For this first time since she introduced herself on “How Does It Feel,” Kamaiyah is truly frustrated. “Yeah I fucked up this summer/I didn’t put out one damn song, but y’all hoes still ain’t did nothing/I smell my revenge coming,” she raps on “Slide (Bet),” off her new mixtape Before I Wake. Coolness and calmness have been the Oakland emcee’s calling cards, but there’s clearly a lot weighing on her mind lately. Her debut album on Interscope has been held up by sample clearance issues, causing the healthy buzz built by her breezy 2016 mixtape, A Good Night in the Ghetto, to taper off a bit. Before I Wake is the first of two mixtapes that will precede the album as an attempt to regain some momentum. The fame she’s accumulated is wearing on her, and there’s a slight strain in her voice. But despite these tensions, she’s still making things look easy.
A Good Night in the Ghetto was largely celebratory, conveying the fleeting highs of youth and West Coast nightlife as escapism. Sure, there were mentions of absentee parents, untrustworthy jump-offs, lost friends, and city violence, but those things mostly existed on the periphery, distant thoughts tucked in the back of her mind. Before I Wake is less relaxed and laidback, playing out like a reassertion of control—over her music career, her spot in the rap hierarchy, her mental health and wellness, and hell, even her lovers. She’s snappier here, more keen to defend her territory. “Which one of ya’ll gonna stop me? ‘Cause ain’t nobody standing in my way,” she sings on “The Wave,” hinting at her conquest. “Which one of y’all gon’ top me? ‘Cause ain’t nobody fucking with the wave.” When she calls herself “the coldest bitch alive,” she’s putting suitors on notice: “You can bring the world to me/It don’t matter what you provide/Cause the playa in me it ain’t gon’ never be satisfied.”
Satisfaction is something Kamaiyah has been seeking from the beginning, since she openly wondered how it felt to just live. That pursuit has made her weary. For much of Before I Wake, Kamaiyah takes on a sleepy, singsong delivery, less animated than the unflappable half-croon she rapped through on her sunnier A Good Night in the Ghetto cuts. These performances are somewhat less dynamic, but she still provides the sort of candied melodies that become earworms, sinking comfortably into glossy synth beds.
Kamaiyah has been compared to Missy Elliott, as an inventive rap artist with a clear aesthetic vision who also rocks colorful jumpsuits, which is exemplified by the tasteful “Fashion,” a song that feels retro and chic all at once. But she isn’t beholden to any one style or influence, and on Before I Wake, she blends her reference points into something distinctly hers for a project that is cohesive, sleek, lustrous, and super funky. She borrows the mack raps of Oakland legend Too $hort, plush R&B arrangements (TLC, Keith Sweat, S.O.S. Band), and new jack swing rhythms. Her distillation of the ’80s and ’90s never feels like cloning, or worse, nostalgia chasing. Instead, she’s emerged as something completely original—Not Missy 2.0 or TLC redux, but Kamaiyah 1.0, a visionary who respects and reflects her history.
Given the pending sample clearance delays for Don’t Ever Get It Twisted, it’s somewhat ironic that some of samples on Before I Wake seem almost tangentially related to the songs they form. “Playa in Me,” using a stripped down sample of Lil Jon’s “Play No Games,” flips the original’s script. Tha Dogg Pound’s “Some Bomb Azz (Pussy)” gets a rebrand as “Dope Bitch,” as if the woman from the former rejects that song’s premise and tells her story instead. “Leave Em,” a friendly reminder to leave that terrible boyfriend, samples TLC’s “Creep,” a song about female infidelity and sexual freedom. The samples don’t just complement each other; they tell their own stories. Kamaiyah is never overwhelmed by the burden of potentially mishandling any of them, and each moment feels like a restoration, refurbishing classics for a new generation, with new purpose.
If Kamaiyah’s style is about being approachable, about the very normal and mundane ways we distance ourselves from a violent and unfair world, Before I Wake is the first of her releases that keeps listeners at arm’s length. She’s cautious of others, analyzing their motives, and worried about her own sanity on “Me Against Myself,” rapping about how she puts on a “Hennessy smile to hide my tears.” The bassline dribbles beneath her as she lays out her distresses: “You ain’t felt pain like I have felt pain/People in my life just for self-gain/I’m going through the motions/But myself changed.” When she asks, “Who gon’ really love me and be there for me?” on “Therapy,” she’s channeling years of setbacks and letdowns. She’s learning that success doesn’t erase depression. But there’s never the slightest sense that she’ll let these lapses defeat her, or that she won’t overcome them. She’s still here to win. Doubts creep in on Before I Wake, but she just knows she’s due for another good night.
