The Weekly Coos

When coming onto the music scene in 2021, it may have been easy for one to dismiss Lola Brooke due to the wave of New York Drill that began lacking creativity from flows to beats, yet, as always, there was promise—with that promise, they deliver something slightly profound due to the differences, which equates surprises, even when she turns to homogenization and simplicity based on content and adding low levels of ingenuity to the rhyme schemes. But I’ve always felt that through it, Lola Brooke stood out and gave fans from the region and beyond something to latch to from varying singles and now, her debut album, Dennis Daughter, which continues to bolster notions of her prowess and talent to deliver work that’s both memorable and poignant. Though it maneuvers around the introspection and money-sex-induced flexes, Lola Brooke offers a backstory to add dimensions to these successes; however, it doesn’t mean songs relative to, are all fantastic, but it gives them purpose within the tracklisting flow. As a fan of Dennis Daughter, Lola Brooke continues to show why she’s an artist to watch for the future.

Dennis Daughter is sort of like a “reintroduction” to Lola Brooke as through her career’s growth, we’ve gotten to know Lola Brooke, or rather fans have through her interviews on New York Hip-Hop Stations, freestyles and more, but as it was, one never got to know the actual Lola. That’s what Lola Brooke wants us to get as she delivers these introspective moments that allow us to see where her attitude and hustle come from and how the product she puts out today keeps those she cherished proud in heaven. As told through “Dear Dennis,” Lola Brooke starts the last act of the album with this touching ode to her father, whom she had a tumultuous relationship with, but understood the nuance of his mental health and addiction, which resulted in domestic violence. As she would put it, “I appreciate you for the ups and downs, that turned me to a honest bitch,” and that’s replicated through the internalized authenticity behind the delivery of her verses, like with “I Am Lola,” where Lola expresses brand recognition and professionalism taken in her career, while still having quirks grounded in reality, further playing on her blurred line of classism.

Lola Brooke tackles varying topics on her debut album, like poverty, discipline, death, riches and successes, sex, etc.; through it, she tries to keep it interesting, whether experimenting with types of production or creating these auspiciously captivating songs that hit with the bridges and choruses, like on “Don’t Get It Started,” “It’s Me Again,” and “Shelter Baby (Be That Bitch)” as examples, which showcase how powerful these aspects can be—knowing that sometimes some rappers don’t always come up with the most fluid choruses, opting for more straightforwardness—here, Lola’s vocal cadence adds more dimensions, like how “It’s Me Again,” where she changes from a bravado loop to hardened rap bars to show she here, as evident by the lines “Catchin’ homies where the zoo at, but you already knew that/Gator comin’ for her troubles, so please, don’t do that.” There is some emotion to them, and it’s that which allows some of the deeper tracks to have this more resounding presence amongst the surrounding content, like how perception becomes a reality in “God Bless All The Rappers,” which tackles the importance and status rap has in the artistic ecosphere, where one rapper’s death gets lamented for a day, an actor obtains one final run of In Memoriams.

There aren’t many features on the album, and alongside the weak verses of “Best Side,” most aren’t memorable or grand. “Don’t Get Me Started” is the one that stood out, mainly because of the synergy between the three artists. The way it blends from Nija’s more electro-hip-hop-influenced singing into Lola Brooke’s loop chorus, which feels influenced by a style of choruses Pop Smoke would create. It acts as this nuanced hype that isn’t delivered so heavy-handed and further feels accomplished by the performances of Lola Brooke and Coi Leray. Unfortunately, the featured verses from French Montana on “Pit Stop,” the choral performance of Bryson Tiller on “You,” and “Don’t Play With It [Remix],” where it feels like a nothing burger that sort of dilutes what could have been a fantastic closer with “God Bless All The Rappers,” which provides an emotional stamp to giving listeners something great to reflect on after all Lola Brooke has told you up to that point, whether emotionally resonant or flexing what she’s earned. Additionally, the production is topsy-turvey here, as it tries to incorporate varying styles to retain some creative detachment from the expected.

Lola Brooke flips between New York Drill and the sound emanating from Detroit, as it begins to flow from beginning to end, some blend and you’re almost stuck relying on Lola Brooke to bring it home, like when it switches from the Drill/Trap inspired “Pit Stop” to the Detroit influenced “It’s Me Again,” are smooth but after a while, you notice the beats are hard, but do little to become their own character amongst the rest. I appreciated this debut enough to say Lola Brooke is going places, and I’m excited to see where it leads. Does she fall into the trappings of homogenization; sometimes, but what’s important is that her flows and song construction reign powerfully as she makes a name for herself beyond just another rapper. Furthermore, it’s great to see these new emerging artists have an identity and deliver it effervescently, like Lady London’s debut last week; this is just another to continue keeping NYC on the map, even if it doesn’t always need it.