Album Review: Post Malone, ‘Twelve Carat Toothache’

Somehow, we’re approaching a decade since Post Malone first exploded onto the scene with “White Iverson” as a grill-wearing, cornrow-sporting, hip-hop-belittling Soundcloud era alumnus. The road to Twelve Carat Toothache has been littered with no less than nine Grammy nominations, countless Top 10 hits (“Psycho,” “Better Now”), some of the biggest chart hits of all time (“Circles”), and three Diamond singles (“Congratulations,” “Rockstar,” “Sunflower”). It’s a career that’s endlessly exemplary of the intricacies of cultural appropriation in hip-hop and the ramifications of the “genreless” movement. The more recent stretch of the road to Twelve Carat Toothache marked signs of decline. Post’s singles were no longer as ubiquitous as they once were, and they weren’t immediately hitting and remaining in the uppermost regions of the Hot 100 upon release. Following in the wake of two of the most successful albums of the century, Twelve Carat Toothache roughly sketches the outlines of the melancholy tug-of-war between the kind of music that guaranteed Post’s past success and the kind of music that he sounds truly invested in making. This tug-of-war is drenched in the still waters of death — a figure, emotion, state of being, fear, and aspiration that looms over the album.

“One Right Now,” a collaboration with The Weeknd, may be one of the greatest recent examples of a single that simply does not accurately reflect its parent album. The first collaboration between two of the biggest pop stars of the past decade, “One Right Now” is a better thematic and sonic fit for The Weeknd’s current output. The tired 80s synthpop influence provides the majority of the song’s framework as the pair croon cringeworthy lyrics like “I broke my hand on the same wall / That you told me that he fucked you on.” At best, it’s a phoned-in effort that is easily overshadowed by stronger collaborations on the album. Nevertheless, the song’s contrived nature gives way to a hollowness that amplifies the obsidian melancholy of the rest of the album. “Reputation” opens the album with down-trodden piano and a sense of finality that speaks to the end of Post’s career and life. With nods to Nirvana and ruminations on the destructive pressure of celebrity, Post’s chants of “Kill myself today, kill it all away / Broken path I made / Please, just stay away” are incredibly dark. As uncomfortable as it may be, Twelve Carat Toothache works best when Post is wallowing in that darkness instead of making half-baked attempts at recreating the glittery pop-rap of his commercial peak. “Lemon Tree” plays on the “apples and oranges” idiom for a campfire-esque song that leans into the alt-pop/rock pockets that he’s belonged in all along. Post borrows a lot of his phrasing and swagger from hip-hop, but his best songs have always been the ones with pop-rock influences like “Better Now” and “Circles.” With an album so heavily focused on death and depression, songs like the Roddy Ricch-assisted “Cooped Up” and the “Save Your Tears”-esque “Wrapped Around Your Finger” feel particularly flat.

Outside of the bubbly Doja Cat-featuring “I Like You (A Happier Song),” which is a surprisingly strong vocal performance showcase from both artists, the triumphs of Twelve Carat Toothache are packed in the back half of the record. Musically, many of the songs on this album are indistinguishable. The muddy kick drums and cloudy synths melt together into one long slog of drowsy mid-tempos. Nonetheless, standouts like “Euthanasia” and “When I’m Alone” prevail on behalf of their lyrics. On the latter, Posty sings “When I go out, it ain't gonna hurt at all.” There’s no way out on Twelve Carat Toothache; sobriety anecdotes are circumscribed by desires to reach for a cigarette or a drink, and yielding to death anchors many of the album’s songs. The intensity of Post’s darkness is exacerbated by his aversion to metaphor. Everything on this album is bare-bones and literal. “Love/Hate Letter to Alcohol,” an inevitable collaboration with Fleet Foxes, finds Post thanking and rebuking alcohol for all of the comfort and turmoil it has brought him. The chaotic production on this track breaks up the overall monotony of the album. Conversely, songs like “Wasting Angels,” which doubles as a duet with The Kid LAOI and a torch-passing moment, intensify the monotony both musically and lyrically.

Twelve Carat Toothache is far from Post’s best music, but it is his most authentic offering. When he surrenders to his penchant for indie rock and alternative pop, the album is at its best. The record suffers when Post folds and makes redundant shells of his former hits. Twelve Carat Toothache is less of an artistic manifesto than it is a moment of catharsis for an artist battling myriad demons in the face of crushing fame.

Key Tracks: “Reputation” | “Euthanasia” | “I Like You” | “Love/Hate Letter To Alcohol” | “Lemon Tree”

Score: 60