Viral bubblegum rap star and self-proclaimed “King of the Teens,” Lil Yachty first introduced his motley crew of young stooges, the Sailing Team, on the Summer Songs 2 posse cut “All In.” It was a bubbly team theme that could double as a nursery rhyme. “All my brothers with me!” he shouted in the intro. That distinction somehow excluded R&B phenom Kodie Shane, the crew’s sole female voice, and unequivocally its most talented member. Her short, sweet verse stood out brightly from the half-cocked joke raps, ending with confidence: “I’m tired of talking, can you cut my check?” Shane established herself early on as more than a wave-rider—she’s a rising tide lifting all boats. If Perry is Yachty’s first mate, then Kodie is their anchor. Following the breakthrough, her new EP, Zero Gravity, makes a strong impression.
Born in Atlanta but raised in a Chicago suburb, Shane is a product of both nature and nurture. As a baby, she traveled on tour with her sister’s platinum-selling R&B group, Blaque, and later returned to Atlanta, where she recorded her first songs at 14. It was local guru Coach K—a manager of Gucci Mane and Young Jeezy, and mentor to Shane—who later introduced her to Yachty. For much of the past year, Shane has been toying with ideas and tinkering with form: Her 2060 EP, released in March, trended toward the productions of trap it-boys Metro Boomin and TM88 before randomly, dramatically turning to sample things like Rufus & Chaka Khan’s “Ain’t Nobody.” It was scattered, but it showed off the range and arsenal of a prodigious writer who has spent her life around musicians. A few months later, the sugary, genre-scanning Little Rocket explored Shane’s pop sense.
A highlight of it all was 2060’s Yachty duet “Sad,” a candy-coated jam about unrequited love and the solace that can sometimes be found in bitter moments. Shane and Yachty are kindred spirits who pull the best out of each other, and their collaboration provided an important benchmark for Shane: the precise moment where everything clicked. It’s no surprise, then, that “Sad” resurfaces on Zero Gravity, which is, as its title implies, a study in weightlessness.
Zero Gravity is a bite-sized compilation of old tracks and new ones, showcasing Shane’s seemingly limitless potential; it’s compact but full, animated yet balanced, marrying the buoyancy of Yachty (on a song like “Losing Service”) with the lucid journaling of Tink. She, like Tink, is a rapper and singer who blurs the line between the two (see: “A Ok”). But she’s far more explosive, with an impish warble that quickly morphs into a liquid falsetto, a playful chirp, or even a mopey whimper in a snap. This dynamism is obvious on the hook-heavy “Drip in My Walk,” which is the song most in-line with the Yachty canon here. She cycles through a few subtle inflection changes before settling for flat out exuberance, her natural state.
Listening to Shane feels rejuvenating. There’s a very particular energy to some of her songs that replicates tumbling around in a bouncy house. But there can be a delicacy to them, too, when her writing ventures into mature(r), more thoughtful R&B. In any mode, Shane meticulously crafts tunes that stay with you. She has the nuanced ear for melody that continues to elude Yachty, but her hooks are equally infectious, as she unspools skipping refrains with sweet, almost chant-like variations. Shane is a more complete songwriter, too; her ideas find resolution, especially on “Drip in My Walk” and “Can You Handle It”—the former seeing an extended basketball metaphor through to the end. Still, she fits her team’s bubblegum aesthetic perfectly. Even as her songs constantly move, they’re easy to follow. Yachty may be the internet’s star of today, but all signs point to Shane as a star of the future.
