The debut full-length release from Maxx Wright, The Best Is Yet To Come.. immerses with its atmospheric hip-hop sound and themes of perseverance. Wright draws from his past life experiences, from nearly fatal drug addiction to finding love, in addition to a sense of modern crisis — where, at age 25, depression and bad habits continue to creep in, and the “naivety and innocence” of adolescence are gone. “It was from this place that I began to write, every night, not with the intention of anything other than to pour my heart out and navigate my way through this quarter life crisis,” Wright says.
Opening the album with stirring qualities, “The Enemy” enthralls in its soul-baring lyricism and atmospheric backing — infused with solemn acoustics and emerging guitar twangs. “I turned 25 about a week ago, I’m still getting high, they don’t need to know,” Wright’s vocals exude with melancholic introspection. Depictions of infusing oneself into social situations, in striving to avoid feelings of loneliness, are relatable and impactful — culminating in a depiction of oneself as an enemy against personal progress.
The ensuing “Cycles” captivates in its navigation of the human experience, and the range of emotions that emerge on a daily basis as adulthood takes hold. “Some days I feel pain, some days I feel God,” Wright ruminates, expanding into a gorgeous mid-point where rain-falling, wordless vocal dreaminess, and lush acoustic arpeggios complement a yearning sample and Wright’s stark vocal push: “What do you do when you don’t got a plan, but everybody round says you gotta be a man and grow up.” Artful reflections of personal ambitions minimizing as one grows older proves heartrending, desiring survival out of necessity rather than childhood’s world-changing fervency.
Another highlight arises with “Low Again,” a moody success whose production fondly resembles James Blake in its hazy title-centric hook and piano-touched solemnity. Wright’s verses convey an admirable precision rhythmically, poetically capturing inner-voices that emerge during personal strife. The album dazzles in its nocturnal atmospherics, as it does here, and also with more scorching vibrancy — such as with “Eulogy.” There, initial scorching guitar tones and subsequent glistening keys complement a “I know that I’ll be fine” vocal confidence, beckoning to make the most of being alive and celebrating positive people — “if it wasn’t for my mother…” — who help highlight the fragile beauty of life and importance to “make the most of it.”
Album finale “Do It All Again” invigorates in its resemblance to a playbook on life, urging one to find their passion and fully embrace it. The “make a million songs…” lyrical output instills Wright’s personal journey, of turning hardship and experience into riveting songcraft, while culminating in the universal “find your passion and run like hell” adieu, finalizing the album with a touching “best is yet to come” burst of optimism.
