Travis Scott recently suffered another brutal defeat at the Grammy’s last Sunday and it had many people in uproar as Killer Mike took home (or to the police station, I guess) multiple Grammy’s. Now, in the past, I would be furious and frustrated over this, having been a huge Travis Scott fan in my early 20’s and teen years (saw him 7 times live, the first time being at The Never Sober Tour with Juicy J, an all-time classic), but something has drastically changed in Travis for the worse.

            Travis has grown to meteoric heights, higher heights than I ever could have imagined when I first listened to Owl Pharoah in my dorm room. He’s the 18^th most listened to artist in the world according to Spotify and his shows sell out all over the globe. He seems to be on top of the world, however, for me, somethings missing.

         (Rodeo Tour 2015)

   When I first fell in love with Travis Scott, I was a scared, unsure, immature 19-year-old boy and that’s when I first heard “Hell of a Night” blare through my beats by Dre over-the-ear headphones. It was a beautiful song. The hums, the sample, the light drums, the synth, his vocals all send you on a light drive down the street or a walk down the block. It sets a scene, music that isn’t made a lot anymore. Then I started to scroll through his music catalogue, I became obsessed with him trying to find the underground leaks and the cuts that never quite made it out into the world. His high school mixtapes (Travis and Jason music), the melodic Kid Cudi-like 16 chapels, the banger Up featuring Casey Veggies and on and on. Every time I listened it felt like there was an animal inside of Travis that just wanted to come out at all hours of the day but couldn’t until he found a studio to record in. His voice was all there, his his lyrics were deep and his soul was in it

From Drugs You Should Try It:

We up all night, from dawn to dusk it’s always poppin’
I fell in love, fell outta love, we both had options
I played the drums, she rolled the drugs
I rocked the club, we both throw up
We was the band you never heard before
You got that tat’ above your crack
And on your cat, you be right back
Your momma never know
We were rollin’, rollin’, rollin’, rollin’ stones
When I’m all alone I wish you had a clone
I take that puff, you take that puff
You know we never care to overdose

I try it if it feels right
This feels nice
I’ve been down and lost for days
Glad I found you on the way
When the day gets brighter, the night gets nighter
I always feel this way
Through the hills
I hear you callin’, miles and miles away

It’s a song about kids wanting to do drugs, go out at night, and fall in love, not that unusual, but the way he sang, the beats he made, all made it feel like he really lived that life, like he really meant what he was saying.

      He was the artist for kids like me, who were scared. Even in photographs he would never look at the camera almost as if he was shy, it was truly relatable for a nervous youth like myself. He was the leader of this movement, a motion that we weren’t just going to sit back and be afraid for the rest of our lives, that one day we would rise up and become great, just like him.

From Piss On Your Grave with Kanye:

Us niggas, we can’t behave
We mobbed on the pave, got treated like slaves
Young niggas treated like slaves
This the moment I’ve been waiting for
This why I moved to Cali, stepped outside and got shaded for
Told momma, “Bitch, get back in the door”
I’ve been comin’ up and down, a nigga can’t take no more
Kamikaze over commas
Benjamins, dividends stuffed in my jeans, I can’t fit in
Poppin’ pills since droppin’ Ritalins
Pop a penicillin, nigga, you gotta get with it
My, my, my, my, look at little Scotty now
The same fuckers used to doubt
All preachin’ that they proud
I pull my zipper down and whip it out

      He had this bravado and aura about him all the way through Days Before Rodeo, Rodeo, and Birds In the Trap Sing McKnight. His shows were exactly the same. He gave it his all, he knew kids like him were watching and needed something to hold onto in those days. He would go ballistic, absolutely losing it on stage all for us, all to show that he cared, that he was with us. Obviously, he’s since had a major catastrophe so he can’t be as wild, but I’ll never forget those days.

            Then came a wait. We waited two years while Travis put out a side project with Quavo that sounded like a bunch of throw away tracks…that’s when I started to become nervous. He was so robotic on that album, like it didn’t matter, like he thought no one would care as long as he was with Quavo. For me, that’s where he was very wrong. Prior to that album, Travis didn’t miss, every song he put out felt like him tearing off a piece of his soul and putting it on the track. If his soul wasn’t in the lyrics, it was in his voice or the beat. He found a way to make the song likeable and enjoyable and I defended his reputation to anyone who would counterargue. When Huncho Jack came out it felt like my armor was pierced, I had no defense (believe me I tried), it just was not that good looking back on it.

     During this time, I had graduated college, I was looking for a career, searching for something that meant something to me. Travis still meant a lot to me, going to concerts meant a lot to me, that underground sound was part of my personality.

      Then the news came out that he was dating Kylie Jenner. I thought “That’s a bit strange”, but I knew she was hot and I figured it was cool he was dating a super-hot girl, but in the back of my mind something was off. The guy who was always shy, always trying to relate to the weird, nervous, shy kids, was dating the cool, popular girl. It felt like when in a movie the one friend in high school, who’s clearly a good-looking guy but would rather be with the people he’s comfortable with, all-of-the-sudden starts dating the super-hot girl who doesn’t really relate to the friends group. Travis had found a new crew.

     Astroworld was next. I gathered in the basement with my brothers and listened to it straight through. The music we waited for was here. The beats were insane like going into a theme park full of music, the features even grander. I convinced myself that it was the best piece of music I’d heard since The Life of Pablo, but in my head I knew something was off. His lyrics weren’t that poignant, and they usually aren’t, but to make up for that he would throw his all onto the track, his soul was in every word. On Astroworld that effort had left, the commitment was gone. After about a month I almost completely stopped listening to it, whereas the other albums I still listen to to this day.

      Travis has always had his finger on the pulse of the fans, knowing what the trends are (look at his clothing line and shoes) and I think that went into Astroworld. He wasn’t interested in making exactly what he wanted, he was more interested in making music for the people. That sounds good in theory, but in order to make true art, it has to be for you, not for anyone else. Travis lost the piece of his music that was strictly for him. I don’t know why. Maybe to get a Grammy and it sure seemed like that when he lost the Grammy to Cardi B. He seemed distraught so caught up in what the so called “experts” thought of his music, but the thing about Travis Scott when I first found him was that he didn’t give a shit about the adults or grown-ups who judge music. He was in it for the kids who spent all of their money to go see him and get lost for a few hours while being led into the chaos by their fearless leader. Travis Scott was never meant to win a Grammy, he was meant to make music for the kids that were lost in their life, that needed someone to hold onto. That part of him left when he started chasing awards and approval from others. He no longer was the fuck it all, I’m going to be me and put out the music I enjoy, type of guy. He found a formula, and he was going to find it, but formulas are robotic, not meant to be thoroughly enjoyed, only to appeal to the masses.

            I’m not saying the Grammy’s exactly know what they’re talking about or are perfect, but I will say Travis Scott may not have deserved a Grammy this year. His formula album faded away after a month of listening. Utopia doesn’t have replay value because once you get past the beats (which are incredible), it’s basically just a guy repeating lyrics that we’ve heard in rap a million times over. Without his soul completely into each word he says, Travis loses his audience and will never grasp the votes of Grammy voters. I’ll always love Travis, but when the years go by, I won’t remember him for his current era, I’ll remember him for when all he cared about was the kids who would kill to see him. The kids like me.

(Travis Scott 2017 – Birds Eye View Tour)