Dave Blunts had one hell of a wild 2025 and made it out alive, too. That wasn’t a safe bet. Then as now, old boy is looking mighty grim, but we also live in a world where God took Big Pun and left us Fat Joe.
This is cruel to say, even as a straight assessment, but the health of Dave Blunts has overshadowed his music for some time now. Kanye West publicly offered to connect Blunts with his personal trainer (hopefully not Illuminati controller to the stars Harley Pasternak). Kanye also did a lot of other things in 2025, though, and “Unnecessary” is almost entirely about that.
It opens as a press conference skit and stays there for most of the next five minutes. To his credit, as both writer and director, this is neither AIPAC-approved airbrushed apology or an actual song. I got pranked and that’s fair game. This is a short movie about a dumb joke that’s way too long.
That said, it’s the oddly professional commitment of every actor involved that makes this watchable, or at least more so than Trapped In The Closet was. None of these people are professional actors. Neither is 97% of the cast behind every movie on Tubi, and every headshot stereotype here has a place in the American Bollywood to come. Props to Swarthy Israeli Man for going full Pacino at the end there, and both of Blunts’ bodyguards died bravely, too. RIP.
As an actual song, this is dogshit. I get that, in a sterile media monoculture with everything optimized to perfection, The Kids are leaning into dissonance, deafening effects oversaturation, and the distorted rush of a DMT hit disintegrating your shit. That’s cool, even thought I don’t bump all that hyperpop ragerap wizardcore bullshit much. What’s not cool is seeing that culture get appropriated by neurotypicals like Blunts.
Being a mere edgelord, in any capacity, is more costume than culture. These guys will always have to try harder to top themselves, because the actual jokes aren’t that funny. A lot of them aren’t even complete thoughts, just gestures of transgression, in-group nods & handshakes. In a real world full of cancer and murder, their tantrums amount to stuffed animals, thrown at a wall.
“Heil Hitler” was a cheap bid for attention, and he got it. All that noise conveniently obscures “Cousins,” perhaps the strangest thing that any artist alive did in 2025: ghostwriting a song about someone else’s childhood sexual trauma. I don’t kid myself. I know most of you would do the same, and for far less money, too.
Yet as a man, I pray that I would have the fortitude to refuse crossing that line. I pray that these kids get turned on to older music and better drugs and stop making songs that sound like Fruity Loops demo tracks from 1999. I pray that Dave Blunts stays alive and stays paid. Finally, Lord, I pray that “Unneccessary” will stand as the single saddest piece of shit I have to see this year. Zero Dickies.
