You Think You Know Him

The first line uttered in experimental producer-rapper JPEGMafia (aka Peggy)’s fifth studio album, I Lay Down My Life For You (2024), is “[i]f I was an NBA player, I’d be Dillon Brooks, but worse.” Like the notoriously combative basketball player, he has a remarkable knack for inciting controversy. Since his debut, Peggy has garnered acclaim for the unapologetic anarcho-communist themes he infuses into his music, but he’s also faced criticism for the puzzling abrasiveness of his persona, shown in overtly edgy lyrics and a gratuitously heated Twitter beef with Freddie Gibbs. I Lay Down My Life For You presents itself as an introspective attempt to make sense of this infamous guise. Production-wise, it’s an ambitious, genre-volatile spectacle: an amalgamation of trap, pop, rock, and funk that retains the avant-garde quality of Peggy’s discography. Thematically, it’s his most contemplative record to date. Peggy focuses on his mental health, revealing the depression and self-hatred within his controversial belligerence. 

Throughout the first half of the album, Peggy over-emphasizes his harshness and eccentricities in his lyrics. In “It’s Dark and Hell is Hot,” Peggy accompanies a fast-paced Brazilian funk sample with absurdly objectifying bars like “[w]alk in that [EXPLETIVE], ayy, stick a fork in that [EXPLETIVE], ayy.” “New Black History” features a laid-back guest verse from Vince Staples—one which Peggy juxtaposes with offbeat assertions like “[t]hese rappers fell off, they in status, makin’ statements / They status is peeing in cups” while a braggadocious vocal sample from Future’s “Covered N Money” is injected between lyrics. He throws a Drake diss in, too, rapping “'[es]pecially when y’all cashing out for PDFs and rapers (No Drizzy)” in light of recent revelations from the Kendrick Lamar-Drake feud. (Famously, Peggy was the Toronto rapper’s number-one hater until Kendrick stole his spot.) “Vulgar Display of Power” is the album’s most explicitly rock-inspired track: it’s dominated by intense guitars and hoarse, warlike grunts; its post-chorus repeats a sample of Wu-Tang member Method Man aggressively chanting “I bring the pain, I bring the pain.” These tracks are musically impressive, but that quality isn’t unusual for Peggy’s music. Instead, they elucidate his characteristic volatility, which he deconstructs in the album’s latter half.

After the triumphant, jazz-inspired “JPEGUltra” (which includes a feature from Denzel Curry) the album takes a drastic tonal shift. The production quietens, and Peggy’s lyrics become more vulnerable. “Either On or Off the Drugs” is jarringly melancholy. Peggy abandons rock, but retains his distinctive unorthodoxy by sampling a soothing AI-generated blues cover of Future’s “Turn On the Lights.” His delivery is somber and resigned, but there’s still a bizarre, sarcastic element to his lyrics: he complains about his ex-girlfriend’s infidelity by rapping “[s]he be actin’ like a [EXPLETIVE], I hope it’s all an act ‘cause she deserves a Tony.” He remarks on his abusive childhood, claiming “[a]in’t no happy house, we takin’ beatings / The streets and my mind is filled with demons” before rapidly switching gears and spitting “[t]hat’s why I be eatin’ these [EXPLETIVE]s like Sara and Tegan,” referencing an indie duo made up of two lesbians to allude to his sex acts with women. Given the heavy subject matter of the track, Peggy’s continued and frequent usage of quirky pop culture nods creates a jarring contrast emblematic of his own idiosyncratic, internet-derived style. However, there are times when Peggy’s words turn strikingly serious and grim: at the end of his main verse, he hauntingly raps “God, I pray my son won’t be this weak / God, I pray my daughter won’t be this weak” as strings layered over the AI vocals raise in pitch.

The album’s closer, “I Recovered from This,” is the climax of its emotional narrative. Peggy samples airy Janet Jackson vocals from her song “Funny How Time Flies” as he laments over a breakup. After an album of boastful bars alluding to his sexual exploits and superiority to other rappers, Peggy demonstrates an unexpected humility and self-deprecation in his lyrics, admitting “my [EXPLETIVE] never got taken from me, I lost her myself / My [EXPLETIVE] never got comfort from me, I needed too much help.” He then displays a willingness to move on from his past, saying he’s “got family and fences to mend”—revisiting the childhood trauma he introduced in “Either On or Off the Drugs.” Additionally, Peggy elaborates on his controversial online personality, explaining how he “gotta keep the facade of a boss” despite his struggles. Eventually, his voice lowers, and he mutters, “I can’t believe that this girl got me breakin’ / I’m breaking like this.” “I Recovered from This” is Peggy’s breakthrough, a re-assertion of his yearning for human attachment. His “Dillon Brooks” act is unraveling; Peggy realizes that it’s not compatible with his desire for the approval of others and ends the track imbued with a drive to improve his relationships and himself. 

As the track finishes, Peggy mumbles, “[a]lright, that’s it / I’m done, I finally finished this [EXPLETIVE] / Finally. I’ve been workin’ on this [EXPLETIVE] for a long time” while Jackson’s singing gradually overpowers his voice. His delivery is bittersweet and relieved; his voice cracks, and he chuckles to himself. It’s the first time in the album he conveys any form of genuine happiness. Peggy hasn’t wholly resolved his emotional hardships, but in finishing his album, he’s sublimated them.

Ironically, I Lay Down My Life For You’s distinctive vulnerability still captures Peggy’s provocative spirit. It’s mature and reflective, in part because it’s full of niche references, unconventional samples, and confusing bars. He’s exhibiting his ability to tackle serious themes by doubling down on what he is most bashed for, defying critics in the process. The album still brims with Peggy’s chronically online edginess– but that doesn’t make its messages any less sincere.