albumreview by Jan Vranken

The Harlem Style Icon Returns With a Sprawling, Chaotic Testament to His Own Mythology

Eight years is an eternity in hip-hop. In the time since A$AP Rocky released TESTING, he became father to three children with Rihanna, navigated a felony assault trial that ended with a not-guilty verdict in February 2025, co-chaired the Met Gala, and took on impressive acting roles. For many in a younger generation, Rocky became more famous for fashion spreads and red carpet appearances than for actual music. Don’t Be Dumb arrives as his definitive answer to everyone who questioned whether he still had anything left to prove behind the microphone.

The album opens with ‘Order of Protection,’ a hazy, autotune-draped meditation on the legal troubles and public scrutiny that have defined his recent years. It sets the tone for an hour-long project that sprawls across 17 tracks, each one seemingly determined to prove Rocky can still compete in any lane he chooses. For listeners familiar with his cloud-rap origins on LIVE.LOVE.A$AP, think of this as ‘Peso’ all grown up – still effortlessly cool, but carrying the weight of fatherhood, courtroom drama, and a decade-plus of cultural influence.

The production roster reads like a hip-hop hall of fame collaboration: Clams Casino, Harry Fraud, Hit-Boy, Cardo Got Wings, and even the surprising addition of Danny Elfman, courtesy of album cover artist Tim Burton. This eclectic mix results in sonic whiplash that some will find exhilarating and others exhausting. Rocky bounces from dystopian Memphis trap on ‘Stole Ya Flow’ to dreamy indie-pop on ‘Punk Rocky,’ from smoky jazz-club atmospherics on ‘Robbery’ to industrial rave chaos on ‘STFU.’

The aggressive cuts represent Rocky at his most commanding. ‘Helicopter’ demonstrates his technical prowess as he double-times over chattering, frenetic production with the precision of a veteran who hasn’t lost a step. ‘Stole Ya Flow’ functions as a declaration of war against everyone who borrowed from his aesthetic without credit – with what many interpret as pointed shots at Drake. The Sauce Walka-assisted ‘Stop Snitching’ channels years of bitterness toward the former A$AP Mob member who testified against him, delivered with the gravelly intensity of someone who has genuinely lived through betrayal.

Yet Don’t Be Dumb reveals its most compelling moments when Rocky allows vulnerability to creep through his designer armor. ‘Stay Here 4 Life’ pairs him with Brent Faiyaz for a gorgeous meditation on domesticity and settling down, with Faiyaz’s ethereal vocals providing counterbalance to Rocky’s newfound maturity. The title track, produced by longtime collaborator Clams Casino, returns to the cloud-rap territory where Rocky first made his name, and the nostalgia hits hard. ‘The End’ enlists will.i.am and folk singer Jessica Pratt for a surprisingly affecting commentary on screen addiction and modern dystopia.

The feature list extends further into unexpected territory: Doechii delivers standout bars on ‘Robbery,’ turning a jazz-inflected track into a witty verbal sparring match. Tyler, the Creator appears, though his contribution feels somewhat underwhelming. Westside Gunn is reduced to ad-libs alongside Damon Albarn’s Gorillaz, and while the combination sounds intriguing on paper, it never quite achieves its potential.

The album’s central weakness lies in its inconsistency. For every transcendent moment like ‘Robbery’ or ‘Air Force (Black DeMarco)’ – the latter bouncing between hyper-rap and dream-pop with thrilling unpredictability – there are tracks like ‘Playa’ and ‘Fish N Steak’ that feel like generic mainstream hip-hop autopilot. Rocky’s lyrics occasionally stumble into dated territory; references to blue-check verification feel out of touch in 2026. His flows, while technically proficient, can become repetitive across the album’s lengthy runtime.

The album’s thematic core circles around proving that the tabloid persona doesn’t define him. When Rocky declares he’s unbothered because his partner is Rihanna and their children keep him grounded, it carries genuine weight. The courtroom references scattered throughout – from ‘SWAT Team’ to ‘Air Force’ – never sound triumphant so much as exhausted. He won his case, but the experience clearly left marks.

Don’t Be Dumb won’t satisfy everyone. It lacks the cohesive vision of AT.LONG.LAST.A$AP and the hungry innovation of his earliest work. But it proves that Rocky remains one of hip-hop’s most distinctive voices and curators. At 37, he’s no longer the insurgent fashionista who emerged from Harlem – he’s an elder statesman reckoning with legacy, fatherhood, and cultural theft. The album’s flaws are genuine, but so is its ambition. In 2026, that still counts for something.

(7.0/10) (A$AP Worldwide / Polo Grounds / RCA Records)