Hollywood’s Bleeding grants Post Malone a new opportunity to embody everything The Most American Artist should: confusion, paranoia, hedonism, patriarchy, and Spider-Man. Fuck every last one of your enemies (or don’t).Īh, yes: Austin Post - my Favorite Friend - returns with another blockbuster for the keyboard-huddled masses. Pair your favorite Post Malone song with an Anheuser-Busch product. Gas station, strip mall, satellite, algorithm. (In context, the latter extends a drastically different Yeehaw Agenda.) To reckon with Post Malone is to indulge the catchy spoils of his labor, often paired with the concession of living in a reality where one will likely hear him against one’s will. Undoubtedly, he’s delivered an array of potent earworms scattered across the backend of this decade, whether via high-execution of garden-variety machismo or his signature longing croon with a Western touch. In four years time, Post Malone’s undoubtedly become The Most American artist in pop music he’s cannonballed into a genreless world, supercharged by white male angst and amplified by the perils and pleasures of mainstream success. This week's album is Hollywood's Bleeding, the new album from Post Malone. Every week, we tell you about an album we think you need to spend time with.
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