star

For all the esoteric mythos and technofeudalist world-building that 2hollis and his legion of devotees built around his music, the Los Angeles-based rapper, not-rapper, and producer’s 2024 record, boy, felt more like a cult coming-of-age classic than a futuristic Lord of the Rings spin-off. Released in the weeks leading up to his breakthrough stint opening on Ken Carson’s Chaos Tour, boy peeled back the palimpsest to emphasize the sincere teenage sentimentality at the core of Hollis’ work. He cooed about awkward crushes and devastating breakups over effervescent, sugary EDM, generating a strangely tender emotional dissonance that resonated with zoomers who grew up mainlining Trap Nation uploads. Most importantly, though, the album was peppered with enough pulverizing low end to win over the mosh-happy Opium fans who’d turned out in droves for Ken’s tour. With his status as an internet rap luminary cemented, 2hollis returns to the mythmaking of his earlier discography with a new album, star. As its title suggests, the new LP explores the highs and lows of being an object of hero worship, backed by festival-ready beats that bang like post-millennial supernovae.

“You preach, I’ll beam, they teach,” Hollis bellows on “Destroy Me,” a sweaty electro-pop workout wedged in star’s center section. He’s still writing love songs, but rather than playing the secret admirer, he’s assumed the role of reluctant cult leader. Free to indulge in his hedonistic impulses, this new Hollis is wired, paranoid, and flaming out in tragic—yet ecstatic—fashion. “Tell Me,” a name-searcher’s lament, weighs contradicting desires to be adored and ignored as layers of plucky, pugnacious bass generate tension. The thematic conflict remains unresolved, leaving Hollis “sick and awake” with visions of a crowd looking up at him in a fresh, melancholy twist on the traditional EDM build/drop structure. As misty synth pads seep in like fog machines and a mechanical kick begins to stomp, fear gives way to cathartic awe.

In Defense of 2hollis

Like 2 and boy before it, star aims closer to pure dance-pop than Hollis’ recent singles suggest. Aside from the interlude-length “sidekick,” there’s little in the way of the skittering rage fusion of “trauma” or the glitchy swag-rap pastiche of “style” here. At the same time, this new batch of floor-fillers also reins in the glittery electroclash maximalism of previous full-lengths. Cleaner textures and leaner arrangements win out on star, which prioritizes throbbing low end over soaring melody: The first half of “flash” is comprised of little more than a chunky bassline and drums, putting greater emphasis on Hollis’ vocals. Without an armor of witch house distortion or future bass opulence, he sounds beautifully vulnerable, light echo on his voice as he sings from the perspective of the “Holli” he can be when the cameras aren’t in his face. As the track progresses, a simple chiptune arpeggio injects a strain of self-assuredness. For the remaining runtime, Hollis takes cues from a classic PC Music single, Life Sim’s “IDL,” by subjecting a single synth arp to a series of mad science experiments to see how its aura changes. The looped bloops drag the track into new keys, ramp up the tempo, and eventually spill out of control as they’re crushed beneath a flurry of hardstyle kicks. The effect is exhilarating, as if we’re bearing witness to a magical girl-style transformation sequence from boy into star.

Some of Hollis’ most exciting production flirts with kitschiness. In a recent interview with i-D, he jokingly referred to new songs as “Coachella bangers,” an apt descriptor for four-on-the-floor heaters “nice” and “nerve,” back-to-back electro-house pinball cabinets full of plucky riffs and synthesized skronk. It’s an unapologetically indulgent section of the record, yet its relatively restrained sound selection and sticky hooks make a satisfying detour between experimental interludes. Even the most explicitly trap-influenced offering, “burn,” feels more indebted to TNGHT’s wonky festival fare than the sleek beatcraft of 808 Mafia: The track’s digital string arrangement and spacious drum programming seems to be an homage to Hudson Mohawke’s work on the intro track from Kanye West Presents: GOOD Music - Cruel Summer, culminating in a wubby beat drop that blows the delicate orchestration to smithereens. It’s ambitious, stadium-sized, and risky—the sound of Hollis wringing his newfound star power for all it’s worth.

Hollis’ two brief stabs at building up star’s world through balladry feel extraneous by comparison. The Bowie-interpolating “cope” lacks the energy to counterbalance its minimalist composition, resembling a languid outtake from Bladee’s Exeter sessions. Acoustic campfire strummer “eldest child” is an interesting attempt at distilling 2hollis’ sound into a raw, Sentridoh-adjacent emo folk song about struggling to keep up appearances. It’s a charming swerve, but the stripped-back approach still doesn’t feel as intimate as the sweat-flecked, in-your-face pulsation of “tell me.” By girding gloom with fidgety house beats and rubberized bass hits, star vividly depicts the frustration of being stuck in your head in the thick of the function. Whether you’re bummed at the center of the moshpit or overstimulated and hugging the wall, Hollis sympathizes. Even idols feel ennui.