The Weekly Coos

Thanks to Ciara (a phrase I never saw myself saying today), I was exposed to NJ/NY Rapper Lady London. Appearing on her “Girls (Remix),” alongside Lola Brooke, Lady London made a presence for herself amongst the already non-creative girlbossery established from the original, and since I’ve sat back and gave my ears some wicked rapping by Lady London via recorded freestyles, loose music videos, and a show topping moment on Funk Flex. As I spun her debut album, S.O.U.L., I was reminded why her artistry captivated me the first time and the progression while trying to differentiate herself through technical elements like the cadence in her flows and the rhythmic proses in her writing, albeit lacking pure content versatility. Lady London’s debut establishes itself with a lens intended for us to view, particularly that of someone deep within zodiac readings and so forth—here, it’s a motif, using astrological signs to give a sense for character actions—it’s a creative start that follows through; unfortunately, it loses steam at times, as it doesn’t have the best production as it doesn’t give her new angles to work with, showcasing some limitations for the tempos she seems comfortable in.

S.O.U.L. starts strong before teetering like a standard rollercoaster that you wouldn’t ride more than twice, depending on the lines. Though that may sound harsh, it comes because when you get closer to the middle of the album, you may start to garner that feeling of disinterest— creatively enticing production, a lack of engaging content, specifically with a heavy focus on relationships, at times, sparked with zodiac signs as her source as to why, these are some reasons why it may hit you; however, if you trek through, there are enough gems to keep her on your radar. As someone who isn’t big on zodiac signs and their meanings—beyond the occasional self-deprecating Gemini joke—it wasn’t something that took me away from what was getting presented—and as many tracks hit, they become a slight afterthought that acts as a small bubble of information that gives the content some weight. It offers songs relative ease into delivering interpersonal connections that can still be listened to and enjoyed outside the fray—I say that considering having an AMEX card is now considered a flex, and I’m not there yet.

The weakest component of the album is the production, which is a disappointment since there is an imbalance between the great ones and the lesser ones that it can’t shroud some of its mundane moments, like drum patterns on “Safety Net” or “Kall Me,” which do little to keep it flowing with poignancy. Like them, “Act Like You Know” and “Way Too Much” don’t do anything creative, blending some R&B notes that feel typical by aiming for minimalistic acoustics to add some definition like in the former or subtle piano keys beneath the spacial atmosphere in the latter. Fortunately, not all tracks befall into some of these issues without such vigor, like “Stubborn,” which uses its instruments gracefully within its tonal darkness to reinvigorate how one should intake the lyrics. It goes the same for “Do Something,” a Hitmaka and Ayo from Ayo & Keyz, and Paul Cabbin (“I’m Not Racist” by Joyner Lucas), which adds much to the fray, reminding me of the decorative and fluid “D-R-U-N-K.” Unfortunately, the Jeremih feature doesn’t do more than cosmetically amplify the delivery of the chorus. Some of her features push that recognition forward, allowing the listener to hear Lady London go toe-to-toe with rappers like Dreezy and Omeretta the Great, but the singing isn’t always impressive.

Much of Lady London’s shine comes from her solo tracks, where she allows herself to be vulnerable, singing and rapping, tapping into emotions that are more nuanced than some of her collabs, which, for the most part, are people used to deliver choruses and add vocal definition that Lady London can’t always weave. It makes tracks like “Close,” “Indecisive,” and “D-R-U-N-K” have more than most of the featured tracks besides “No Time” and “Yea Yea,” and the verses of “Kall Me,” which bring a toned down and loose bravado to the content being spit—this goes especially for “No Time,” which takes the template of two people communicating to establish a conflicting relationship bolstered by the interconnectivity and dedication to making it so. It’s one of the crisper surprises off the album, considering one of the last times the template got used, Kendrick Lamar took a darker, more twisted turn, enacting a bomb that couldn’t linger on the boom (ala Hitchcock); Lady London and B-Boy Stance take a more delicate approach that gives nuance to the type of issues that derive within a relationship where the main fray is commitment. It’s one of the more definitive favorites of mine; I can say that confidently.

I thoroughly enjoyed this debut album by Lady London, even if some of its sentiments weren’t my cup of tea. I’m not big into zodiac signs and the lot, but she keeps marginally interesting through the means, weaving something fantastic wordplay and flows to round it out. I wish it was a little meatier in content; however, beggars can’t be choosers, and it’s something easy to circumvent and get around, like the production, which does enough to bolster London’s delivery just enough to entice you with future releases.