Beneath the sonic waves of Donnie Trumpet and The Social Experiment’s ‘Surf’

Chance the Rapper and company deliver a genre-bending new album that’s not quite hip-hop and not quite pop. Instead, “Surf” is something deliciously in between.

In a time when MCs are hailed as the new rockstars, there’s a curious drought of live band hip-hop — both on stage and in the studio.

So it’s only natural that new artists rise to fill the void.

But that’s not to say Surf, Donnie Trumpet and The Social Experiment’s first official project, which hit iTunes for free May 28, is hip-hop. There’s too many catchy non-hook vocals to be considered rap’s cousin, and too many MC-laced bars to be dubbed pop.

Those classifications are a thing of convenience, anyways. Maybe we’re just looking at the project the wrong way.

So like your favorite box of childhood cereal, Surf seems to deliver a new toy, a prism, if you will, that you can hold to the light and view Chicago’s rising class of genre-blending.

In this Goldilocks brand, Surf thrives with an ethereal mix of crooning and spitting, acoustic instrumentation and synths, uplifting climaxes and drowsy melancholy moments. As a whole, the set floats through the sonic cloudscape, gossamer and wind-blown.

Experiment & Collab

The Social Experiment consists of Chance the Rapper, Donnie Trumpet (whose real name is Nico Segal), Nate Fox and Peter Cottontale. Though everyone is familiar with the Kanye heir, Chance, Donnie is the GPS-captain of this album, guiding the crew with his brassy melodies.

Versatile and star-studded, Surf has more features than David Letterman’s farewell finale — from Busta Rhymes to Erykah Badu to J. Cole. But despite the omnipresence of guests, the project is neither disjointed nor lob-sided; no one hoards the spotlight. Instead, the album’s biggest strength lies in its collaboration.

If you were anticipating the followup to Chance the Rapper’s breakthrough mixtape, Acid Rap, you’ll have to wait a bit longer. But fans need not be disappointed. (For whatever it’s worth, the album has a five-star rating from nearly 4,000 downloaders on iTunes).

Track Diving

The first song, “Miracle,” introduces dense vocal harmonies that drift over Donnie’s horns, and Chance hops on board with his patented playful rhymes, sometimes dancing and sometimes tip-toeing over the beat. The Chicago MC constructs stream-of-conscious lines almost as fluidly as Ellen Page’s character in Inception summons steps to the bridge in that early dream-building scene.

Filled with reverb trumpet, “Nothing came to me” carries echoes of Miles Davis’ Bitches Brew, which pours over modal, amorphous melodies that later shift into more concrete shapes. It’s no coincidence the next song is titled “Wanna Be Cool,” where MJ-esque muted guitar licks bask in a giant self-esteem-boosting pep rally. The positivity, which permeates throughout the entire album, feels so ridiculously sincere it’s reassuring. Who would be surprised to see teenie boppers and Phil Dumphey dads singing along together in a car under the summer sun?

“Sunday Candy” pays homage to Chance’s grandma as the sound nods to elements of Chicago juke with double-time 808s that are bound to get your feet moving. Wait, there are instrumental tracks too?

For those who haven’t noticed Chance is for the kids, it’ll become abundantly clear on “Slip Slide” — the hook repeats “I’m gonna stand up on my own two.” The 22-year-old has the ability to see the silver lining in hard times, and there is beauty in his cheery-eyed optimism, which he imbues by not only altering the pitch and tone of his voice but also relishing in puerile subject matter i.e. Rugrats. (“Pass the Vibes” could be a Disney soundtrack.)

But the album’s pleasantries leave little room for rawness and grit; no gnawing on the bone of an audible lamb shank. Herein lies the downside of meticulously hyper-polished production (in the Fader cover story published January, Chance said they recorded 610 tracks in a single song). The set won’t blow you away, though it presents a refreshing take at radio-accessible tracks that still have substance and the power to move you.

As much as their sound harkens back to musical predecessors, the album resists classifications. That rebellious spirit is captured on “Warm Enough” when Chance cries:

“Who are you to tell me I don’t want you the way flesh wants freedom, the way greed love need, the way kings need kingdoms?/You don’t know what I know, what I’m capable of, what I slaved for and traded in favors and give up for you what I gave up for love.”

It’s the quest for pure joy in music that gives The Experiment so much clout.

With Chance’s earlier mixtapes and heap of singles he’s dropped since, we’ve come to expect the Chicago MC at the forefront of the collective, but this new narrative proves it’s much more than a one-man show, much more than hip-hop. Indeed, The Social Experiment is something different, sowing various genres and generations into a textured outfit.

Their product is bettered by who they are as creators and innovators. The Social Experiment is doing something new(ish) on several frontiers:

1) Live band

2) Free album

3) No record label

4) Contemporary hip-pop

The quartet may quickly be becoming the new The Roots (my only comparison). These musicians played on J. Cole’s Forest Hills Drive sessions and backed up Action Bronson on “Baby Blue” off the Brooklyn MC’s recent album. Look for them on other acts nationwide.

Everyone in the group deserves praise, but none more so than Donnie Trumpet, who, as DJBooth pointed out, literally has more songwriting credits on the album than anyone else (Total Number of Artists credited: Nico Segal – 16 credits; Nate Fox -14 credits; Peter Cottontale – 14 credits; Chance The Rapper – 9 credits).

With these young instrumentalists solidifying their place in a hip-hop scene generally reserved for hungry rhyme-spitters, the group’s first project helps balloon the genre into a pursuit beyond just an individual’s game. Surf seems to expand in all directions, even omitting features’ names on the track titles, a step that dissolves the walls surrounding the MC and broadens the focus toward the sound as a layered, cohesive whole. In an era when Millennials are pinned for being self-centered, that’s a whole lot of displacement in favor of the collective.

Overall, this album plays better with each listen and grows deliciously tasteful track after track. Surf ebbs and flows on the shores of youthful, ethereal daydreams. And as bright as the present looks through the prism of The Social Experiment, the future looks even brighter.