, there are these crystalline vignettes where he is boasting about cash and fantasy, feeling guilt and grief or, even, resisting the pleasures of intimate touch with someone. This idea of endurance is an equilibrium across Abstract’s catalog, where he’s balancing success and self and interpersonal doubt, is rather sharp and immense, forming the material and spiritual soul of Blanket, especially—even though courage on this album is rooted in a desire to be a heroic glow for fans more so than an immediate reference point for how to keep going.

“These days, [I’m] trying to stay grateful, hopeful and positive and be that for the people, represent positivity and represent wonder and imagination,” Abstract says. “I think with ARIZONA BABY and American Boyfriend, both of those are rooted in this idea of survival and surviving—either me trying to make it out of Texas and get a career going, or me trying to navigate the ups and downs of my group. And now, [Blanket] is just ‘How can I represent positivity and nostalgia and warmth,’ that feeling of your best friend giving you a hug. I would say that is the core of this album, more so than survival, because there was a point where I was like ‘I don’t even know if I’m gonna put out an album this year.’ I really fell into making something that I’m super passionate about. I was making it to express how I felt so I didn’t go crazy.”

Abstract has always had an affinity for making music at home. He and Hemnani have worked in different studios across Middle America, but much of the session work for Blanket was done at a home studio tucked away in Beachwood Canyon in LA. Every piece of the record was constructed in Southern California, a sonic measure that punctuates the fact that, by this point, Abstract has called the West Coast home for almost a decade now, though Blanket was made during a transitional period for the rapper.

“I didn’t have a house at the time,” he explains. “I was staying in hotels, trying to figure out my housing situation while I was recording—and I just ended up spending most of my time just sleeping at the studio, which reminded me of 2017, when [Brockhampton] all lived together and made music all day and all night. And some of the producers, they’d be crashing there with me. It was a really comforting, sleepover vibe, which you can feel in the music. It feels cozy in that way.” I ask Abstract if living in the studio was beneficial or detrimental to the energy, especially if you never leave and you’re a full-blown recording rat. “It was helpful,” he replies, “because I gave myself a deadline. I wasn’t aimlessly recording, there was structure there.”

On Blanket, Abstract is working with a lot of vocal mutations and octave switches—something he’s been no stranger to in his previous work. On ARIZONA BABY, he explored such shifts on songs like “PEACH” and “MISSISSIPPI,” oscillating between personas and styles with great finesse. It’s an interesting approach, as he lets his singing become its own instrument and play a crucial role in the stories on every song. “We made sure I found a new voice to present to the audience, a new chapter that represents the tone and height of the album” Abstract says. “That’s why there’s a lot of whispering. With the auto-tune and distorted vocals and pitch, that’s to create a very specific atmosphere that you can only get from listening to me. And I feel like it’s a signature at this point. I just want to keep finding ways to expand on that and to make it not only more recognizable, but more accessible as well—something that does feel poppy and entertaining and not so art-house all the time.”

The standout song from Blanket is “Madonna,” which features Kid Harpoon (Thomas Edward Percy Hall) and Tyler Johnson, who were, initially, meant to work on the entire album with Abstract. It’s a track that is much more pop-oriented than the rest of the record—likely a product of Harpoon and Johnson’s famously Grammy-winning formula with Harry Styles. “Madonna” is fully ingrained in the colors of the pop spectrum’s kaleidoscope and it, immediately, is one of Abstract’s most passionate and impressionistic offerings to date, a tune akin to the emotional magnitude of ARIZONA BABY.

Harpoon and Johnson’s symbiotic pop brilliance and propensity for making bold, beautiful and accessible tunes shines immediately, and it opens Abstract’s artistry up into something we’ve rarely seen from him. It’s full of soul mentality, as his vocals surf through a wardrobe of lifetimes, interchanging between an auto-tuned bliss and an epic, unforgettable soprano. “Xs and Os like she’s playing PlayStation, blue bubble green and she left the conversation,” Abstract’s flow goes. “Love comes and goes, she hits the road, fucking somebody else in the gas station.”

Johnson offers keyboard-playing and harmonies, while Hemnani’s drum programming is intimate and immense. And Harpoon’s lead acoustic guitar, it’s the catalyst that drives the entire track forward and packs it with a radiating warmth. Abstract grew up only wanting to make pop and rap music, which is why Brockhampton was born in the first place. “That was the vibe I was on,” he says. “But the past few years, I was trying to figure out what my next album was going to sound like and I started doing sessions with producers I was a fan of. And I ended up making quite a few songs with Thomas and Tyler. Once I was wrapping up Blanket, I was like, ‘I want at least one thing that is true to that station on the radio I was listening to growing up, the pop stuff that still fell in line with this more rock-driven thing. And ‘Madonna’ was the one that, not only did it make sense sonically, but also conceptually.”

To Abstract, Blanket is a rebirth. He even considers it his true debut album, but it adamant that he’s not looking to pretend that he didn’t put out three really great records between 2014 and 2017. “I have so much respect for my previous work and I’m not trying to erase it at all,” he says. “I wouldn’t be here without it, but this is just me. It almost feels like this is my first shot. And that’s a great feeling, especially when the music is so true to what I like to listen to.” What made a record like ARIZONA BABY keep him from believing he was making the most authentically “Kevin Abstract album” was, at the end of the day, because he was also balancing a leadership role in a rap group at the same time.

“I think when I was putting out [ARIZONA BABY], I was insecure,” he adds. “I think the audience could tell I was shy about promoting it. I think it’s because I was like, ‘Oh, people want Brockhampton. They don’t want a solo album from me at the moment,’ which really wasn’t true. I was just in my head. I think my audience did want to hear what I had to say at that time. I needed to grow up a little bit in order to stand next to my work and be proud of it and not shy away from it. I put a lot of time and energy and creativity into this, so I want to express how important it is to me and not just hide away.”

In the four years since putting out ARIZONA BABY, Abstract was a part of four Brockhampton releases, and he’s had time to grow up more and really dial in on what he wants to make and what legacy he wants to leave behind. “For the first time, I feel myself growing older,” he sings on “Voyager.” If Blanket is meant to be any sort of thesis statement on who Abstract is right now, it’s quite obvious that he is mostly interested in operating on his own terms and staying as close-knit with the people who prop him up—be it the fans, his collaborators or himself. In six months, when he’s in the studio, Abstract might fuck around and drop another rap album. That’s what his music is, at its core, no matter how loud the guitars or the distortion goes; Blanket only scratches the surface of what kind of chameleonic soul Kevin Abstract has in spades.

Matt Mitchell reports as Paste‘s music editor from their home in Columbus, Ohio.