Chance the Rapper
The other day, I was in the shower when "Good Ass Intro" by Chance the Rapper came on. Instantly, the first "Aah" brought a huge smile to my face, flooding me with nostalgia. I couldn’t help but wonder—what the hell happened to this guy? After stepping out of the shower, I dove headfirst down the rabbit hole of old Chance. Damn, we had it so good. I can’t help but believe that if he had stuck with that vibe, depression might not even be a thing. I mean, seriously, who thought we'd ever be asking, "Why did he stop the acid?" or "Why does he love his wife so much?" But for me, it’s deeper than just surface-level changes.
Chance was 19 when he dropped 10 Day. He was young—really young—but his sound was pure energy. It felt like he delivered every line with a big smile plastered on his face. There was an unfiltered joy that radiated from his music, and as an independent artist, that authenticity came through loud and clear. Then, a year later, after the buzz from 10 Day, Chance leveled up. With the money he made, he reinvested in his sound and dropped what’s still my favorite of his projects: Acid Rap. That mixtape was a meteor—it skyrocketed him to fame faster than anyone expected. Everybody was talking about it.
Just look at the features: Twista, Noname, Childish Gambino, Ab-Soul, and more. The balance was perfect—some solo tracks, some features—exactly how a project should flow. Acid Rap wasn’t just a mixtape; it was a cultural moment. Chance had captured lightning in a bottle.
Fast forward to 2016: Chance links up with the one and only Kanye West. They clicked immediately and started working together a lot. And let’s be real, Kanye is the kind of artist who thrives off collaboration. He pulls in different musicians like instruments, using them to create the best possible sound. Take "Ultralight Beam," for instance—the opener to The Life of Pablo. It features Chance and brings together almost six different artists, each contributing something unique to the masterpiece. Kanye's a master at creating a cohesive sound from chaos. But here’s where things start to shift for Chance.
When Chance released Coloring Book in 2016, it felt like he was trying to emulate Kanye’s approach. The mixtape has only one solo song. Don’t get me wrong, Coloring Book is great, but you could feel that Chance wasn’t quite Kanye. Where Kanye orchestrates and pulls strings, Chance tries to vibe with everyone on the track, often matching their energy instead of demanding they match his. Take "Mixtape," for example, with Lil Yachty and Young Thug. It sounds like Chance is trying to resurrect the chemistry of Rich Homie Quan and Young Thug by rapping like them instead of sounding like himself. It worked for Coloring Book, but this, to me, is where the slow decline began.
Chance was in a happy place—he had married the love of his life and figured it was the perfect time to drop his debut album, The Big Day. But when it came out, the quality nosedived in a way that felt like it came out of nowhere. The hype was massive, but the reaction was almost universally negative. No one was feeling it. The album was loaded with features that clashed with his usual vibe, making it feel like he had sold out. Shawn Mendes? Really? This was the Kanye effect taken too far. Chance thought he could build a musical world like Kanye, pulling in artists as puzzle pieces, but instead, it felt disjointed, forced.
And then, the unthinkable—his marriage, the very thing that had once inspired him, didn’t last. In a cruel twist, the relationship that coincided with his creative decline was over in less than five years.
But in the past year, Chance has started showing signs of life again. He’s dropped a few singles that are really solid—almost hinting at a potential comeback. One of them, "Stars Out," has been on repeat for me since its release. It’s genuinely good. Maybe—just maybe—we’re on the verge of seeing a full-blown Chance the Rapper resurgence. Sent from my iPhone