Hip-hop’s felt empty in recent years, largely because the art of writing has taken a backseat. It’s why Denzel Curry’s recent proclamation about mainstream rap’s decline doesn’t feel like a pretentious statement from a rap purist but an accurate assessment of the times. Rap isn’t selling the way it once did–but that in and of itself is a gift and a curse. Hip-hop’s commercialization has hampered its creativity in many ways, especially in the streaming era. Sample snitching has become an existential threat to producers, and rappers risk both creative and financial consequences if they try freestyling over those beats for free.
J Cole’s Birthday Blizzard ‘26 harkens back to the days when jackin’ for beats was the prerequisite before an album, offering fans just a raw display of skill. A tradition that has died down as places like DatPiff and LiveMixtapes shut down shop, and record labels and artists alike became far more diligent about getting their fair share of anything related to their catalog. But with the help of the direct-to-consumer platform EVEN, Cole finds an alternative to the major label and streaming system to deliver a bite-sized project that leans on an era of rap that fueled his hunger during his come-up.
The four-track EP feels like a return to form for J Cole and a pocket of comfort where the rules and regulations of rap music and the industry take a backseat to just an excellent showcase of his lyrical dynamics. Frankly, when you strip away the nuances of hip-hop politics and the drama surrounding J. Cole in the past two years, it’s a stern reminder of why he’s stood as tall for as long as he has. Once that context re-enters, the EP’s impact weakens, especially when you factor in his critiques of other rappers’ authenticity and his own withdrawal from a rap beef.
Across the four-song project hosted by DJ Clue, underscored by a Bad Boy production from the Shiny Suit era, Cole rings in his 41st birthday with the type of fire and vigor that actually has been lacking throughout the entirety of his catalog. This type of confrontation should’ve appeared a few years back when it was needed, and that might be the underlying curse of this project. J Cole is flexing his pen at full force during a period of widespread doubt, but the question is: did he need everyone to doubt him to show his ass out completely?
Apparently so. Halfway through “Bronx Zoo,” his (second) take on Diddy’s “Victory,” he likens his attitude toward rappers to Charleston White, and immediately follows it up with how people have been hating on him. “The top ain't really what I thought it would be/ And so I jumped off and landed back at the bottom/ And restarted at a level where I wasn't regarded as much/ Just to climb past them again and tell 'em all to keep up,” Cole raps. Unfortunately, this sounds like more of a deflection. Cole fumbled the crown in his home state of all places. It’s hard to accept that he purposefully “jumped off” from the top spot when we saw him throw in the towel in real-time. But his closing bars later reframe this fall from grace more accurately: “I used to be top seed/ Apology dropped me way out of the top three/No problem, I'm probably my best when they doubt me.”
But when you strip Birthday Blizzard EP of its historical context, then Cole being at his best isn’t really the big reveal that this tape was intended to be. No one really questioned Cole’s skill, and those who did likely fell into the category of those who he believes made it from dick riding or hating. As an exercise of skill, it’s an excellent four-song project that would win any non-believer over. It’s a better display of Cole’s technical flow than his conviction. Punny throwaway bars like “The K’s pop like Asian rappers” or punchlines like “teach a man how to fish/ And the lesson is this: without a pole, you're useless,” come across as empty bravado that relies on the most basic principles of generic battle rap angles. It’s the type of bars that would wow a crowd during a 30-second round of Freestyle Friday rather than on a URL stage. Not bad by any measure, but certainly a low-hanging fruit for someone of J Cole’s stature.
However, the lines that penetrate the most effectively often reflect the specificity of the landscape of rap. “Golden Goose Freestyle” offers a takeaway on Lucien Grainge’s grip on the music industry, but specifically, the controversial nature of 360 deals that propel certain artists to the top. It’s difficult not to look at it as a shot at Drake following the UMG lawsuits. He lands his sharpest blows when referencing current events—whether it’s his questionable name-drop of Lori Harvey or comparing himself to Anthony Edwards and Michael Jordan on the "Winter Storm Freestyle."
J. Cole’s pen hasn’t failed him through the moments of disappointment in his career. Since Sideline Story, Cole has constantly been in a struggle to outdo his last work, and as he mentioned in his announcement for The Fall Off, that has been the primary focus. Birthday Blizzard ‘26 feels like an official precursor that brings us back to a place of both comfort and challenge in his career, where focusing on songs takes a back seat, letting him play free rein without structural limitations. And more than anything, it’s the type of energy that feels missing from rap, if only for the sake of hearing how talented MCs could flip beats and turn them into their own. The production selection, from The LOX’s “Can I Live” and “Money Power Respect” to Diddy’s “Victory” and Biggie’s “Who Shot Ya,” isn’t necessarily redefined through Cole’s lens, but they certainly aren’t tarnished, either. While Cole still might not have the grounds to continue claiming to be the top guy in rap, Birthday Blizzard ‘26 is an adequate reminder that he checks off all other criteria except for confrontation.
User Reviews
HotNewHipHop users rated J. Cole's surprise Birthday Blizzard '26 EP 4.38 out of 5 based on 13 reviews, with one user stating, "This mixtape is a 🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥."
