Out the Bottle

Kamaiyah

By Natalie Silver

Once upon a time, not so long ago, I may or may not have tried to make it pretty damn obvious that I thought this rapper named Lizzo was the baddest, most under-appreciated artist out there. It’s possible that I tried to, I don’t know, let this be known before she inevitably blew up. And then, lo and behold, she releases “Juice,” plays Coachella, and boom—all of a sudden everyone and their mother is 100% that bitch. 

So not to be an actual bitch here, but when I give this type of love to more underrated or low-key artists and unapologetically urge the rest of you to pay attention, it is because they deserve it. It is because they are stars. It’s because one of these days they will blow up. So you might want to listen closely, because I know what I like, and what I like is good, and you will not see me wavering on this one: 

Kamaiyah fucking slaps—in music and in brand. And it might be a good idea for you to heed my humble advice and get behind the movement if you’re not already.

Don’t get me wrong: she’s certainly not a nobody rapper. The Oakland-born, Sacramento-raised artist has been featured in Complex and Rolling stone, ranked highly by Pitchfork and NPR, and even opened on YG’s “Fuck Donald Trump” tour. She just doesn’t get the attention and love that she deserves relative to her undeniable talent and stellar output. 

“Out the Bottle” in particular, is one of my favorites because it is so good without trying too hard. I love the music video, in which she channels Joplin energy with the boys in the back hyping her chorus with their “whoop di whoops.” Like Janice, in this dynamic she is Big Brother and the guys are Holding Company. 

Kamaiyah’s style is upbeat but slow enough to sing along to. Stripped down, her music reveals a complicated and brilliant conduction of the digital audio workstation, yet her songs always come off sounding simple and effortless. Her verses are catchy and her voice itself has a beautiful tone.

She doesn’t rely on theatrics for exposure or sex—or specifically, her own sexuality—for lyrical content, which, again, is an under-appreciated element of her work. She raps about real life. She is real life. She’s believable. And it’s our job to believe in her. 

If you get behind her now you can proudly boast your early loyalty with me in the future. But more importantly, you’ll play a critical role in her inevitable rise. 

Kamaiyah is a star. Her explosion is only a matter of time. 

Don’t say I didn’t warn you. 

September 13, 2019