Released: March 17, 2015

Father is that one assimilated black friend who white kids keep around for aesthetic diversity purposes. His appeal is some Brooklyn shit that I can't imagine lasting beyond a debut album that gets widely praised/panned as "minimalist" and "understated" and "subversive," which are all solid reasons to instead invest in that dreadlocked goblin Chief Keef as rap's alternative, unrelatable future. I am rooting for Abra, however, just on the strength of this one song that had me doing the robot down the produce aisle of a Key Foods in East Harlem.