Young Nudy is known for his appetite: He is a consummate foodie and perpetual victim of the munchies who has become something like the MF DOOM of East Atlanta. To satiate the appetite of his devoted followers—who hungrily await the release of culinary-themed joints like “Loaded Baked Potato,” “Sunflower Seeds,” and “Blue Cheese Salad”—Nudy has served up a 13-course meal, also known as his new project Gumbo. Every track hits a different vector of the food pyramid: “Brussel Sprout” and “Okra” for your daily serving of greens, “McChicken” or “Fish & Chips” for lunch, and a slice of “Passion Fruit” to cleanse the palate.
The loose concept shows how Nudy’s projects have tightened over time. Though his mixtapes have rarely ever ventured over an hour, each release brings increased cohesion and focus, with more care given to the sequencing of the tracklist. Gumbo plays like a fraternal twin to last year’s EA Monster, down to the similar slime-green and red color schemes of their cover art. Nudy offers a funhouse distortion of the late 2000s DatPiff era, manifesting himself as the flesh-and-blood version of the mixtape covers where Gucci Mane was photoshopped onto Buzz Lightyear, or depicted devouring pancakes.
In a 2019 interview, Nudy self-effacingly remarked that he picks “all the beats motherfuckers hate.” But he’s not giving himself enough credit, because it’s his unpredictable taste that has inspired his cult following, and it’s what keeps his work from ever sliding into a formula. Regular collaborator Coupe handles most of the production on Gumbo, and his evocative style enhances but never overwhelms Nudy’s singular cartoonishness. It’s not too trippy, not too trappy, but always just right.
Opener “Brussel Sprout” is disarmingly gentle, built around a twinkling keyboard line. But before there’s even a chance to breathe, the beat deftly swerves into the more aggressive “Pancake,” which sounds like a ’90s No Limit cut beamed into outer space. That quick, unexpected beat switch is a standout moment on Gumbo—it’s hardly even a moment, just the gap between songs. Still, that careful attention to detail is a quality that sets Nudy apart from other rappers of his generation. His work feels like a full album experience, but it also functions as a playlist on shuffle.
So many of Nudy’s selections feel influenced by video game soundtracks, but never in a way that’s self-consciously retro or referential. The Mario Paint-like sheen always pulls back before going full chiptune, offset by thick bass and tight drums, with a tactility that keeps the samples and synthesizers from getting lost in a faraway galaxy. There’s a sense of whimsy here, one that doesn’t ever tilt into novelty or preciousness. “Portabella,” Nudy’s affectionate ode to dosing, is as genuinely psychedelic as anything on Lil Yachty’s Let’s Start Here: Wavy, new-age synthesizers gently ebb and flow, as bells reverberate and Nudy’s voice melts into a dubby haze. More than any single reference point, Nudy’s production shares a core principle with video game scoring, which often realizes the possibilities of music as a fully electronic medium. He and his producers have no interest in specific instrument sounds, or in beats that feel analog; he’s drawn to the open-ended potential of sound itself.