Mos Def’s daughter gets a TikTok hit — no, come back…
Julian Axelrod: “The self-produced bedroom pop nepo baby who went viral after being sampled on a 15-person Cash Cobain posse cut is good, actually” is an unbearable sentence, but that doesn’t mean it isn’t true. If “Espresso” is the beverage-based hook of the year, “I got the juice/Passion fruit and guava juice” is a close second.
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Tim de Reuse: Any song whose thesis is “I don’t give a shit” has to answer for itself; why did you write a whole song if you’re so over it, huh? Most fail at this. Laila attacks this particular slope by writing half a song. “Not My Problem” has the air of something chopped and screwed together in an afternoon; the one-measure loop of reverberating synth arpeggi, the stream-of-consciousness tropical fruit catalogue, the beat that consists of a single, ugly little kick drum thrown dry and uncompressed in the middle of the room. Success at the first hurdle: I believe wholeheartedly that you are over it. Second hurdle: would I ever listen to this faint gesture of a tune more than, like, twice?
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Ian Mathers: A commendable message and production that makes a virtue of menacing, nocturnal stasis. Whether this works for you might come down to how you feel about songs with lyrics that feel about 90% song title by weight.
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Taylor Alatorre: There’s a spare yet fully realized track on Gap Year! that has an “(interlude)” parenthetical despite being two seconds longer than this one. It is unclear why the reverse should not be true. Is a Cash Cobain remix really worth this much?
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Alfred Soto: Borrowing an amapiano tip-tap for its drum loop and a maximalist synth line from one of Billie Eilish’s psychodramas, “Not My Problem” puts its trust in its repetitions. The grain in Laila!’s voice suggests not defensiveness so much as affirmation. She’s serious about being taken seriously. Snatch her guava juice, and she’ll fuck you up.
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Katherine St. Asaph: Redolent equally of amapiano and Rihanna’s ANTI in its immersive, sink-into-able atmosphere. Nepo is good actually?
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John S. Quinn-Puerta: It drones on without droning, keeping you moving as you stand in the same place, trapping you in molasses at the very end, the constant refrain washing the stickiness off.
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Jel Bugle: Was a bit surprised by the number of streams, 33 million — I’ve heard similar things with 1K streams. Very computer music: it’s like the new lo-fi, people still in their bedrooms making songs, but not a 4-track to be seen. It has an amateurish charm, and as an expression of joy at making music it’s nice, but not gonna buy the CD.
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Jacob Sujin Kuppermann: Occupies a fun double-life — melodically and lyrically, this is basically a song you would sing to yourself as you do the dishes. In practice, Laila!’s charm as a vocalist and her tense, spare production creates a sort of halo around the song, taking it from petty, passing grievance to a grander statement of independence.
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Nortey Dowuona: Still can’t think of us as humans? Still can’t accept the multiplying sexual and gender identities in the world now? Can’t accept now that black on both sides is old enough to buy himself a ticket to fly to Accra now, and you are even older than that? Well….
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Kayla Beardslee: Totally lacking personality, ambition, or intent. Why is she singing about guava juice? Girl, check your ingredients before you start blending!
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