There seems to be a dearth of women in hip-hop these days. People point to the likes of Nicki Minaj and Cardi B, and I shake my head and point to “rap.” Hip-hop isn’t just rhymed lyrics over loop-based beats. It’s a culture, an awareness, and an attempt at pinning down a precise definition deserves its own exploration in a much lengthier separate piece. Old heads on the internet have latched onto the idea that hip-hop is dying if not already long dead, but I have a solid piece of evidence to the contrary. Laila’s Wisdom, the album released by Rapsody last September.
I slept on this album for a few months until December and everyone’s “Best Of 2017” lists started circulating. While mentally assembling my own list, I revisited releases I had tucked away to devote time to later. With production by The Soul Council and a star-studded list of guest vocalists, Rapsody was at the top of my list. My knowledge of Rapsody was limited to her being the only female guest on Kendrick’s To Pimp A Butterfly and one of my favorite guests on Anderson Paak’s Malibu. I put on Laila’s Wisdom with no preamble and was floored.
The album opens with splashes of piano and the full-force gospel crooning of Aretha Franklin. Nottz’s chop of “Young, Gifted, and Black” takes your mind back to the halcyon era of soul samples in hip-hop and erects a pulpit for Rapsody to lay down some truth. She proceeds to do just that over the album’s fourteen tracks. “Laila’s Wisdom” is the perfect title for a track that thematically calls to mind Bill Withers’ “Grandma’s Hands” and reminisces on the truth handed down by those who came before. Hip-hop often calls back to its own history as a means to legitimize new contributions to the culture and as a way to connect the present in conversation with the past (and probably as a symptom of being stylistically built around the sample). Rapsody’s lyrical versatility and sassy delivery leave no doubt – the silsila is intact.
“Power” follows up the opening track with Laila’s Wisdom’s first guest vocalist. When selling friends on this album I inevitably invoked the more widely known guest artists on it – Kendrick, Anderson Paak, Black Thought, Busta Rhymes – but to push Laila’s Wisdom on the strength of its guest verses ellipts Rapsody’s excellence as an emcee. She shines throughout the album, lit up by her unapologetic talent. Laila’s Wisdom is definitely a family affair, with numerous collaborators, Jamla’s in-house production supergroup The Soul Council, and the name of the record itself coming from Rapsody’s grandmother, but Rapsody’s unique flavor on each track is why her name graces the cover of the album like a signature.
“Chrome” takes over with a stumbling beat that somehow drips into still being on time. It’s head-noddingly hypnotic and a welcome earworm. “Pay Up” concludes the a-side and is one of my favorite tracks on the album. If “Bills Bills Bills” was the follow up to “No Scrubs,” “Pay Up” picks up the mantle of hip-hop anthems sung by a woman who knows her worth. Rapsody flips the script by relegating the jobless mooch of a man to the second verse and opens instead with its converse, a man chasing an uninterested woman with material gifts that are never quite enough to satisfy her hunger for the finer things.
“Sassy” has garnered the most critical attention and caught a Grammy nomination for Best Rap Song. Rapsody takes Eric G’s funky punchy bassline layered with squealing synths and builds a catchy song around Maya Angelou’s famous question “Does my sassiness upset you?” Rapsody seems to answer through her verses that if you’re bothered by the sass your ass is grass. While “Sassy” got the most love from critics, I think the strength of the album lies elsewhere. “Nobody” is my favorite track on Laila’s Wisdom and features Anderson Paak and Amber Navran delicately passing the hook back and forth. Black Thought delivers his usual excellence on a guest verse. Navran’s ethereal voice on the refrain and the pensive low end create an atmosphere both melancholy and reassuring, a perfect match to the lyrical content. The second half of the song features Rapsody’s side of a phone conversation that’s like a social media era update to Esther Williams’ “Last Night,” complete with phone rings used as percussion.
With BJ the Chicago Kid on the chorus, a moody bass line, chunky palm muted guitar and occasional organ embellishments “Black & Ugly” feels like Rapsody picking up the torch lit by Donny Hathaway. Rapsody repudiates the nay-sayers who have come around now that her skill as a lyricist is undeniable. “Black and ugly as ever, still nobody fine as me.” This is real hip-hop, ladies and gentlemen.
“You Should Know” was the first single released and features 9th Wonder chopping my favorite Goodie Mob song. After two verses of Rapsody’s unrelenting rhymes the beat changes and Busta Rhymes takes to the mic to “get on [his] Barry White shit real quick” and deliver a love letter. A number of songs on Laila’s Wisdom feature a major change in the beat, as though The Soul Council had too many good jams to leave any out. It doesn’t feel hectic or distracting, however, but rather helps to develop the narrative arc of each song. It’s particularly effective with Busta’s verse on “You Should Know” as his love-centric verse primes your ear for the trilogy of songs that follow. “A Rollercoaster Jam Called Love” muses on the up and down nature of even the strongest relationships. “U Used 2 Love Me” ruminates on the failure of that love and the end of all things. “Knock On My Door” sees the return of hope with fantasies about the guy next door. The smooth thudding bass and piano coupled with the spoken bits between verses add Rapsody to the pantheon of R&B goddess like Erykah Badu, Jill Scott, and Alicia Keys, but with the strong hip-hop vibe that anchored Lauryn Hill’s Miseducation. Each of the songs on Laila’s Wisdom demonstrate Rapsody’s strength and her vulnerability, her proverbial “realness” as an emcee, and these three songs are a beautiful example of just that.
The hypnotic guitar riff and gently thundering bass of “OooWee” usher in Anderson Paak’s second feature on the album. A song about dreaming, the early days of success, and the reality of staying grounded. Laila’s Wisdom closes out with “Jesus Coming” as Rapsody relates a tragic story that’s all too real with the haunting refrain “it’s time to go” chasing the verses to the album’s conclusion.
Laila’s Wisdom was nominated for Best Rap Album, making Rapsody the fifth woman to have been nominated in the 23 years that the Grammys have included the category. Even though Rapsody didn’t win, her nomination put Laila’s Wisdom in the spotlight on the same shelf as Kendrick’s DAMN and Jay-Z’s 4:44. The Recording Academy has never had their finger on the pulse of hip-hop so it’s unsurprising that Rapsody didn’t win, but her nomination shows she’s finally starting to get the attention she deserves. Regardless of any award, Laila’s Wisdom was the best contribution to hip-hop in 2017. More than just an excellent record, it’s a contribution to the culture at a time when hip-hop seems to be increasingly devolving into rap, and female emcees have practically no representation on the radio. Laila’s Wisdom is the complete package – beats alternatingly funky and smooth, real lyrical content expressed through clever rhymes delivered with plenty of sass and playfulness. Rapsody belongs in the upper echelon of hip-hop emcees as she can rap with the best of them, not just in what she says but how she says it. She’s lyrically versatile across the entire album, while nonchalantly dropping some of the cleverest bars I’ve heard this decade. Laila’s Wisdom is classic hip-hop from start to finish while bringing Rapsody’s own fresh flavor to the genre. Rapsody says it best herself on “You Should Know” – “influenced by many but [she’s] a whole new star. There’s levels to this but [she’s] a whole new floor.”
You can buy Laila’s Wisdom on vinyl or CD here, or better yet ask your favorite local record shop to order it for you.
Easton Connell 
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