When Conway the Machine launched his imprint, Drumwork Music Group, in 2020, he declared it “another branch on the Griselda label tree,” in the vein of cousin Benny the Butcher’s Black Soprano Family. Even with this clarification, though, Conway’s subsequent retirement tweets earlier this year—along with his absence from the collective’s film debut Conflicted and its accompanying soundtrack—became grist for the rumor mill. Amid speculation of his departure, Conway opens La Maquina with a larger chip on his shoulder than usual.
Opener “Bruiser Brody” promptly squashes reports of tension between Conway and Westside Gunn. “I started Drumwork, and people think it’s beef with my brother/Maybe every endeavor, we supposed to eat with each other,” Conway raps, pledging that his next chapter will be his best. Over JR Swiftz’s menacing production, he sounds invigorated: “Reinvented myself—this the Machine redesigned.” This statement of reinvention proves to be the thesis of La Maquina, and it’s a promise he keeps across the album’s 11 tracks.
Conway’s most impressive retooling is his experimentation with new flows. Since his electrifying appearance on Juicy J’s 2020 album The Hustle Continues, he’s become a notably less rigid rapper, slipping into different pockets like denim. On “KD,” he channels “Bodak Yellow”-era Cardi B while weaving in and out of producer Murda Beatz’s sprinkling of keys. “Scatter Brain” sees him rapping ahead of the beat and shrewdly withholding punchlines. The bars themselves are standard Conway fare—a mix of gallows humor, gun talk, sports references, and the odd pearl either reminiscing on drug dealing or mourning those snatched up by the system—but all these tweaks in his delivery help lighten his hardened bars.
As recently as his last proper Griselda album, 2020’s From King to a GOD, Conway has leaned toward the pomp of contemporary mainstream beats. La Maquina takes his fascination to the next level, bringing producers like Bangladesh and Don Cannon into the fold for the most luxurious tracks Conway has ever touched. Bangladesh’s “6:30 Tip Off” recreates the game-day atmosphere, complete with a swelling horn sample and skittish drums. Cannon’s “Clarity” and “Scatter Brain” both place rattling hi-hats and snares over ominous vocal samples. Conway relishes the challenge, claiming he could pull a muscle handling all his money and inviting haters to watch “this Rolls I parked.” None of these songs approach the gloss of Benny’s recent Burden of Proof, but there’s a neat balance between glitz and grime.