MGK Ditches Bars for Bass Guitar

Photo courtesy of Unsplash.

When Eminem demolishes your career in a single verse, you unfortunately have to find work in another field. I assumed Machine Gun Kelly would try his luck in bartending or perhaps even real estate, but it appears he’s made zero arrangements to flee the music scene. The terms of banishment, enforced by Slim Shady’s fatal savagery in “Killshot” and “Not Alike,” urge Kelly to retire…effective immediately. However, the Cleveland rapper pulls an unexpected stunt by placing himself in a nearly forgotten genre: pop punk. His clever move allows both parties to win: Eminem can proceed to peacefully destroy his own career with each new angrier than ever album release and Kelly can finally ditch his ineffective rap routine for potential success as a singer. That being said, I admire both artists and my mere opinion does not put a dent in their obese wallets. I simply write with the intentions of respectfully sharing my unbiased opinions of the ex-rapper’s newest project: Tickets To My Downfall. I’m no connoisseur of sound, but I’ve got two ears and an open mind, so why not.

The high-adrenaline punch of the album’s first song, “Title track.” will have you questioning whether the year is 2020 or 2003. MGK abandons his fast-flow rap tongue and adopts gnarled vocals to give us the angsty lyrics known to pop-punk’s best. The breakdown bridge catapultes you right back into the era of Blink-182, which isn’t surprising considering their drummer, Travis Barker, has his claws all over the project as producer and percussionist. Barker is no stranger to this sound, he’s a 2000s legend, which is why MGK has to keep pace. Surprisingly, he appears to do just that, only, we can’t reward too much praise towards what is undoubtedly a copy-paste effort overlayed with subtle hints of personality. Tickets To My Downfall is fraught with easily detectable influences and clichés. The last thing a respectable artist wants to do is foray into the realm of pop-punk only to sound like a great-value edition of the band’s who built the empire. For Kelly, adding a dash of substance to his lyrics could go a long way. A 30-year-old man singing “I’ll grow up next summer” is kind of ridiculous, everyone knows that line is reserved for teenage boys making noise in their parent’s garage. Machine Gun Kelly should avoid shapeshifting into a carbon copy of peak pop-punk idols in their prime. A heated debate between satisfied fans of the ex-rapper’s new sound and cringing Blink-182 diehards who can’t swallow the project’s “offensive resemblance to 00’s rock,” is already boiling online. If anything, I’m sure we can all agree that the majority of the population has been deprived of pop-punk for what feels like decades. This explains why MGK’s album hits some of us so hard, like a pill, in which the symptoms include nostalgia and a longing for the reckless days of our youth. In truth, Tickets To My Downfall reminded me of much better times, so my first instinct was to latch the hell on, regardless of its major flaws.

To dive into specifics, tracks like “Concert For Aliens” and “Jawbreaker,” have strong anthem-like choruses that are worth bouncing around to. We can credit Travis Barker for the phenomenal production, which successfully managed to get several aggressive head bobs from me. Kelly has undoubtedly succeeded in emulating the manifold qualities of the punk sound we know and love, but he desperately needs to break through bounds and swap the safe cookie-cutter stuff for something rebellious and personalized. History shows that the greatest musicians are hailed for their abilities to produce organic music in a world full of generic, follow fashion wannabes; in this album, Kelly is a wannabe. Moving forward, Trippie Redd contributes his own distinguished style to the project’s sixth track, “All I Know.” Clocking in just over two minutes, this collaboration works unsurprisingly well regardless of whether or not the song is actually enjoyable (it’s not). Redd is widely known for his own unconventional swagger, so the flavor and flow he drizzles over the track is helpful and on par. “Lonely” gives us reason to believe that the Cleveland rapper is capable of producing a story. The dismal lyrics glaze over strings and percussion as Kelly becomes completely vulnerable to express his father’s death in July. The song is overflowing with channeled pain that pushes through in voice cracks and rasps. If Kelly can continue to reveal himself with the raw passion he musters for “Lonely,” then there might be a place for him in pop-punk after all. The album’s final track, “Play This When I’m Gone,” concludes the project on a heartfelt note. Kelly is not one to sugarcoat his inevitable demise: he dedicates this song to his daughter. Unfortunately, it’s awful, but MGK succeeds in communicating his deepest sorrows in a meaningful way. He’s a great father to his daughter and we simply can’t hate him for that.

For his freshman attempt in the beloved genre of pop-punk, Machine Gun Kelly did a decent job. The crippling downside of Tickets To My Downfall is its indisputable unoriginality coated with a thin layer of cringe. Of course, we all know that pop-punk has a distinct sound, but Sum 41 is not Blink-182 and Blink-182 sure ain’t Green Day. MGK has a lot to improve on in terms of finding his own footing in the genre, but I’m sure he’ll be happy to know that we won’t be purchasing tickets to his downfall after all. The guy is clearly just having fun; congratulations on reaching your first No.1 album on the Billboards chart!

Grade: 6.0/10•