Blake Snow

content advisor, recognized journalist, bodacious writer-for-hire

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In defense of Post Malone, a self-destructive and “culture vulture” musician from Texas

Courtesy Post Malone

I like Post Malone. A lot. Even though I can’t relate.

He’s a young twenty-something rapper with face tattoos that openly indulges in substance abuse and destructive relationships.

I, on the other hand, am a middle-age, clean-cut, ink-free family man who wants to live to 100 over burning the candle on both ends.

I rarely understand his lyrics or slang. I only stream clean versions of his songs to enjoy with my kids. And I cringe when he’s criticized for being a “culture vulture” (as if there were someone he should have asked permission from before rapping about something).

Nevertheless, I like him. I openly root for him. His genre-bending music is some of the freshest I’ve heard in years—a testament to the power of new blood.

While I certainly disagree with many of his lifestyle choices, I adore his music, which is getting better with age. These are my favorite songs: