Last year, the Detroit rapper Dej Loaf came to national attention with “Try Me”, an icy song dedicated to keeping one's personal circle small. The sentiment isn't too dissimilar from plenty of “us against the world” street rap songs, but Dej’s sweet hook and relatively unknown status gave the song an extra push. She arrived aloof, an emotion that gains currency as social networks proliferate and push themselves into every corner of our lives. People can buy followers, beef between superstars can start over tweets, and it is harder and harder to opt out of any of it. Dej’s latest EP may indulge in this world—see the hashtag inclusion in the EP's title #AndSeeThatsTheThing—but her default remains disinterest.
On the EP’s opening track “Desire,” Dej says “I’d rather feel on myself than let you feel on my ass,” and the rest of the EP is just as self-contained and confident. The Big Sean-assisted “Back Up,” one of the most upbeat tracks in Dej’s catalog, focuses on keeping the distance with someone after just one night together. Big Sean, someone with a very public and on the record relationship history, struggles to keep up with Dej’s cold-hearted dismissals (“If I fuck and make you come, you gotta promise not to stress me,” she insists). But she never shuts herself off so much to miss when real attraction might be coming her way. “Butterflies” refers to the little creatures that flutter in nervous stomachs, and it captures the cheeks-blushing sweetness that is the other side of Dej. On “Hey There,” Dej partners with Future—more recently a heel on Dirty Sprite 2—who rediscovers his softer side that won over fans a few years ago with “Turn on the Lights”.
Dej Loaf’s confidence extends to her production. She knows the particular sound that works for her mix of rap and R&B. The EP’s production stays laidback, so Dej can smoothly jump between singing and rapping without leaning too heavily towards one style. “Back Up” is the exception, a crisp straight-ahead rap song that forgoes genre blurring. Though Dej’s talent is walking both sides of that divide, she’s a strong enough singer and rapper that it’s great hearing her not stuck on instrumentals that straddle the genre fence.
The performative nature of muting people from one’s life isn't seeking true isolation, but being selective about who is allowed into one’s world. Whether it is a passerby on the street, dudes creeping into DMs, or the comment section of Instagram, there are always so many voices shouting. The response of Dej’s music to pull inward feels appropriate, to only open up when most tender. #AndSeeThatsTheThing might sound so sad today, but Dej appears comfortably dour.
