Honestly, walking into The Sun’s Tirade back in 2016 felt like walking into a house where the power had been out for two weeks. You knew someone was inside, you knew they were alive, but the air was heavy. It was thick with the smell of old cigarettes and the kind of quiet that only comes from a person who has spent too much time staring at the ceiling.
Isaiah Rashad, the Chattanooga kid who basically became the "vibe" ambassador for Top Dawg Entertainment (TDE), didn't just drop an album. He dropped a confession.
It’s been years since that September 2nd release, and yet the record feels more relevant now than it did when we were all bumping "Free Lunch" in our beat-up Sedans. People call it "vibey" or "chill," but if you actually listen to what Zay is saying, it’s anything but relaxed. It’s a record about a man who almost lost everything—his career, his sanity, and his spot on the most prestigious label in hip-hop—to Xanax and alcohol.
The Near-Collapse of a TDE Star
Before we get into the tracks, you've gotta understand the stakes. After the success of Cilvia Demo in 2014, Isaiah Rashad went dark. He didn't just take a break; he spiraled.
He’s been incredibly candid in interviews with places like Complex and XXL about the fact that Anthony "Top Dawg" Tiffith almost kicked him off the label. Multiple times. The guy was blacking out, missing sessions, and losing touch with reality. You hear this tension immediately in the opening skit "where u at?" where Dave Free is basically hounding him over the phone, asking where the music is.
It wasn't a marketing ploy. It was real life.
The album title itself, The Sun's Tirade, feels like a contradiction. The sun is supposed to be life-giving, right? But here, it’s a spotlight you can’t escape. It’s the heat that makes you sweat out the toxins while you’re trying to recover from a three-day bender. It’s the harsh light of a Monday morning when you haven't slept since Friday.
🔗 Read more: A Simple Favor Blake Lively: Why Emily Nelson Is Still the Ultimate Screen Mystery
Why the Production Still Slaps
One thing about Zay? He has the best ear for production in the game. Period.
He managed to bridge the gap between that dusty, soulful Outkast influence and the "modern" trap sound without it feeling forced. Look at a track like "A Lot." Produced by Mike WiLL Made-It, it should have been a generic club banger. Instead, Rashad’s gravelly, almost-whispered delivery turns it into something ghostly.
Then you have "4r Da Squaw."
That FrancisGotHeat beat is pure honey. It’s the sound of a Southern afternoon. But the lyrics? "If I can pay my bills, I'm good." It’s such a grounded, blue-collar sentiment that you rarely hear in a genre obsessed with "lambos" and "iced-out chains." He’s just trying to keep his head above water.
- Key Collaborations:
- Kendrick Lamar on "Wat’s Wrong" (arguably one of Kendrick’s best guest verses ever).
- SZA on "Stuck in the Mud," which is really two songs in one—the second half being a literal sonic representation of a drug-induced "muddy" state.
- Syd on "Silkk Da Shocka," a track so intimate it feels like you're eavesdropping on a private conversation.
The "Stuck in the Mud" Philosophy
If you want to understand the heart of the project, you have to sit with "Stuck in the Mud."
The first half is catchy, melodic, and smooth. But then the beat shifts. It becomes slow, plodding, and repetitive. "Pop a xanny, make your problems go away," he chants. It’s not a celebration of the drug. It’s an acknowledgment of a cycle.
💡 You might also like: The A Wrinkle in Time Cast: Why This Massive Star Power Didn't Save the Movie
He’s talking about how addiction isn't always a dramatic explosion; sometimes it's just a slow sink into the earth. It’s the "mud." It’s being unable to move even when you know you’re drowning.
People often overlook "Dressed Like Rappers" too. That line—"I can't admit I've been depressed, I hit a wall, ouch"—is probably the most honest thing anyone said in 2016 rap. He’s mocking the persona he’s supposed to uphold while admitting he’s falling apart.
Misconceptions About the "Vibe"
A lot of people dismiss Isaiah Rashad as "lo-fi hip hop to study to" material. That's a mistake.
While the sonic texture is definitely warm and hazy, the "Tirade" part of the title is there for a reason. There’s frustration here. There’s anger. There’s the "steel in my liver" and the "rope" around his neck.
He’s not just making background music. He’s documenting a survival story.
The record peaked at number 17 on the Billboard 200, which is respectable, but its "cult" status is what really defines it. In 2026, we’re seeing a lot of younger artists try to mimic this "slacker-rap" style, but they usually miss the emotional weight that Zay carries. You can’t fake the rasp in his voice on "Bday." That’s a voice that has seen some things.
📖 Related: Cuba Gooding Jr OJ: Why the Performance Everyone Hated Was Actually Genius
How to Appreciate the Record Today
If you’re revisiting the album or hearing it for the first time, don't just shuffle it. It’s a long ass day. That's how Zay described it.
It starts with the morning energy of "4r Da Squaw," hits the midday peak with "Park," and descends into the late-night, regret-filled hours of "Brenda" and "by george (outro)."
What we can learn from The Sun's Tirade:
- Honesty wins: You don't have to be a superhero. Sometimes admitting you "hit a wall" is the most relatable thing you can do.
- Soundscapes matter: Music isn't just about the lyrics; it's about the atmosphere. The "foggy" mixing on this album is intentional.
- Accountability is key: The inclusion of the skits with TDE leadership shows that Zay wasn't trying to hide his failures. He owned them.
If you’re feeling "stuck in the mud" yourself, the best thing you can do is listen to "Rope // rosegold" and realize that the same rope used to hang you can be the one you use to climb out of the hole.
Check out the "Free Lunch" music video again. Look at the way the camera moves. Notice the focus on the everyday people in the laundromat. It’s a reminder that even when the sun is shouting at you, there’s still beauty in the mundane.
Go listen to "Wat's Wrong" at full volume. Pay attention to how Rashad matches Kendrick’s energy without losing his own "chill" persona. It's a masterclass in collaboration.
The most important takeaway? Growth isn't linear. You might spiral, you might almost get fired, you might lose your way—but as long as you can still hear the music, you can find your way back.