I still remember when Lil Uzi Vert first dropped Eternal Atake. It was the week before COVID–19 lockdowns, and I was a freshman in high school walking to my world history class when suddenly, everybody went rabid. The outer–space, alien–themed album had been delayed, hyped up, and mourned over for nearly two years before it was finally released with zero warning. As a student in the Philadelphia school district, a part of Uzi’s hometown, it’s safe to say that it was all anyone could talk about or listen to that day. 

Just one week later, Uzi blessed our ears with Eternal Atake (Deluxe) – LUV vs. The World 2, a banger sequel album. Uzi had made amazing follow–ups to albums before, such as Luv is Rage 2, an album widely considered to be his greatest work. So when Eternal Atake 2 was announced, everyone was anticipating yet another banger follow–up project. Boy, were we so wrong.

Where do I even begin? Eternal Atake 2 is lazy, uninspired, and disconnected from its predecessor. The only songs on the album that are even remotely listenable are “Light Year (Practice)” and “Chill Bae.” Both of these tracks sound like they belong on the original Eternal Atake; “Light Year (Practice)” sounds similar to hype tracks like “Lo Mein,” while “Chill Bae” is reminiscent of more serene, emotional tracks like “I’m Sorry.” 

Everything else on the project is shockingly mid, with painfully basic production and lyrics that repeat themselves to the point of restless boredom. The only time this method of songwriting worked was on “She Stank,” albeit for all the wrong reasons. The song is—perhaps unintentionally—hilarious because of its weird chorus, featuring lyrics like “Yeah, I ain’t fuck his bitch, uh / ‘cause she stank.” It’s truly a masterpiece in writing because you’re right, Lil Uzi—this album really does stank. The repetitive songwriting would be fine if they talked about the same subjects in different, creative ways—but they don’t. Nothing is subtle—the most creative their lyrics get is with reused similes and metaphors like “as fast as a cheetah.”



The other way this album fails is in losing touch with the unique aesthetic of the original Eternal Atake. The original project featured conceptual interludes that told a fascinating story about Uzi getting abducted by aliens. The first six tracks represent Uzi’s persona Baby Pluto, showing a more aggressive, hype side. Tracks 7 through 12 show off his emotional persona, Renji. The final six tracks are purely about Lil Uzi and showcasing his older sound, finishing the album with “P2,” a sequel to his biggest hit “XO Tour Llif3.” The original Eternal Atake actually has direction, with clever lyrics and amazing tracks. Eternal Atake 2, however, has none of these qualities. There are a few mentions of space or UFOs, but it otherwise has zero thematic similarities to the original. It’s strange that they would try to associate this sorry excuse for an album with the masterpiece that was Eternal Atake.

Why have sequels to albums to begin with? Sometimes, it works out for the best; take Luv Is Rage 2, the fantastic sequel to Uzi’s original mixtape. The record features fun, whimsical lyrics such as “and I got a colorful aura like I got neon guts,” alongside Uzi’s well–known emo personality—to this day, “but I like that girl too much, I wish I never met her” hits crazily for hopeless romantics everywhere. 

Many artists have produced sequel projects that work and are considered very successful, such as Kid Cudi’s Man On The Moon series. These albums work beautifully because each one has similar production styles while also telling very different conceptual stories. Let’s not forget that each album has some of his best songs on it, either: “Day ’N’ Nite (nightmare)” on the first, “Mr. Rager” on the second, and “Tequila Shots” off the third. All three records provide introspective looks at Cudi’s life, while also offering something stylistically new.

Cudi put a lot of thought, work, and time into his trilogy. Uzi, however, churned out a lazy, unimaginative project and labeled it as a sequel to Eternal Atake. The album is an oxymoron: Nothing new is happening, yet nothing memorable carries over from Uzi’s original project. It tarnishes the name of the original Eternal Atake—lumping such a great record in with this dumpster fire of an “album” drops the quality of both of them by association.

The trick to making a memorable sequel album is to be ambitious and try something new while maintaining parallels between the two projects in lyrics and production. Uzi, however, did none of these things. With their basic, repetitive lyricism and forgettable beats, Uzi let a promising project crash and burn.