

Only music really matters, and on that front, FWA is a clear win for Hov’s beleaguered enterprise. It’s as though a new competitor for Tower Records opened every two months boasting better air conditioning. We can be convinced that it’s worth it to be enthralled by a musty old format like Internet radio all over again because this time, the DJs shout at you. We live in an age where we can be sold the exact same product over and over again with a fancy new interface. I had just spent a good portion of my day in the clutches of Apple Music, the latest entrant in an ever-expanding game of dodgeball where the only goal is to pelt consumers with “exciting” new features until they collapse on the ground begging for mercy. I found out FWA was a Tidal exclusive at the worst possible time. When streaming music services are involved, nothing is free. He’s trying to escape, but Weezy is not free in either sense. McCoy from Star Trek informing Captain Kirk of the death of a patient before Wayne launches into a eulogy for “Cash Money Weezy.” It’s an expression of independence and a reclamation of legacy. The second track, “He’s Dead,” kicks off with samples of Dr. Tunechi is a captive of interminable legal strife and this collection of 15 tracks is, in many ways, his message-in-a-bottle cry for help. The other interpretation is something altogether more melancholy: Weezy as prisoner of Cash Money Records’s unwillingness to release Tha Carter V.

In that respect, “Free Weezy Album” could be scrawled on a cardboard sign with a donation hat nearby. You could take it to mean that this new record has been gifted to you by the multi-millionaire, digital equivalent of the guy on Hollywood Boulevard trying to guilt-trip you into taking his mixtape. FWA, the title of Lil Wayne’s new album, stands for “Free Weezy Album,” which can be taken one of two ways.
