Is There a Difference Between Mixtape Future and Album Future?

The last time we heard from Future was when he and Metro Boomin teamed up for We Don’t Trust You and We Still Don’t Trust You back in March and April, respectively.

That was five months ago, which is not a long stretch for a regular artist. But if you’re Future—one of the most prolific rap artists of the 21st century—that’s practically a year. So it’s no surprise that fans woke up to a new Future album this morning, titled Mixtape Pluto. Notice we said "album": even though the title includes "mixtape," in honor of Future's reputation as one of the greatest mixtape rappers ever, this is very much an album (even as the distinction has gotten blurry ).

There’s a rollout, a new single with a glossy video for the standout track “Too Fast,” and all of this new merch you could buy. But the music is different; the album features Future taking a more barebones approach—going for a gutter sound that isn’t as stylistically flashy as his albums with Metro Boomin. There are also no collaborations on the album and the production is mostly handled by longtime collaborators Southside and Wheezy. Oh, and Future is rapping very aggressively—in form and subject matter—with a reckless abandon that makes it clear he’s not chasing a pop hit.

This begs the question: is there a real difference between mixtape Future and album Future? Like if this album—which is solid but a step down from the Metro collaborations—was called Album Pluto how does it sound? We try to grapple with that question and more.

Read our takeaways for Future’s latest album Mixtape Pluto below.

Mixtape Pluto’s callbacks

Future has one of the most storied mixtape catalogs of all time. No one knows this better than Future himself, who is not shy about his accomplishments. With an album like Mixtape Pluto, Future fully embraces his own mythology and legacy. (It’s better than Future making an album called Scumbag Future and honoring another facet of his mythology.)

In many respects, Future pays tribute to his underground roots in ways that are both obvious—his merch references classic mixtapes from the past—and subtle. The album intro “Teflon Don” samples music from The Godfather, echoing his “Tony Montana,” gangster movie origins. Much of this album follows mixtape prototypes, almost to an exaggerated effect. A track like “Ski” is peak ruthless Future drug talk with lines like, “Smackin' this bitch off a Perc', I done hit her, she speakin' in tongues.” And the obvious tell is the fact that he went all in with Southside, who offers a less expansive, but more grizzled sound than Metro Boomin. (The best Future mixtapes have the 808 Mafia sound.)

So why take this approach? Is it possible that the Metro Boomin albums felt too pop? It’s a theory that makes some sense, in my opinion: the best way to follow up a blockbuster run is to pivot to something smaller, but more intense. —Dimas Sanfiorenzo

Is there a difference between Mixtape Future and Album Future?

In the past, mixtape Future has been an indomitable force. With projects like Monster, 56 Nights, Beast Mode, and even Purple Reign and EVOL, Future has favored shorter, tighter projects with a cohesive sound throughout. Generally, his mixtapes use this consistency to create a sound that exists from beginning to end. The hooks are of less importance than the emotions of his voice. You generally won’t find a song like “Mask Off” or “Use Me” on his tapes. Rather, he loads the collections up with street anthems and more personal, emotion-laden songs.

We get some of that on Mixtape Pluto, but it sounds a bit like it’s stuck between being a mixtape and album. He tries to conjure up hits, but they hit a bit hollow when he bares his soul like he does on “LOST MY DOG” (more on that later). In the past, there was a clear delineation between Future’s mixtape work and his major label album rollouts. Now, the lines are blurred. —Will Schube

Future helped spark the Kendrick and Drake beef…what now?

Not sure if you remember, but on We Don't Trust You, Kendrick Lamar appeared on a song called “Like That,” which featured a couple of rather inflammatory bars, culminating with “Motherfuck the big three, nigga, it's just big me.” That line launched 1,000 ships, and while Lamar proceeded to defend himself and handle his business in his beef with Drake, Future retreated to the shadows and stayed relatively neutral.

Now, with his first chance to take a new shot at Drake—or at least acknowledge that all of rap music has changed thanks to one of his songs—Future Hendrix has remained relatively silent. There are no explicit callouts, not even any reckonings with the wrath he helped stir. Is he ambivalent? Were these older songs he just felt like releasing? Regardless, it would have been interesting to hear Future spit about the beef from his own, very unique perspective.—Will Schube

What happened to the features?

Future spent ample time during the lead up to his delayed new mixtape working with frequent collaborators, link-ups that caused all sorts of rumors and got fan anticipation level up to 10. Just two weeks ago, Travis Scott took to X and wrote: "SOUTH OF FRANCE MIXTAPE PLUTO,” alongside a video of the two aboard a yacht.

“South of France” is on the new project, but the song is 1 minute and 45 seconds and doesn’t feature a verse from Travis. A photo of Future linking up with Pharrell also made the rounds, but Skateboard P doesn’t appear to be featured anywhere on the project. Future has always kept his mixtapes focused on him; many of his early highlights didn’t include any features either. But with rumors of collaborations making the rounds, it’s odd that none of them ended up on the final project. Perhaps clearing these collaborations is what led to the album being delayed in the first place. —Will Schube

The pros and cons of locking in with a small number of producers

 

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Despite Future incorporating a number of different producers on the project, each song includes production from two of his most frequent collaborators: Wheezy and Southside. The result is a sonic template in which Future feels consistently comfortable. There aren’t any stretches that challenge him to flow in unique ways or push his voice in different directions. That has its positives and negatives. He’s able to quickly identify the sonic energy of the project, finding a pocket and settling into it nicely. The album has a consistent feel, and Future is more than happy showcasing his rapping skills throughout—often unleashing bars instead of focusing on melodic composition. That being said, these artistic decisions give the project occasional stasis. The highs and lows are practically eliminated, and Future seems more than happy living in this pretty good world. —Will Schube

Future in mourning

The most emotionally charged moment on the album comes at the end with “Lost My Dog,” a song in which Future grieves for a friend who died from an overdose. While he never names the friend, it’s hard not to think of Rich Homie Quan, who tragically overdosed a couple of weeks ago.

The status of their relationship is a bit unclear, though they both came from East Atlanta and have collaborated in the past. And during Quan’s early career, he was often compared to Future, with some critics claiming he was stealing his sound. But even if it’s a coincidence, I do think there is something poignant about having this song on here, while the wider hip-hop community is still collectively mourning. The song also showcases Future’s descriptive writing and how talented he can be, rapping lines like “We share the same pain, so I should have known he wasn’t happy.” —Dimas Sanfiorenzo

Each Future tape has a defining anthem. Is there one here?

 

Epic

Going back in time, each Future project had one or two songs that stood out above the rest. Even on mixtapes chock full of hits, there were particular moments that became generational. On Monster, that was “Codeine Crazy.” 56 Nights had “March Madness,” Beast Mode boasted “Just Like Bruddas.” Purple Reign was defined by “Perkys Calling.” Here? There are a lot of good songs, but I’m not sure one stands out as an instant smash. “SURFING A TSUNAMI” is perhaps the most interesting, answering the question of what would happen if Future got really into trance music. “LOST MY DOG“ is clearly the most emotionally charged, but it’s more of a platform for Future to grieve than a fully realized song. It sounds like he’s improvising over the beat, reflecting on the friends he’s lost, often taking quick breaks to gather his thoughts and feelings. “MADE MY HOE FAINT” is another triumph, but at less than two minutes, it doesn’t pack a lasting punch. Perhaps there’s a slow-burning sensation to the project, but nothing immediately hits in the way his biggest mixtape classics do. —Will Schube