Few contemporary R&B artists appreciate the bittersweet, liminal joy of a late-night drive quite like Karri. With last year’s introductory Late Night Slider Music and its newly released sequel, SLIDER II, the San Francisco native has skillfully cemented his niche: recreating the atmosphere of a midnight cruise while cautiously emerging from the woozy, often hermetic world of underground R&B. His rise has been endorsed by heavyweights like Drake and longtime friend Chubbs, who signed Karri to his PFL Records imprint. Initially, Karri largely stuck to his self-styled “Lo’ N Slo’” sound, a signature aesthetic that pairs lo-fi production murk with slurred, heavily woozy vocals. Now, on SLIDER II, he has notably sharpened his approach, injecting his familiar, narcotic vocal style with brighter, more deliberate production that carves out space for emotional color and genuine depth. It’s like he finally realized the destination is just as important as the drive itself.
Karri isn’t looking to reinvent the wheel with SLIDER II, but he successfully finds new ways to expand the emotional dimensions of his approach. The album begins with “Crashout,” a minute-long vent session that cuts deep over the somber, almost suicidal strums of a lone guitar. “That nine-to-five ain’t got you working/Just clock out cause you worked my last nerve,” he sings, his voice bare and unprocessed, as if it were ripped directly from a raw voice memo intended only for future use. This lending of a new, raw vulnerability immediately sets a more intimate tone for the record. The “Unconditional Interlude” pairs Karri with Pimmie, a growing interlude specialist and feature standout from $ome $exy $ongs 4 U, as a swooning, yet stern couple. Their voices weave between gentle affirmations and tense exchanges until a climactic, echoing repeat of the chorus finally breaks the tension. With Karri’s affirming echo of unconditional love, it stands out as the only moment on the entire record when things feel truly, definitively certain.
SLIDER II also marks a crucial development for Karri’s production palette, offering more vibrancy without completely steering away from his comfort zone. Produced by Noel Cadastre, “Not a Romantic” cruises effortlessly as Karri’s Auto-Tuned vocals pierce through an echoing, cold bassline with the chill of an ice pack to the neck. Echoing, organ-like synths swing in like a sudden gust of wind, adding a much-needed jolt of life into what would’ve otherwise been just another dose of dark sky soliloquy. But the mood isn’t always so melancholic or measured. “Go,” featuring Kehlani, throws the Bay Area bounce straight to the forefront by sampling E-40’s “Tell Me When to Go,” instantly making it the most fun and high-spirited, uninhibited song in Karri’s catalog.
With these noticeable tone shifts comes a palpable sense of optimism, a willingness to see beyond the headlights. Mack Keane’s shimmering, upbeat production on “Time Again” contrasts dramatically with Karri’s pleas to an unrequited love, and though the metaphors occasionally lean toward the cheesy (“Only one that told me nice guys finish last/And all these bright skies can turn to ash”), they successfully showcase a singer swept off his feet and genuinely head over heels. You get a real sense of where Karri’s mind wanders to when he’s on those nighttime drives—a future destination, rather than a painful past. Where Late Night Slider Music dwelled almost exclusively on pain and regret, SLIDER II is resolutely looking toward the future. Even though he still clearly thrives best under dark skies, Karri makes it a point to show us that there’s still vibrant, yearning life to be found under the stars.
About the Author
