Top Dawg Entertainment first signed Jay Rock in 2005, in the wake of the Game's The Documentary. At the time, the Dr. Dre-sanctioned multiplatinum album seemed to promise a resurgence for Cali gangsta rap, which might reclaim the throne it abdicated in the mid-'90s after the death of 2Pac. Instead, Game’s Shady/Aftermath/G-Unit connection combusted spectacularly with the record still fresh in stores and L.A.’s stronghold broke, as Snoop became a ward of the Neptunes, Dre tinkered with a third album we’ve only just come to hear this summer, and everyone else fought nobly but ultimately lost footing in the mainstream for good.

This was the climate that Jay Rock found himself facing when he geared up to release his debut studio album Follow Me Home*.* The album's singles stalled, its release date languished, and it only saw release in 2011, when it sounded like a formalist relic amid the then-just-emerging DJ Mustard, YG, Ty Dolla $ign and Tyga. It stalled at retail, quietly matched for sales (but surpassed in acclaim) by Kendrick Lamar’s insular, world-weary Section.80, released the same month.

Four years later, Kendrick is the sun around which more than just TDE revolves: his gold and platinum successes have bushwhacked a space for young poetic everymen to coexist at radio. Jay Rock might not ever be top dog at his label again, but the lessons of his first failure to launch – that a magnetic persona and perspective outstrip shiny celebrity cosigns and cookie cutter image constructs every time – are crucial to the success of the TDE machine. Jay Rock’s taken the message to heart on his sophomore album 90059, which dramatically shifts the focus of his studio work from making him look tough and cool to illuminating the human struggles beneath.

good kid, m.A.A.d city’s “Money Trees” introduce a lot of listeners unfamiliar with Jay Rock’s history to his talents, so it’s fitting that the pre-album single to 90059 is a sequel: "Money Trees Deuce." The song is an excellent point of entry into the new album’s mood; its panoramic view of West Coast street life is more nuanced than old Jay Rock records, and the production freely traverses styles. The jazz rap of “Money Trees Deuce”, Dilla homage of “Fly on the Wall”, post-Dre Cali thump of “Necessary”, Southernplayalistic future soul of “Wanna Ride”, and Shaolin swordplay of “90059” collide, each a little bit of seasoning in this gumbo, as Rock notes on track three.

90059’s expanded palette allows the rapper to stretch out too, and he dazzles with limber diction and stunning, cinematic imagery. Opener “Necessary” unfurls the story of a drunken drive-by in lurid detail: “On Forgiato rim tire, automatics spit fire/ Yack in the black canister, look at this bastard go/ It don’t take much to aim, fingers be snatching souls”. Later, “Telegram (Going Krazy)” uses an almost imperceptible hairpin slight of tongue (“I see the telegram goin’ crazy/ I tell the ‘Gram I’m goin’ crazy”) to trip off the story of a couple drifting apart because one is freer with her emotions on social media than she is in close quarters with her lover.

Jay Rock’s concepts are braver and weirder here, his words more arresting and illustrative, but the major reinvention of 90059 is his delivery. On “Easy Bake”, Rock hovers around the high end of his register to counteract Kendrick’s deeper, richer tone. He’s singing a lot now, too, and not in the gruff gangster-on-Easter-Sunday mode of Follow Me Home. The melodic turns on 90059’s “Telegram (Going Krazy)” and “Money Trees Deuce” are unfussed and soulful, while the title track has a drunken Ol’ Dirty Bastard energy completely unfamiliar to Rock's catalog. The album’s bolder vocal turns are credited to a “Lance Skiiiwalker”, but Lance is about as distinguishable from Rock as T.I. was from T.I.P. or Biggie from bizarro Biggie on “Gimme the Loot.” Cuts like “Gumbo” and “The Ways” juggle all of these tricks to showcase a lyricist gracefully in control of his instrument. It's a heartening showcase, and a reminder of just how much vitality there is in TDE's orbit.