We patiently waited three-years in between Acid Rap and Coloring Book. The former project confirmed what his inaugural release, 10 Day, suggested: Chance is no ordinary musician. His superior artistry, colorful aura and generational talent contributed to tolerating his palpable absence—clinging onto the notion of his return saved us from falling into the musical void he created. We stumbled, but didn’t fall.
On May 12th, Chano sealed that vacuity with the release of his third project, Coloring Book. We rejoiced in his return. The 14-track project earned unanimous acclaim, making it a consensus top-2016 album. Its Hip Hop - Gospel crossover aesthetic harbors overwhelming positivity, manifesting through his prideful fatherhood tales and God homage, but he reserves pockets for somber stories.
The third track—and my contending favorite—“Summer Friends” finds Chance remembering his childhood summers. Staples of hanging out with friends, catching lightning bugs and watching movies paint a positive picture; recounting Chicago’s horrid gang violence quickly darkens the mood. However, a fighting light peaks out from this iniquity: Jeremih’s outro. His velvety voice conveys devotion for his homies, and begs for future Jeremih - Chance collaborations. Today, December 22nd, we received just that.
After Chance’s three-year album drought, two projects from him in one year seemed impossible. But, ’tis the season of giving. Chance and Jeremih have assembled the philanthropic dream team by releasing their collaborative nine-track Christmas project, Merry Christmas Lil’ Mama. With features from Hannibal Burress, Lud Foe, Noname and King Louie, this is not your average Christmas album.
Merry Christmas Lil’ Mama presents a youthful, novel excitement, akin to A Charlie Brown Christmas, challenged by a dark Christmas on Death Row soul. It balances the quintessential dichotomy of Christmas emotions, see-sawing between melancholy and joy to mirror the holiday’s uncaring magnifying effect. When life is jubilant, Jesus’ birthday warmly reminds those of their loving, fulfilled existence; but it’s seemingly warm touch can be interpreted as an icy punch to those lonely sufferers. Chance and Jeremih successfully straddle the conflicting emotions to create a palatable project.
The project’s second track, “Snowed In,” celebrates the ironic comfort of being trapped—especially when it’s with loved ones. Forced isolation creates inorganic interactions that can bolster strong relationships, amend broken ones, and/or uncover hidden bonds. This song’s secondary layer represents Jeremih and Chance’s maturation reprioritizing their attention towards important relationships in lieu of shallow, meaningless club nights. The positive Christmas spirit is continued on the project’s midway point, “I’m Your Santa.” Here, the two Chicago artists discourage past woes from eclipsing this singular calendar occurrence. Sometimes, simply letting go and living in the moment can prove extremely cathartic, and put things into perspective. Unfortunately, some victims lone option is to sulk in depression’s suffocating darkness.
Chance and Jeremih land on the melancholic end of the see-saw on “Stranger At The Table”—a sympathetic ode to everyone celebrating a hollow Christmas absent of their loved one. Despite being cloaked in an upbeat Jackson 5 interpolation, this track’s tangible sadness begs to rekindle a lost love; to receive another shot at happiness; to reclaim one’s seat at their significant other’s Christmas table that’s been stolen by a new love—a stranger. This record’s inherent, relatable sadness is perpetuated on perhaps the project’s most despondent, aptly named track, “The Tragedy,” featuring Noname.
With the first verse, Chance depicts a struggling homeless man who is stuck in a groundhog day of dolefulness. He’s lost; searching for anything while coming up with nothing. His days have congealed into a pit of despair, robbing him of hope, supplying him with doubt. Chano’s dejected portrayal of this man tugs on our heartstrings, imploring us to reconsider withholding a helping hand the next time we pass by someone hugging the corner. However, Noname’s succeeding verse forces us to reconsider our benevolence.
She educates us of this man’s past love that he threw away for a variety of women. His infidelity replaced his once positive, loving image with a dark, gloomy shadow of his former self, poetically exemplified by Noname’s following bars: “There's something hauntin', dauntin' 'bout your presence / Casper essence, ghost of Christmas past / Phantom of unraveling his laugh / Opera, string quartet / Curtain’s up, but the whole room darkened up.” By the song’s end, we’re left questioning if this man deserves our compassion, or if his past justifies the present. We're left to infer who is suffering the real tragedy.
Despite exploring these desolate realities, Chance redeems his classic lightheartedness on the tape’s remainder.
“Chi Town Christmas” is a celebration; a tribute to home’s comforting embrace. Typically, increased popularity is met with estrangement—from friends, family, and, of course, home. “Chi Town Christmas” represents the magical moment in time where we pause our busy lives to focus on everything we’ve been missing: mom’s home cooking; the familiar scenery; an uncle’s crass humor; unconditional love. Understanding this time’s fleeting nature forces sincere appreciation and reflection. Sauntering the old neighborhood roads in your new, pristine Tims recalls past memories, how they shape your current existence, and how they’ll contribute to your future.
Merry Christmas Lil’ Mama is a multi-perspective journey. Chance and Jeremih use the holiday to illuminate differing vantage points, to confirm what some already feel, to expose what some are missing, to give hope, and to say thank you. They challenge us to prioritize life; to discover what’s truly important. This project forces us to walk in different shoes, for better or worse, if only for a moment.