Album Review: Do It Afraid by Yaya Bey
Yaya Bey has delivered one of her most compelling projects yet, proving that sometimes the bravest thing an artist can do is embrace all facets of life and turn them into music.
Across her previous album, Ten Fold, Yaya Bey confronts themes of loss, self-worth, and solidarity, yet does so with a disarmingly humorous and warm tone. The songs seamlessly blend genres, featuring laid-back soul-jazz grooves and R&B melodies that underscore frank lyrics about heartbreak and resilience. Bey even included recorded appearances from her late father (the rapper Grand Daddy I.U.), making the project feel like a tribute as much as a catharsis. By pouring her pain into music, she was able to transform grief and insecurity into a full embrace of life, delivering snapshots of herself moving through loss while still finding moments of light. The outcome was an album praised as “dazzling and diverse,” solidifying Yaya Bey as one of R&B’s most promising new voices.
The success brought her to a new level of recognition. However, with that came a perception that her music was solely about struggle. Bey later reflected that after Ten Fold, she felt she had “suddenly become like the face of Black struggle,” even though in reality she embodies much more than pain. Those who know her work or have seen her live recognize her humor, joy, and multidimensional personality. As Bey wryly pointed out, being Black is “a very fucking fun experience… but people like to minimize us to one dimension.” This realization became a motivating force for her next project. After processing her grief on Ten Fold, Bey was determined that her subsequent music would showcase the other sides of herself—the fun, the love, the carefree spirit—as much as the struggles. In short, she was ready to flip the narrative and begin a new era.
In the months following Ten Fold, Yaya Bey kept up her momentum and signaled that a new era was on the horizon. She released a handful of songs and remixes that bridged the gap to her next album. Notably, Bey released the single “The Evidence” (along with a remix of it) and “Career Day” (remixed by Exaktly) later in 2024, reimagining tracks from Ten Fold in fresh ways. These interim releases hinted that Bey was continuing to experiment with her sound and revisit her material from new angles. By early this year, she began rolling out brand-new tracks that would form the core of her upcoming album. “Dream Girl” arrived with a hazy, dreamy R&B vibe, while “Wake Up Bitch” was sharp-tongued and urgent, driven by a hip-hop pulse. Bey also dropped “Merlot and Grigio,” a vibrant collaboration featuring Bajan artist Father Philis, that leaned into Caribbean soca influences.
Behind the scenes, Bey was also making some notable career moves during this period. Do It Afraid would see her partnering with a new record label (the independent imprint drink sum wtr), a shift from her previous release on Big Dada. In fact, Bey was so committed to her vision for the album that she fronted the recording budget herself before any label was even on board. This level of conviction underscores how personal the project was to her. By taking the reins financially and creatively, Yaya Bey ensured that Do It Afraid would fully reflect her artistic intentions without compromise. As the album came together, it was clear that she was entering a fresh phase of her career, one defined not by external narratives but by her own reclaimed story.
The title itself spoke volumes. The phrase “do it afraid” embodies the album’s central theme, encouraging one to move forward with courage even when faced with fear. Bey has explained that this motto means nothing in life is guaranteed, but you shouldn’t let that stop you from pursuing your dreams. “You can try your hardest at something and not be guaranteed success, but that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t do it,” she said, emphasizing that she channels courage by acting despite her fears. “You can’t be courageous if you are not first afraid, because there’s nothing to be brave about if you’re not afraid,” Bey points out. This mindset of embracing uncertainty and pushing through fear forms the emotional backbone of the album.
In conceiving Do It Afraid, Bey deliberately shifted her focus toward joy, love, and freedom, the “vulnerable” parts of herself that she felt had been overshadowed by trauma in people’s perceptions. “I wrote this album from the most vulnerable parts of me, which contrary to what many people want to believe about me, is not my trauma but my desire to love, to feel joy… to be free,” she explained. Pain and loss are inevitable in life, but Bey’s goal was to find the courage to “dance in the face of the inevitable” and “savor the now and make it beautiful.” This philosophy, by finding peace in life’s duality of suffering and joy, guided the creation of the album. Rather than centering the music on heartbreak or anger, she centered it on resilience and delight. In her own words, Do It Afraid is for her people: “We are brave, resilient, and joyful. I made this album for us. May we continue to do it afraid.”
Bey gives us songs that make us dance, songs that make us think, and songs that simply make us feel good. The lyricism flows naturally from self-interrogation to political commentary, to intimacy, and ultimately to outright joy, mirroring the album’s musical range. Bey refuses to separate the personal from the political or the serious from the playful—all of it coexists in her work. She has spoken at length about how Black joy is both political and worth celebrating for its own sake, and that philosophy permeates the album. Even as she touches on heavy subjects (racism, economic hardship, mental health, faith), there’s a thread of hope and defiance in every song. The very first words you hear on the record are, “If you want to be brave, first you got to be afraid,” delivered in Bey’s cool voice over a sparse beat. Do It Afraid truly embraces life’s contradictions; it’s at once weighty in subject matter but light in feel, a “heavyweight record” that is never a difficult listen. Yaya Bey manages to get her message across without sacrificing the pleasure of the music, which is an extraordinary achievement.
The variety never feels patched together because Bey keeps arrangements lean and personal. Short run times help; only a few songs cross three minutes, so ideas spark and fade before turning rote. Interludes such as “Real Yearners Unite” and “A Tiny Thing That’s Mine” act less like filler and more like palate cleansers. Content cuts just as sharply. “Choice” is a spare mid-tempo prayer in which she admits she is mad at God but chooses to trust anyway. In “Breakthrough,” she flips exhaustion into a pep talk, telling herself, “Don’t take this magic for granted,” then lets a distorted bass line carry the promise. When she addresses the industry, the words are blunt: streaming pays “half a penny,” and labels treat labor and likeness as raw material, so the only defense is to “shake the table” and say no. Nothing in her delivery sounds resigned; these facts are laid out so the celebration that follows feels earned rather than naïve.
To bring her expanded vision to life, Bey also collaborated with a cast of talented producers and musicians on the album. She worked with members of the jazz-funk collective Butcher Brown (who had also contributed to Ten Fold), teaming up again with producer/musician DJ Harrison for several tracks. Acclaimed instrumental group BADBADNOTGOOD lent their touch as producers on the standout “Blicky,” and beatmakers like Exaktly and others helped shape the record’s sonic palette. Even with these collaborations, Bey’s own world-building ear ties everything together. Her imprint is felt in the clever arrangements and the way the album flows despite its variety. One track that holds special significance is “Raisins.” Produced by DJ Harrison, this song moved Yaya Bey to tears the first time she heard its lush, jazz-inflected groove. This track became the heart of the album’s narrative. In it, Bey reflects on the “generational journey” she’s part of, from her father’s struggles in the music industry to her own pressures and fear of failure. “I can’t run no more,” she intones over subtle drum taps, before delivering a line that encapsulates her leap of faith with this project: “So if I step out on faith/For heaven’s sake/Let it be everything I dreamed of.” These words, tucked near the album’s center, echo the Do It Afraid ethos of pursuing one’s dreams despite fear.
If Ten Fold showed Yaya Bey’s knack for blending genres, Do It Afraid takes that eclecticism to new heights. The album plays like a vibrant mosaic of Black musical styles, all held together by Bey’s soulful voice and point of view. What’s remarkable is that despite covering so much ground, the album remains cohesive. The album shifts between moods and tempos, featuring eighteen tracks that range from brief interludes to more fleshed-out songs. However, it’s intentionally crafted to take the listener on a winding journey. The songs flow in a way that feels almost mixtape-like, yet the ride is never jarring. Bey finds logical through-lines between disparate sounds, creating a listening experience that’s dynamic but unified. In a sharp turn from the opener, “End of the World” is a softly percussive lover’s anthem. With a dreamy, laid-back groove, this highlights Bey’s tender side. She conveys the idea of finding intimate joy even when it feels like the world is falling apart. Placed early on the album, it brings a sense of warmth and romance, proving that Bey’s vision of joy includes quiet, personal moments of love.
“In a Circle” is built on a hip-house style beat, the kind of infectious four-on-the-floor rhythm that urges you to dance without a second thought (just like “No for Real, WTF?”). Yaya Bey calls this the “big stepping, ‘throwin-that-ass-around’ club call” of the album, and indeed it’s an upbeat party-starter. Clocking in at under three minutes, it doesn’t overstay its welcome; instead, it punches in, gets the vibe going, and then steps aside, leaving listeners energized. True to her working-class perspective, Bey lays bare some real-life frustrations. On “Bella Noches Pt. 1,” Bey bluntly decries low wages and rising rents. Over a slinky, bass-heavy beat, she vents about the grind of trying to survive in an unforgiving economy. The track’s title references “Bella Noches” (likely alluding to the viral meme “if you can’t go to Bella Noches, then where can you go?”—a phrase about finding joy despite circumstances). Fittingly, Bey turns her critique of capitalism into a cathartic groove, making social commentary feel empowering.
Do It Afraid details how far Yaya Bey has come since Ten Fold and a bold declaration of where she’s headed. It transforms vulnerability into strength and hardship into celebration. The album is joyous, confrontational, funny, and poignant all at once, much like Yaya Bey herself. By facing her fears and doing it anyway, she has created a body of work that not only reflects her personal life but also encourages listeners to find their own courage and joy, evidenced in the reggae joints “Spin Cycle” and “Real Yearners Unite.” In a music world often obsessed with trends and images, Yaya Bey stands out by being unabashedly herself and trusting that the right people will get it. And if Do It Afraid is any indication, her faith is paying off. She has delivered one of her most compelling projects yet, proving that sometimes the bravest thing an artist can do is embrace all facets of life—the pain, the laughter, the doubt, the hope—and turn them into music. Yaya Bey has done exactly that, and she’s done it fearlessly.
Great (★★★★☆)
Favorite Track(s): “End of the World,” “Spin Cycle,” “Blicky”