Steve 'Flash' JuonThe passing of Dequantes Devontay Lamar b/k/a Rich Homie Quan (RIP) is another sad case of the rap music world eating its own. On the surface you can argue that the accidental overdose that killed him is entirely his own doing. You’d be right too. Nobody makes you take drugs for recreation or otherwise and it’s always your own choice what you do. That’s fine — but it ignores the fact that Quan’s death is part of a larger pattern that dates at least as far back as DJ Screw if not further. It’s hard to argue rappers who talk about self-medicating with lean, Xanax and oxys aren’t doing it in real life when the bodies keep piling up. If we aren’t talking about the drug culture that permeates hip-hop music then we are doing a disservice to both today and tomorrow’s generation of rap artists. We should start saving lives now instead of pretending rappers overdosing and dying is an acceptable price to pay in the name of our entertainment. It’s not.
We also can’t oversimplify the issue by saying “just don’t take drugs” and acting like it’s that easy. A toxic environment makes toxic choices far easier, and if you grow up in a place where you have no hope, you’re not going to suddenly stop taking drugs because you got rich and famous. If anything you’re actually going to take more because what was once a difficult lifestyle suddenly becomes easy and affordable. You can’t escape this fact when listening to songs like “Another Morning” off the posthumous “Forever Goin In.” Quan is telling us that he’s afraid of his lifestyle and grateful any day that he wakes up alive. If that doesn’t chill you to the core… what will?
“I ain’t worried ’bout an opp
My only concern is an overdose”
I realize this is dangerously close to being an editorial and not a review but I have to say it again — it PISSES ME OFF that we accept this as normal. Nothing about Dequantes being dead at only 34 years old should be normal or acceptable. He has children who have to grow up without their father. He has friends and peers who may be pushed deeper into their own addictions in a denial of their own depression over his passing. If it sounds like I know what I’m talking about it’s because I’ve been there and done that. I made the choice to take drugs that were prescribed instead of recreational and talk to health professionals and close family members instead of bottling up pain and then trying to force it back down by numbing my brain. Spoiler alert — that never works. Rich Homie Quan’s death is one among MANY wake up calls we’ve been getting that it doesn’t work and never will.
The same things that make Rich Homie Quan relatable to his fans on “Forever Goin In” are things that feel like his own warning signs. “Suffocating” is a declaration that no amount of high living can take the place of mental health. He’s choking to death on it. While I’ve wasted excessive ink decrying our complacency about rappers overdosing, I can at least hope his posthumous listeners can find these songs cathartic. Sometimes you just need to hear someone talking about their own struggles honestly to know you aren’t alone. Even “Rich” famous people have it bad. Existence challenges us daily and when you recognize struggling is universal condition you feel a little less alone in this world.
There are of course times where Quan is in denial about it. You couldn’t make an album as large as “Forever Goin In” without some of those moments slipping in. It’s 35 songs. It’s nearly two hours. It makes me feel like this should have been 2-3 albums spread out over a longer period of time. Whatever. Listening to “No Tears” shows that at times he just refuses to accept the pain in an emotionally healthy way. “I would stop breathing if you told me to/now you busy loving someone else/I sacrificed, but besides the kids I got nothing to show… well I’m not gon’ cry, I’m not gon’ cry, I’m not gon’ shed no tears.” Maybe letting the pain out would be better.
These somber moments can sometimes sound surprisingly uplifting though. The Teezyi produced “My Story” weaves saxophones, drums and soft keyboards together as Quan croons “you don’t know what I’ve been through” in what I can only describe as a triumphant manner. “I’m so old school I still hide money in the couch.” Quan grew up with nothing, came up big, and even when he’s telling us that we don’t understand his experiences he’s TRYING to help us get it. He sounds resilient and strong. He doesn’t sound like a man who would make a terrible mistake that ended his own life, but that’s why addiction is such a bitch. I have a close friend who “lost his struggle” this month and he had just been telling me in DMs how happy he was to be in rehab. Those demons can sneak up on you.
Rich Homie Quan “Came a Long Way” but he still had so much further to go. I don’t have too many notes for “Forever Goin In” but the length is definitely one and if you’re not enamored with rappers who sing that’s another. 100 minutes of music is enough time for even an ardent fan of vocal modulation sing-rapping to weary of it by the end. We can celebrate Quan’s legacy without giving him a free pass on some of his grosser moments of saying bitches are only good for pussy. It’s a trope of the genre, it makes him no better or worse than his contemporaries, but pretending it doesn’t exist is problematic in its own right. We can all do better. We can certainly do better than letting another rapper like Rich Homie Quan pass away because we’ve normalized that an overdose is par for the course.