We're spared any terrible, for-the-ladies slow jams, dubstep crossovers or introspective lyricism in favor of an unmatched devotion to pan-regional music about strippers made to be yelled along with while standing on couches.įrench Montana is very rarely the best part of a French Montana song, and his approach reflects knowledge of this fact by taking us on a mixtape-style tour through his extensive contact list.
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In this case, though, French Montana's wise decision to keep the blustering tone consistent holds the album together. Plus, albums like "Excuse My French," which relies on a different producer for nearly every track and features multiple label rosters worth of guests, have a tendency to become bloated, over-budget messes without any sense of fun. His voice is unremarkably gravelly, his delivery is blocky and his lyrics stick to the obvious. Like his fellow torchbearer of contemporary New York hip-hop A$AP Rocky, French Montana is not a particularly memorable rapper, nor one who has many ties to any local sound. Yet while it's amazing the record is finally here, it's a borderline miracle that "French" is actually awesome. The perpetually delayed release of French Montana's debut full-length "Excuse My French" has become a running joke among rap fans.