When commodities get mentioned in rap lyrics, it’s usually along the lines of Thorstein Veblen’s conspicuous consumption. The expensive goods stand like an iceberg’s tip for the depths below. Pricey cars, jewelry, and liquor are visible indicators of an elite taste and the funds to back it up, but not so much in “Brand New.” On this track, the commodity’s notable quality isn’t cost, it’s novelty.

I don’t like used cars / I like brand new
I don’t like old shoes / I like brand new
Everything new / hat to the socks
Feeling like brand new / like they pulled me out the box

If you take this as a literal representation of Gucci’s desire (and there’s no overestimating the literal-mindedness of a man with an ice cream cone tattooed on his face), then “Brand New” is an incredibly anxious song. The poor rapper is an anti-Midas: everything he touches melts from gold into just another sensuous object. What he wants isn’t a status signifier in Veblen’s sense, but for all of his possessions to appear as ice-cold cash. Sports cars and socks are at opposite sides of almost all commodity spectra, but like the treasure hunter who finds “gold, diamonds, rubies, and emeralds,” Gucci is only really talking about one thing. Drawing closer and closer to the point of purchase, the clothing and cars (in theory) sneak up on their market price. “Brand new” is that indefinable moment when products are pulled out of circulation, when, like Schrödinger’s cat, a commodity is simultaneously both money and not. Gucci doesn’t want to wear an expensive shirt, he wants to wear actual money.