Review: Bryson Tiller's "Vices" Win While Mercury Was Retrograde

Bryson Tiller’s The Vices dropped during Mercury Retrograde (Friday, August 8th) — you know, that inescapable celebrity of astrology with social media in a chokehold every few months. While the planet appears to reverse its path from Earth, it’s said to disrupt everything from technology to communication, even tempting exes to spin the block. But beyond the memes and malfunctions, astrologers also frame retrograde as a time for reflection — a tug-of-war between indulgence and introspection. That tension mirrors the emotional and sonic terrain Tiller navigates on The Vices. On the surface, he leans into hard bars, bass, and bravado. But beneath the fog, he signals toward Solace, the second act in this two-part project arriving this fall.

While his self-titled release last year showcased his genre-hopping versatility, The Vices doubles down on the elements that made “Whatever She Wants” a Top 20 Billboard hit — rapping more than serenading, italicizing his emotions with 808s. Tiller taps into the rhythms and regional flavors of Southern rap, giving love to multiple territories: New Orleans bounce shakes up the tempo on “More Than Money”; BabyDrill’s barebones trap creeps through the icy “Make Life Easy.” Florida shows out the most, with 2000s staples Plies and T-Pain alongside the new school’s Luh Tyler and BossMan Dlow. Coastal flows arrive via Rick Ross on the standout “Mini Kelly,” while Houston pulls up on the chopped-and-screwed “Burnout” with a chrome-spun beat and a candy-painted Bun B verse.

Still, Tiller never loses the melody — a welcome thread that keeps the album rooted in his signature sound. The Vices doesn’t play like a playlist of features and flexes; it’s a cohesive trip into another relic of “Whatever She Wants”: the strip club.

As he told Complex, the Orion Sun-sampling banger was “inspired by late nights at strip clubs in Miami. I was never a fan of strip clubs, but after getting to know a few dancers, I really wanted to create something they could either get ready to, or dance to.” That muse lingers across The Vices.

“Why party at the strip club? Had every reason / She ain't angelic, I'm posted up with my demons, huh / My bands yellin', ‘Just throw me,’ I can't keep 'em, huh / Her ass jumpin', I'm knowin' shawty too freaky, huh,” Tiller raps on “Make Life Easy.” He follows up the lust-filled track by hitting up the ATM on “200 Bands”: “Yeah, know you can do it with no hands / But at least let me give you advance / Spent two hundred bands like this.”

This is the bottle-poppin’, table-service side of Tiller’s psyche — all dollar bills and detachment. Much of the production conjures the strip club: that palace of pleasure and desire. Neon-lit synths swirl around hazy trap beats. Snares thump like bottles dunked in buckets of ice. But in between throwing bands and knocking back drinks are glimpses of Tiller’s vulnerability.

Among the tracks most deserving of a spot on your “getting ready” playlist is “On My Way.” Nostalgia lures as Tiller reminisces over a pensive sample of Chris Brown’s “Ain’t No Way (You Won’t Love Me)” — “You remember being 16, right / Believing in true love or what not.”

He then shatters the teenaged fantasy with grown-man regret: “Can’t believe I ruined that for you / I’m sorry.” On the chorus, his thoughts spiral: “I’m on the edge, hangin’ on barely, just don’t push me now / Hangin’ on threads, baby, just let me drop, don’t cut me down.” The Velous-produced track (known for work with Chris Brown and Kanye West) is Bryson at his most brilliant — hitmaking as second nature, but weaving in emotional complexity like a master.

Tiller’s humble beginnings are part of his legend now. He juggled jobs at Papa John’s and UPS before breaking through and famously turned down Drake’s OVO to sign with RCA. He recounts that journey — flexing the multi-platinum chip on his shoulder — on the album’s closer, “Finished”: “Whoever done said I’m finished / Wonder how you feel now / Fuck n**, I’m 10 years in it.” It’s a well-earned mic drop, especially with the 10-year anniversary of Trapsoul on the horizon.

Other highlights include “First Place,” “Cut Ties,” “More Than Money,” “Make Life Easy,” “No Sharing,” and the hit-in-waiting “Last Call.” But "Mini Kelly," with orchestral production that sparkles like an exquisite rosé, may be the true centerpiece.

The second half of the double album, Solace, is described by Tiller as “my own personal therapy session.” That tracks. Tiller’s moody, atmospheric soul often chills like his native Kentucky in the winter. If The Vices is the soundtrack for late nights and early mornings — all ego, lust, and escapism — then Solace might be the morning after: sobering up, scrolling through old texts, maybe even facing the silence.

But for now, we’ll drink to The Vices — a soundtrack for getting ready, for after last call, for when the the lights come up.

PRESSED PICKS

1. On My Way

2. First Place

3. Cut Ties ft. BossMan Dlow

4. Mini Kelly ft. Rick Ross

5. Last Call