Precipice

Precipice

A dangerous ledge.

Ascension, at least visually, is the process of something getting harder and harder to see clearly. Old school rap fans have to squint to recognize their hallowed genre these days—America’s new sweetheart. Even without diluting the content, the sparkling new party-vibe exterior has completely compromised the raw edge that once made it a niche category. Take the 2016 song of the summer, Broccoli—never has a Columbine reference (in the first couplet no less) flown more under the radar. Miguel evokes the same tragedy (and a host of others) to deflating effect in Criminal—the atmospheric synths and familiar pop feel takes the punch out of his words. It might be the same genre, but it looks a lot more polished from all the way down here.

Precipice

The cusp of greatness.

This weekend’s proceedings will lack two green luminaries—Marcus Rashford and Kylian Mbappé. After taking a club break and finding goals for their international squads, the pair are taking a short hiatus to find their heads after losing them in their respectful (albeit disrespectful) competitive matches. A 93rd minute shove and an unbecoming forehead-five were the first signs of a bubbling resentment that forms when talent becomes target. A look at both Ronaldo and Neymar’s disciplinary pasts solidifies this point in a career, between 18 and 21, as the moment of petulant reckoning. Only time will tell if they have the mettle to assume their roles as marked men and become truly iconic.