The Detroit visionary revels in hyperpop, club, and confession for a messy, euphoric reset that only he could pull off
Danny Brown has never stayed in the lane people try to force him into. From the grimy psychedelia of his 2016 critical darling ‘Atrocity Exhibition’ – a maelstrom of fractured industrial beats and self-immolation – to the rough-cut confessions on 2023’s ‘Quaranta’, he’s always balanced Detroit grit with the absurd and hyper-futuristic. On his seventh album ‘Stardust’, and his first since rehab to curb alcohol and drug use, rap’s oddball returns sharper and clearer than ever, ready to share his take on what a pop album should be.
- Record label: Warp
- Release date: November 7, 2025
The album opens with ‘The Book of Daniel’, where – over sentimental keys and placid guitar – Brown borrows the endurance and triumph of the biblical fable of a young boy in the lions’ den: “A God MC ’cause he talks through me / Just a vessel with a message / In due time, you’ll see.” Having clawed through his cage of addiction and now aware of his own power, no longer enslaved by the chaos. Later, on the 8485-assisted ‘Flowers’, the lions that once represented his troubles become symbols of survival as Brown raps about becoming one himself and stalking his prey. This tension – self versus self, structure versus anarchy – becomes the heartbeat of ‘Stardust’.
From there, the album detonates into hyperpop and digital maximalism. ‘Starburst’ explodes with blown-out synths and pummelling percussion, Brown’s cartoonish rasp slicing through skittering 808s and metallic flourishes. ‘Copycats’ featuring Underscores is the perfect mix of that 2010s recession pop’s frenetic carefree nature and the glittering brilliance of hyperpop – glitchy and playful, yet brimming with that rap bravado from Brown: “Do what I do, I’ma make my own rules / No lies, I’m the truth when I step in that booth.”
Across the record, he connects with the digital radicals from EDM, hyperpop and digicore – Frost Children, Quadeca, Jane Remover and more – but Brown remains the chief. As he ricochets through twitchy rave pulses, sugar-corroded pop sheen and chrome-filmed club futurism, Brown is still unmistakably himself – even if not all experimentation lands perfectly. ‘1999’ is almost deliberately disorienting: abrasive screams from the Texan guest JOHNNASCUS clash with Brown’s racing verses, more vertigo-inducing rather than melodious. ‘Whatever The Case’ dazzles with implosive, hypnotic fun before it’s marred by the casual flinging of the F-slur by IssBrokie, a reminder that chaos is not always virtuous.
But beneath all the frazzled fluff, there is some real heart. On ‘What You See’ with Quadeca, Brown quietens his signature delivery over a glimmering backdrop for a deliberately intimate moment about self-esteem, lust and infidelity. ‘The End’ and ‘All4U’, though, stand as the album’s emotional fulcrum, where Brown’s confessional vulnerability meets the full force of his experimental ambition. ‘The End’ with Ta Ukrainka and Zheani begins pensive and hypnotic, confronting addiction, shame and self-doubt front-on before erupting into a frenetic, high-octane cluster of synths, percussion and unhinged energy – a sonic representation of clawing back from the edge. Afterwards, ‘All4U’ is a radiant encore, spacey yet grounded, almost a benediction: gratitude for fans, for music as salvation, for the ability to turn chaos into creation.
‘Stardust’ is survival in motion – a man confronting his past and navigating a new path while refusing to let the edge that defines him slip away. Through all the chaos – controlled, untamed, electric – the album carries one unshakable message: love is the only drug, the only medicine, the only force capable of carrying you through the lions’ cage.