

And though it's unlikely that any of his self-produced songs will resonate on the scale of his biggest hits, they're some of the most unusual sounds of an already unusual career. Producing makes sense for him: Keef's always been more concerned with vibe than meaning, and production is his most efficient tool to create a mood without getting bogged down by pesky syntax. Though there are still some kinks to be worked out (or not!), like a tendency for off-time snares, he seems to have a knack for beats-after all, Young Chop's been training him since at least last December. Over the past month or so, he's been releasing a steady stream of his own productions over Youtube and Instagram, and the recently revealed tracklist for Back From the Dead 2 (due out on Halloween) promises Keef's own productions on all but four of its 20 tracks. It's fitting, then, that Keef's latest obsession allows him to express himself in a completely different way. Those tapes begged the question: what does it mean to be a rapper when you no longer have a real use for language? It often felt like compensation for how uncomfortable he felt in the spotlight. If nothing else, critically panned 2013 mixtapes like Bang 2 and Almighty So (the latter of which deserves a second chance) tested the limits of what Keef could get away with, eschewing any sort of discernible meaning for pointed unintelligibility. Since Finally Rich, his divisive 2012 major label debut, Keef hasn't released anything resembling the directness of his breakthroughs even last year's super-catchy "Macaroni Time" was just a little too weird to catch on. Keef's no-fucks-given approach to celebrity hasn't helped, but that's always been the case what's changed has been his approach to hit-making, or rather, his straight up rejection of it.

Interscope, who dropped him from their roster last week, certainly won't be putting any out. Now 19, he remains the poster-boy for drill (or what's left of it), but judging by the headlines of the past couple years, you'd hardly know he still makes music at all. Two years and change after 2012's Chicago street-rap boom, it's hard to think of a more dramatic fall from almost-mainstream grace than that of Chief Keef.
