10 Songs, 33 Minutes

EDITORS’ NOTES

The title of Chillinit’s second album might be the only thing the Sydney rapper has toned down since his 2018 debut, Women Weed & Wordplay. By and large, The Octagon is a gleefully NSFW celebration of the hedonism accompanying his newfound success. Over deep, smoky beats and melodic layers offsetting an aggressive flow, he indulges in his aforementioned alliterative passions. He decks himself out in Versace and Balenciaga. He travels the world, getting high in luxury hotels. Yet for all his brashness, there’s an honesty that pops up throughout, adding genuine tenderness amid the bravado.

He repeatedly references his idol, 2Pac—who often placed depictions of graphic violence alongside emotional, heartfelt truths—while similarly permitting his innermost anxieties to peek out now and then. Immediately following the explicit, intensely grimy “230 Pounds” is “Interlude (Mama)” (a reference to 2Pac’s “Dear Mama”), in which he directly addresses his troubled relationship with his mother over a gentle acoustic guitar. And though “Soulmates & Strippers (Wait for It)” is, as you can probably guess, almost entirely about sex and drugs, even here he exerts a moment of blink-and-you’ll-miss-it self-awareness: “My actions reflect the heartbreak I had to neglect… and I drown my pain in money and smoke, chase my pay ’til my brothers ain’t broke.”

EDITORS’ NOTES

The title of Chillinit’s second album might be the only thing the Sydney rapper has toned down since his 2018 debut, Women Weed & Wordplay. By and large, The Octagon is a gleefully NSFW celebration of the hedonism accompanying his newfound success. Over deep, smoky beats and melodic layers offsetting an aggressive flow, he indulges in his aforementioned alliterative passions. He decks himself out in Versace and Balenciaga. He travels the world, getting high in luxury hotels. Yet for all his brashness, there’s an honesty that pops up throughout, adding genuine tenderness amid the bravado.

He repeatedly references his idol, 2Pac—who often placed depictions of graphic violence alongside emotional, heartfelt truths—while similarly permitting his innermost anxieties to peek out now and then. Immediately following the explicit, intensely grimy “230 Pounds” is “Interlude (Mama)” (a reference to 2Pac’s “Dear Mama”), in which he directly addresses his troubled relationship with his mother over a gentle acoustic guitar. And though “Soulmates & Strippers (Wait for It)” is, as you can probably guess, almost entirely about sex and drugs, even here he exerts a moment of blink-and-you’ll-miss-it self-awareness: “My actions reflect the heartbreak I had to neglect… and I drown my pain in money and smoke, chase my pay ’til my brothers ain’t broke.”

TITLE TIME

More By Chillinit