32 is a symphony of stress. It’s what spawns from 22 years of the psyche eroding the soul. It’s a declaration of internal and external war: man versus environment, addiction, and gruesome anxiety. It’s the debut from Dallas artist, T.Y.E released by POW Recordings. It’s an alternately baleful and beautiful record, an Edvard Munch scream in rap form, a suicide note unsigned, a love letter to his neighborhood and a condemnation of what it forced him to do to survive.
In some ways, T.Y.E is reminiscent of Z-Ro if he’d been raised in the Dungeon Family instead of the Screwed Up Click. "32" slightly recalls Organized Konfusion in its haunting fog of anxiety and depression. It’s stress rap in the way that Cannibal Ox meant it, where the art is the only salvation and even then, it’s unclear how successful it will be. The video for “La La Land” strikes the tone of “Codeine Crazy” if Future had never made it out the mud, and was forced to grapple with his demons without the benefit of being able to fly to the Bahamas on a whim. The truth is that T.Y.E doesn’t sound like any of these guys. If you're wondering, he made all the beats too.
Oak Cliff is the hood—a section of Dallas that has produced many of the region’s most talented rappers and infamous gangsters–where T.Y.E attended Carter High and starred on a basketball team that went undefeated in one of Texas’ toughest leagues. It’s also where he discovered that he had a baritone that would make Pavarotti be like “damn son, where’d you find this.” It helped him win an opera scholarship to Abilene Christian, which he attended briefly before being diagnosed with bipolar depression.
After leaving school, he returned to the Cliff, got embroiled in a bunch of situations that probably shouldn’t be in a Bandcamp, and eventually started rapping. "32" is the first opus in what figures to be a very long and interesting career.