Thanks to Whole Lotta Red’s generational impact, nostalgia for the outliers in Gucci Mane and Young Thug’s catalogs, and the enduring influence of Chief Keef, a new wave of rowdy and absurd Atlanta underground rap has emerged. There are Lazer Dim 700’s blown-out, stream-of-consciousness spectacles, which are dingy in the best way; 2Sdxrt3all’s screamed ad-libs, which sound like the devil on his shoulder come to life; Bear1boss’ overloaded AutoTune melodies; and L5’s psychological interpretation of drill, to name a few. Not all of it is that interesting—for instance, Baby Kia’s new age horrorcore is tryhard edgy—but what all the music has in common is that there is no restraint in sight. The same goes for Queen of the Land, a raw new mixtape by Glorygirl2950.
There are a few facts to know about Glorygirl2950. For one, she really likes Keef—her name is a callback to his imprint Glory Boyz Entertainment. She is 5 foot 5 (she points this out a lot), hates malls (fair), and doesn’t use parking lots (her car is too fast to abide by any speed limits, of course). This isn’t the most personal music; being as wild and cool as possible is the only clear goal. That would be more vapid than it is—somewhat like Ken Carson’s X, which basically had the same mission—if Queen of the Land wasn’t actually wild and cool. This mixtape is full of so much shrill-voiced wailing, gunshot sound effects, unexpected, acrobatic flows, and seemingly improvised vocal warbles and gibberish that it can be overwhelming. In a way, it recalls the foundational yet flawed Thug tape I Came From Nothing 3, where he engineered a style so wacko that you weren’t even sure how seriously to take it.
However, you should take Queen of the Land seriously. Like ICFN3, this is fun yet messy ATL rap. Over a collection of beats that pull from plugg and vintage trap music, Glorygirl constantly stretches melodies to their breaking point and veers off course just because she can. She delivers off-the-cuff bars like “A bitch get popped in her BBL butt” on “Slang for Me,” her flow so slurred it feels as if she’d downed a six-pack before hitting the booth. The background ad-libs sound like the squeaks of a mouse stuck on a trap, but then her delivery accelerates out of nowhere. It’s both extremely erratic and extremely replayable. So is “WNBA,” in which she’s popping and fluttering her lips for the first 25 seconds; fast forward a little and suddenly she’s onto an Adam and Eve diatribe that would make RXK Nephew proud. She makes choices randomly and recklessly, like on “2950,” the ragiest of the tracks, where it sounds like she’s rapping with a wad of gum in her mouth. Or take “Molly X,” where, in a cracked screech, she brags about all the cows she owns. Obviously bullshit, but good bullshit.
Queen of the Land’s pitfalls and strengths are mostly a result of the same issue: There is no toning Glorygirl down. Sometimes that makes for songs that are straight-up abrasive and annoying. Think of the ear-splitting shoutfest “Glory Freestyle,” or consider “Fireball,” where she can hardly get through a line without mimicking the sound of a chirping bird. It gets unbearable fast. A label might have given her the advice to chill out a bit, though that’s the kind of note that may have sanded down the thrills, too. What’s made Atlanta a longtime creative hub for independent, underground rappers is that the city’s environment often pushes artists to go big with their most rash ideas, even if they wind up faceplanting half of the time. One thing’s for sure: Queen of the Land couldn’t have come from anywhere else.
