The Sun’s Tirade by Isaiah Rashad
Revisiting the Chattanooga rapper’s debut studio album, 4 years later
Released back in September 2016, The Sun’s Tirade was Isaiah Rashad’s debut studio album with Top Dawg Entertainment. Following 2014’s Cilvia Tape Demo mixtape, Rashad came back into the limelight 2 years later with an album full of soulful production detailing his bouts with depression, self-doubt, and family. With the release of his newest single “Lay Wit Ya” his first taste of new music in nearly 5 years, alongside the anticipation for his follow-up album, The House Is Burning, slated for release next month, let’s revisit one of the most underrated rap albums of the past decade.
From a production standpoint, Rashad opts for a more relaxed calm sound on The Sun’s Tirade. A lot of slowed boom-bap bass, groovy hooks with an emphasis on minimal instrumentals as opposed to the heavy southern rap influence on Cilvia Tape, and the West-Coast fuelled projects of TDE’s other members (ScHoolboy Q, Kendrick Lamar, etc.).The productions shines on the summery, simplistic glimmer of “Tity and Dola”, the bluesy Outkast-Esque “Rope // Rosegold”, the minimal bass-heavy “Park” or the Mike WiLL Made-It helmed “A Lot”. Even Rashad’s delivery differs from his last effort, his vocals are more drawl and soothing. His voice stumbles and croaks on some songs, at times he damn near has to stop to catch his breath. If anything I find that it just adds to Rashad’s musings of self-loathing and coping.
Rashad spends the majority of the album illustrating his mentality in the years leading up to the album’s 2016 release, a contrast to the album’s bright instrumentals but in a way it makes sense. By Isaiah’s definition, a sun’s tirade means a long and hot day with the sun beating down on you. You’re tired and contemplating about what you did the whole time, with Rashad’s case, it’s an allegory for the troubles he faced at that point. He had been dealing with alcohol and Xanax addiction, two things that nearly got him kicked out of TDE. On top of that, coping with depression, the struggles of being a father and a provider to his family considering his status as a rapper weaned heavily on Rashad. He illustrates his melancholy with clear cadence throughout the album, ironic considering the heavy subject matter.
Rashad is cool, calm, and collected on the opener “4 da Squaw”. He understands the responsibilities of being a father, staying sober, and realizing the benefits of being a successful artist if he maintains his composure. Evident by the song’s music video showing Rashad and his son Yari having fun on a pier in Santa Monica. He may not have a lot of money on him, but he still feels rich knowing his son is happy with him. “Free Lunch” is Rashad looking at his friends and family putting in work, some working at Coca-Cola or others dealing drugs, either way, they're finding a way to be stable. The song’s name coming from Rashad’s social security number, as an underprivileged school kid it entitled him to free lunch. The deeper meaning on the song’s hook (“meal ticket, ticket. Meal ticket, ticket, comma, ugh.”) Can be seen as one’s own meal ticket based on their numbers in their bank account. The meal could refer to actual food or other lavishes that can be entitled to you.
The two-parter “Rope // rosegold” sees Rashad battle his dark side. He thanks god though for lending him a rope, the “rope” can either pull him up from his dark place or leave him to hang. “Wat’s Wrong” continues the trend with help from Kendrick Lamar, acting as his guidance to pursue righteousness through rap. He slumbers back into his addiction on “Bday”. Rashad sounds tipsy as his drink starts talking to him, proclaiming “how can you tell the truth to a crowd of white people?” Fear of his cry for help and self-loathing will be lost to a group of well-off suburban people that just wanna turn up. The SZA assisted “Stuck in the Mud” has Rashad talk about the reaper providing him with luxury in exchange for popping pills to keep his other problems away: (“Just pop a xanny! Make your problems go away, see I can handle, make the bottle go away!”).
He explores topics of sex and fame throughout “A Lot” and “Don’t Matter”. The aptly named “AA” (alcoholics anonymous) expresses Rashad’s recklessness of his alcoholism and how he rose up out of it through the song’s refrain (“But thank God I got my bank where I keep my heart inside, and I keep it far away from all these hoes and flashing lights.”). “Dressed Like Rappers” looks at the life of being a rapper, how it made him more depressed, and questioning whether this life is meant for everyone. “Brenda”, dedicated to Rashad’s late grandmother has him heed her words “you can’t save em’ all”, perhaps his way of saying he can’t save everybody he meets in life unless he saves himself.
The album comes to a close with “by george (outro)” and “Find a Topic (homies begged)”. The former track making him feel nostalgic being with a woman as he has an epiphany that being with somebody like her is the comedown he needs from his struggles. The latter “Find a Topic” is a vibey closer where he raps about his favourite things (“Money, fuckin, love it.”). His delivery here indicates that he’s fully recovered and on a better path with less stress and worries on him.
The Sun’s Tirade uses its airy production and Isaiah’s calm delivery to contrast his battles with addiction, mental health and self-worth in a way very few rap albums have done. There’s no better way to describe this album than the word vibey, it’s simply just that. It’s also an album I find myself revisiting in times of my own self-doubt, with Rashad’s words being the voice saying “don’t worry, I was there too.” It’s definitely a project I loved when it first came out in September 2016, and its lyrics and production just grows and resonates with me as I get older. If you haven’t heard The Sun’s Tirade, I highly encourage you to give it a listen.
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