Mustard didn’t really sign up for this. His sound is undeniably, proudly West Coast, and he can lay claim to one of the region’s high watermarks from the 2010’s thanks to providing the party across YG’s My Krazy Life. Nonetheless, he’s always been a rather equal opportunity beatsmith, less concerned with region than a banger, nearly as vital to Atlanta in that decade as to California. He buddied up with everyone from 2 Chainz to Ludacris (hey, a slightly awkward DTP reunion!), from Jeezy to B.o.B. Let us not forget he cursed us with “No Mediocre”. Actually, let’s.
Providing the megasonic bomb that is “Not Like Us” felt like a homecoming – you might even say a realization of full purpose. It only made sense for Mustard to strike while the iron was hot (hell, radioactive) and he rapidly announced his first proper album in five years, Faith of a Mustard Seed.
Assumptions were made as to what the album would “be”, but Mustard certainly played a role in fanning the flames of hopes for a testament to West Coast dominance. Simply marketing it off the cultural moment that is Kendrick’s diss cum-rallying cry, for one thing, but Mustard also invoked the now locally sacred name of Nipsey Hussle by explaining the title had been suggested by the fallen hometown hero in their last recording sessions together. He had ScHoolboy Q on Twitter promising Cali anthems.
So, then, it can’t help but feel a tad odd – for those invested, anyway – that the very first voice rapping on Faith of a Mustard Seed belongs to Lil Yachty: famously a stumping Drake stooge (and allegedly part of his stable of ghostwriters). Now, this isn’t to hyper-focus on the beef. Mustard has a right to collaborate with whomever he likes, and, it bears repeating, has always drifted between coasts. It simply becomes quite clear, quite quickly, that the majority – if not all – of this album was recorded before the current climate, and renewed adoration for the West Coast, was even a thought.
Naturally, the music here deserves to be taken on its own merits. Yet when the easy highlight – the sinister, throbbing, sublimely simple “Pressured Up” – is the only song that can lay claim to being a true, sincere West Coast heater, it’s hard to not to clamor for what might have been. That song finds convicted turns from Vince Staples and ScHoolboy Q guide it towards Cali classic status. You can’t help but wonder what might have been if more of these local voices were present, rather than the generic “star-studded” cast Mustard opts for.
Travis Scott snoozes his way through “Parking Lot”. Quavo is perfectly fine on “One of Them Ones”, but can’t help but turn a song into a standard Migos affair by his mere presence. The same goes for A Boogie wit da Hoodie and his typical thing on “Worth a Heartbreak”, but it’s a bit crueler as any WC fan can’t help but imagine if Compton’s Westside Boogie (a prominent player during Kendrick’s recent Pop Out mega-concert, mind you) had been invited to the session instead. Future is better than all of these in his turn on “Mines”, but, again, can’t help but be a vibe vacuum. Other, more promising, collaborations simply fizzle: Young Thug and Lil Durk, an undeniably fun pairing, fail to find an anthem on the emotive but oddly understated “Ghetto”. To Mustard’s credit, his work on the track sounds both fragile and genuinely pretty.
Indeed: at the end of the day, Faith of a Mustard Seed is another collection of crisp, often luxurious Mustard beats. Never any reason to complain about that. The choice to hype it up as a continuation of the feeling sparked with “Not Like Us”, however, was certainly a bold call. Kendrick himself not even appearing is telling. This is music clearly created in an entirely different head space. Mustard is one of the men responsible for creating this brave new world of West Coast pride, so praise is due, yet here, he’s entirely failed to read the room. The desire to reclaim his production throne – a tad unrecognized in recent years – is more than understandable, but this could have been a far, far bigger moment for him. It was worth spending a bit more time to put together the West Coast bastion audiences were promised. After all, the album is at – by far – its most heartfelt and palpable when Mustard himself simply reflects on his life and rise across the sprawling closer, “Pray for Me”: he finally brings it all home. Just imagine the likes of Mozzy, E-40, G Perico, Rappin’ 4-Tay, RJMrLA, Mac Mall, heck, even YG (just to name a few) over these beats. We are left with merely the tantalizing dream and a titanic missed opportunity.
