Hi, everyone. Boothony Hootano here, the internet's busiest music nerd. It's time for a review of this new Rapsody album, Please Don't Cry. Yep, latest LP from North Carolina lyricist extraordinaire Rapsody, who was on a pretty impressive run toward the end of the 2010s with the release of Laila's Wisdom, as well as the conceptual Eve, which was a track-for-tract tribute to numerous powerful influential women in music, in media, in politics, and beyond. Each of these projects, in their own right, were very well received, and it felt like at that time, momentum was really building behind Rapsody, even if she didn't make the most commercial or accessible or catchy type of hip hop. She was really developing a brand as a rapper's rapper, somebody who's bringing back pen game and concepts and storytelling.

However, it's taken a while to get this follow-up album, and when you actually listen to the content of it, it's not hard to see why. It seems Rapsody has been absolutely positively going through it. In the past, Rapsody has never been shy about commenting on things from her own unique perspective as a woman, especially in terms of what that means in the context of rap. But on this LP, she's diving even further into that, as well as her relationships with lovers, with family members, and even herself.

Right from the jump on this record, it's clear Rapsody is wrestling quite a bit with her art, with her craft, and with the way the world perceives it. On this trio of tracks here toward the beginning of the LP ("Marlanna, "Asteroids", "Look What You've Done"), Rapsody is really untangling all of these feelings around being underrated in comparison with artists who she's clearly a superior writer than. She reflects on how much of herself has been invested into rap music for all these years and questions who she is beyond that. She wonders what is actually reality in a world of fakeness. She also talks about often being rated as good for a female rapper or brought up as a wedge in rap conversations against women in the industry who might make music that's more pop-centric. They're doing bangers, they're rapping about sex and shaking ass, which she sees nothing inherently wrong with, that's just a different style, a different vibe that other artists do. She discusses on these tracks this temptation of going Lauryn Hill and disappearing off the map, just not doing any more music. And across the record, these feelings are clearly genuine and pretty intense.

Personally, I think she's a bit too in her head about all of it, but her points are valid because the fact that she's difficult to pigeonhole and she's gone creatively against the grain has put her in a place where the degradation of hip hop's mainstream and sexism are working against her potential commercial success. By that same token, though, Rapsody is not doing herself any favors by dropping a record that is so late to the game, that is so massive, so bloated, so difficult to untangle. And honestly, in my opinion, featuring production that is a step down from her past couple of records. We hear this on numerous tracks like "DND (It's Not Personal)" for example, which is short for "do not disturb", and instrumentally, this cuts just like a very basic piece of boilerplate G-Funk, but it's super spacy, very relaxed, very laid back as the entire track is really about wanting to be left alone to have a me day. I don't know, maybe the writing is a bit too on the nose and obvious.

Meanwhile, the track "Black Popstar" is an attempt at embodying a lot of the materialism, and bragging, and flexing that is often found in a lot of mainstream rap today, which toward the end of the song is used as a means of exploring these things as a way to numb pain and anxiety, which I guess I get putting it at the end makes the entire song make sense. But with that being said, everything up until that explanation just feels like a bad parody of another thing. As far as getting a message across in the music itself goes, I feel like "Stand Tall" does a much better job as Rapsody raps about coming clean and being truthful and trying to stay on top of her mental health over these very serene and watery guitars and pianos. But as much of an improvement as this track is, thematically, I feel like it could have been wrapped up into the next song, "That One Time", especially given how these two tracks connect a vital piece of her life story. In one moment, she's talking about how audiences presume her to not be a straight woman because of how she dresses and presents herself. But then on the next track, she writes an entire story about her whole first experience with experimenting with her sexuality, finding love where she least expected it, and having internal conflicts over that.

As much as some tracks add to a general bloat on this album that I think works against it, I do appreciate Rapsody putting in the extra effort to thematically or sonically make all of these songs connect across the track list, like on "3:AM" featuring Erykah Badu. It makes sense, given what proceeds it, that we would go into this very sensual and intense sex jam that is both parts physical and cerebral. But then there's a jarring transition into the song "Loose Rocks", which gets much darker reflecting on a baby that Rapsody didn't keep at one point in her life. She uses that topic as a jumping point to dive into mortality and youth and aging. Also reflecting on an older loved one who is suffering from dementia and how much that is just devastating her emotionally. I feel like this track is proof of just how immense and incredible of an artist Rapsody is when she just has amazing source material to work with and she's fully locked in.

The wide variety of songwriting angles continue deeper into the second half of the record. We have "Diary of a Mad Bitch", which is all about betrayal in the context of romance, which narratively I like and appreciate, but the hook on track from Bibi Bourelly is absolutely annoying, totally fried. One of at least a handful of examples of just the production and songwriting on this LP, despite its, again, just wealth of song concepts and topics, it's just not coming across beat-wise as well put together or as impressive. There's also "Never Enough", which is an attempt at a reggae flip that I don't think goes that well. It's a tad bit bland. Rapsody continues onto the next track, "He Shot Me" to draw another reggae connection, not only with some Bob Marley bars toward the very start of the track, but the song also interpolates "I Shot the Sheriff" and given the song's focus on gun violence and especially police violence makes total sense, but I feel like the lyrical framing of the hook in this context inadvertently reads as a bit weird. "I shot the sheriff / But I didn't shoot the deputy / He shot me." When obviously the point the song is trying to make is that people are being shot by police without having shot anyone.

Sadly, the record continues to be a mixed bag toward the final leg. Very anemic beats and subpar vocal mixing kneecap the full potential of "God's Light" as well as "Back in My Bag", which is an attempt at a banger, but isn't quite one. The song "Raw", featuring Lil Wayne, hits a lot harder. I think lyrically and delivery-wise, Rapsody is actually in her bag on that track, and the Weezy feature is pretty entertaining, too. Both of them are pretty effectively able to center a lot of what they're saying around rawness, literally and conceptually. We move from here to "Lonely Women", which is a hilarious self-love anthem performed in a way to where it seems like Rapsody is masturbating during parts of the song. It's actually pretty incredible how she's written this track, mapped it out, conceptualized it, and performed it in a way that comes across as pretty accurate.

"A Ballad for Homegirls", featuring Baby Tate, is another great highlight, too. Again, love the "love on the rocks," betrayal narratives, and storytelling going on here in Rapsody's bars. I love how the whole track is playing out like a conversation between her and Tate. Tate contrasts Rapsody's bars with a flow that's a lot more melodic, a lot more pop-centric. Their creative chemistry is undeniable. Production on the track is great, too. Rapsody then ties the narrative of this album up with some themes of self-acceptance, accepting her emotions as well, being okay with crying and accepting the natural reactions she's having to these emotionally overwhelming things and experiences. There's also, of course, themes around finding solace in your faith in God, which I would be more or less fine with, if not for the fact that the instrumental and the singing sounds like it's coming out of an ad for a local megachurch.

Overall with this album, I appreciate the lack of a filter, I appreciate the message, the realness, how frank and exposed Rhapsody is being on this project. But given the tone of the closer, I can't help but feel like a lot of this album is being motivated by some savior complex. It also does remind me of releases that we've seen over the years from Kendrick Lamar or Tierra Whack, where they also have expressed their own personal and emotional struggles as people existing in the music industry. So with Please Don't Cry, I think the substance and right source material is there, but the execution is not the best. I don't think this is Rapsody's best album by far, aesthetically or instrumentally. As far as the flow and track list goes, it really could have been pared down into a punchier record, too. I hope the resolution she's talking about toward the end of the record is actually real and that she's able to reach the piece necessary in order to have a healthier relationship with herself and her creative process because ultimately, I think the music industry needs a Rapsody.

I'm feeling a decent-to-strong six on this one.

Anthony Fantano. Rapsody. Forever.