serpentwithfeet Champions the Intimacy That Raised Him on GRIP

Much noise has been made about serpentwithfeet’s outward appearance. Long known for rocking a unique aesthetic saturated with pagan imagery, the genre-bending artist is anything but forgettable. As a result, however, he’s frequently over-categorized, shut out and misunderstood. Raised in Baltimore, Josiah Wise grew up entrenched in the music of the Pentecostal Church. There, he fell in love with the levitational sounds of gospel—a passion that would soon lead him down a path to becoming a classically-trained vocalist. Driven by a dream of singing in world-renowned opera houses across the world, he checked all the right boxes, studied the profession in school and applied to graduate programs that would further advance his career. Then the unthinkable happened: He was rejected from all of them.

Abruptly shut out of the space he’d worked so tirelessly to be a part of, he packed his bags for New York City, where he started experimenting with a new kind of sound. His first EP—blisters—blended classical and electronic, and his 2018 full-length debut—soil—which boasted production from Clams Casino, further expanded on that unique baroque pop sound. A lot of people took notice: serpent went on to collaborate with the likes of Kanye West, Virgil Abloh, Ty Dolla $ign and Ellie Goulding; he was tapped to be an opening act on Rosalía’s 2019 El Mal Querer tour; and his rosy, well-received second LP DEACON featured production and songwriting credits from Sampha.

But while serpent first became known for an experimental gothic sound, his third album GRIP sees him continuing to build on the joyful portrayal of gospel and Black queer love showcased on DEACON, with kinetic instrumentals that harken back to early-aughts R&B. Drawing inspiration from the sonic innovation of Y2K royalty Timbaland, Missy Elliott, Brandy and Pharrell, serpent set out to make a project that honored the culture that raised him a second time as he came to terms with his sexuality. An album that first served as the soundtrack to his acclaimed 2023 theatrical production Heart of Brick, which explored Black queer nightlife, this new set of songs is inspired by the intimate moments that take place between two people within these spaces.

“Damn Gloves,” the project’s sex-laced lead single, makes excellent use of contributions from Ty Dolla $ign and Yanga YaYa, with a pulsating club beat, dark synths and erotic refrain (“If we keep on dancing we gon’ make love / Hold you closer, closer than those damn gloves”). Stripped down track “Deep End,” meanwhile, listens like a More Life-era Drake cut, and it shows the softness waiting on the other side of late nights (“Twelfth night of our one-night fling / Your coworkers think I’m cute, are we a thing?”).

Emotional intimacy abounds on “Spades,” an uptempo serenade to a past flame (“Aunt Jeanine still calls you her nephew / Said if I let you go I’m a fool, ‘cause you’re the only one patient enough to teach me spades”). Pop-heavy “Rum/Throwback,” the project’s best offering, is taken to the next level halfway through with a beat switch—one that sees the flirtations of of the track’s first half bleed into full-blown proclamations of adoration (“Oh, you’ll never hear me say I love you to death”). High-energy banger “Black Air Force,” a song about being broke and feeling unwanted in the club, features a verse from blog-era legend Mick Jenkins—and it’s one of the LP’s funnest moments. Likewise, the breezy, Orion Sun-assisted track “Ellipsis” yields one of the year’s best hooks (“When words fail / Ellipsis, baby come kiss me”).

On his third outing, serpent’s personal and artistic growth is on full display as he continues to explore and embrace the breadth of his own human complexity. On the I Like That-produced “Safe Word,” serpent compiles folk stylings with sensual vocalizations that capture and nurture queer intimacy (“Oh the safe word, the safe word is me / Oh, the safe place, the safe place is me. I’m your shelter”). GRIP is a vulnerable collection of songs made for heat-of-the-moment intimacy—and everything that comes before, during and after. It’s also serpent’s most instantly replayable album to date. “I didn’t wanna waste this chance to celebrate my waist in his hands,” he previously explained about “Damn Gloves.” Here’s to the spectacular now.

Elizabeth Braaten is a writer from Houston, Texas.