TyFontaine Still Hasn't Quite Hit The Next Level On '264'

Even though the biggest hit on Internet Money’s debut B4 The Storm belonged to Don Toliver, Gunna, and Nav, the show-stealing honors instead went to a burgeoning artist from the DMV named TyFontaine.

Tracks like “Right Now” and “Take It Slow” showcased his easily-inflected vocals, as he navigated from distorted to high-pitched with ease. Since then, he’s put out seven albums, carefully balancing his dedication to manipulating his voice and crafting a memorable hit built for mass consumption.

This combination works best on “Dos,” the lead single of TyFontaine’s third record of the year, 264. Its shimmering and glitchy beat gives a clear runway for the auto-crooned hook, rapped in tandem with summrs, to soar in its self-indulgence. Also joining the two are Joony and TTM Dawg who almost sound as if they’re trying to one-up each other with their levels of debauchery.

No other track on the album quite reaches the chaotic peak of its lead single, but the deep cuts paint a more intimate picture of the 23-year-old. On “Fashion,” he sings about keeping his girl up-to-date on all the recent trends over a lavish beat built for the penthouse in the dead of night. His verse on the song is vapid (“We got exotic, exotic in air / Smell like a elephant farted”) but he makes up for it thanks to his convincing singing on the hook.

TyFontaine further deepens his R&B bag on “Charge It to the Game,” but instead of dedicating a slick display of his vocal chops to the ladies, he pays homage to his first love: money. The backing instrumental is as relaxed as Ty’s singing, making it easy to forget about the materialistic emptiness in the lyrics (“Finna charge it to the game, but I think it’s gon’ decline”).

The album’s best beats and vocal performances may be reserved for the more uninteresting lyrics, but 264 isn’t devoid of any substance. “Motel 69” tackles Ty’s attempt to move from a failed attempt at love while the eponymous finale sees him rapping over a minimalistic string-led beat about the total number of hours he’s spent honing his craft. The introspection is a welcome addition to the album, but Ty isn’t a technically impressive rapper; he’s serviceable, but his true calling lies in hit-making and crooning over sad-boy cyberpunk beats.

“Wetty” lies in the middle of those two categories, with Ty using his signature inflected voice to sing about the infatuated looks he draws from women when they see him living luxuriously. He’s once again not saying much, but it’s easy to ignore when he sings as confidently as he does. “Croak,” despite sounding like a borrowed beat from a forgotten Playboi Carti recording session, works because of Ty’s infectious hook and high-energy delivery.

At just 20 minutes, 264 packs in a few bangers, some songs for the ladies, and moments of self-reflection. It doesn’t quite exemplify everything Ty can do best, but it can serve as a capable starting point for those new to his discography. It lacks any career-defining tracks, but expands the TyFontaine lore and shows what he can do when he’s inspired by his production.