There’s a spaced-out irony in the notion of a red state rapper longing to live a Colorado lifestyle. North Carolina’s Smileyface is that breed of stoner who loves weed like Terrio loves cake and just so happens to rap as well. His latest project is The Hippy Chronicles and is an improvement over 2013′s Lost Luggage. Whether or not he’s seen the Anna Faris weed flick of (nearly) the same name, Smileyface’s stoner-boy aesthetic is that of that one cousin who’s always trying to get you high at the most random (and inopportune) times. On “Neighborhood Hippy,” the dude’s exclamation of “damn I dropped my iPhone” has that way-too-gone feel most of us can get with.
Even if “I love weed y’all!” rap isn’t your thing, Christian Lou’s production on joints like “Ain’t Nuthin’” and “How To Roll” ride nicely enough. In 2014, gettin’ irie is less an act of rebellion than a way to mellow out and let life ride, and this is a decent enough album to throw on to get into that groove.
For the most part, Smileyface delivers, chronicling the quest for eternal highness on “Smoke Forever” in straightforward fashion (“this that bottom of the grinder, I’m a stoner from North Carolina”), covering the many bases regarding mix-and-match methods for getting faded on “Drank N Smoke” while not going too far to dazzle lyrically. “This is not a hobby, this a lifestyle” he raps on “Limitations,” and there’s something to be said for a commitment to one’s way of life, even if that commitment is to little more than pristine blunts, non-stop Call Of Duty seshes and 3D Doritos. Danny Brown and A$AP Rocky’s “Kush Coma” might knock harder (like “let’s face this Matrix blunt then rob the dispensary” hard) than Smileyface’s song of the same name, but the latter is blissed out on the hazy day living tip, in keeping with the general absorbed-into-the-couch-playing-San Andreas-on-a-sunny-day vibe here.
Across this album’s 15 tracks, it’s clear that Smileyface intended for THC to be a modern classic stoner album, even going so far as to step into the dubzone with “Steel Pulse”. Whether this one hits that mark or not might come down to just how blunted one gets upon listening. The album does better for itself in attaining its goal when it sticks to a modern tack; tracks like “High Grade” pick up the slack for some of the middling weed raps that might require one to be more zonebased than a little bit to glean full enjoyment. “Hippy Girl,” for instance, might only be up your alley if you have an actual hippy girl, or guy, rollin’ something up for you currently. But the good outweighs the bad here, and The Hippy Chronicles works just fine in its intended role as a soundtrack for getting lifted.
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