Noname is a Chicago-born poet and R&B-influenced rapper, appearing frequently alongside other popular Chicago-based rappers such as Chance the Rapper and Saba. She features prominently in both Saba's “Bucket List Project” (2016) and Chance the Rapper's “Coloring Book" (2016). Noname also sports a critically-acclaimed debut album of her own entitled "Telefone" (2016). Now, Noname's newest album "Room 25" (2018), released Sept. 14 on Spotify, Apple Music and SoundCloud, maintains her snazzy, jazzy hop-skip vibes. She speaks to looming race issues, to her imperfect self and to happiness. Noname comes out hard — the first song "Self" makes it clear that she deserves attention. Clearly, she is a poet. Clearly, she is also a rapper. By the second song "Blaxploitation," the album is laid out.
"Room 25" is a dancing disc; you feel it. Her voice is soft, melodious and powerful — one of those slow head-nodders. You need to move to it — and then she lets go of something smarting and raw. On "Prayer Song," featuring Adam Ness, Noname raps, “A free man in the land of the noose." On "Regal," among spacey beats, she delivers “I’m warmer in the casket, basket atop my head. Africa’s never dead, Africa’s always dying."
Mid-song, "Room 25" will cause one to think, “Whoa! I’m not sure if I should keep on dancing, or just sit very, very still and try to absorb all these ideas that emerge and unfold like vivid flowers from the song." In this quality, Noname demonstrates a real faculty with music. She coheres articulate and genuine thoughts with a foundation of easy rhythm and creates something beautiful that transcends the sum of its parts.
After the initial jump, "Room 25" slows, introducing neo-soul and jazz elements reminiscent of Erykah Badu and Thundercat. It's almost hymnal in pace — think the latter half of "Coloring Book" (2016). The antepenultimate song "Part of Me" opens akin to “Disciples,” from Tame Impala’s "Currents" (2015). The precise sampling echoes Wu-Tang Clan's "Enter the Wu-Tang" (1993), MF Doom's "Operation: Doomsday" (1999) and also Kendrick Lamar's "To Pimp a Butterfly" (2015). At once, the combination of stylistic variety and consistent cohesion showcases the lofty quality of production. In terms of credits, "Room 25" shows off Adam Ness, Saba, Smino, Pheolix, Ravyn Lenae, Yaw and Benjamin Earl Turner. By the conclusion track "No Name," featuring Yaw and Adam Ness, the sound is fully soulful, whimsical R&B, with lyrics like, “I’m just writing my darkest secrets ... saying vegan food is delicious, like wait and just hear me out.”
Like a day-old banana-nut muffin at the Rez, Noname’s album is a dense, fluffy delight. Although the crusty crown of the muffin at first discourages the novice, these initially less accessible bits are certainly the most explosively flavorful, and the most satisfying, into which one might chomp and taste rigorously. Just as the sweet doughiness cloys on your tongue with undertones of a pummeled yellow-guy, so the album croons and slides through the noggin like the warmth of a holiday fire. And then, a walnut. The kind of crunchy, textured surprise into which your mind can dig (with those shiny cerebral grinders) and explore a radically different perspective. Each little bit of pastry which crumbles off, out of your intellectual grasp, must be attended to with care lest you shirk a full appreciation of the artist’s experience. Those muffin seeds that fall to the floor, those farthest ones, are the most rewarding. As the muffin is consumed, don’t be afraid to slow down, stop licking your fingers and savor Noname's resounding lyrics, “I pray my Momma don’t forget about me, I pray my Daddy don’t forget about me.”
Noname comes back with crunchy, textured raps on 'Room 25'
Summary
With layers of sound and powerful messages, Noname's "Room 25" speaks to looming race issues, Noname's imperfect self and happiness.
4 Stars