Album Review: Please Don’t Cry by Rapsody
Album Review: Please Don’t Cry by Rapsody
Rapsody reveals the intricacies of who Marlanna Evans is by showcasing her profound technical skills intertwined with a newfound vulnerability that surpasses her previous works.
Emerging from a foundation of fierce independence, Rapsody, a multifaceted rapper, has evolved with each new release to collaborate with some of hip-hop’s most esteemed figures. Born and raised in Snow Hill, North Carolina, her interest in music was kindled at an early age through her parents’ record collections. Her initial mixtapes prominently featured the psychedelic and soulful beats crafted by the legendary producer 9th Wonder. As her career progressed throughout the years, she began to exchange verses with renowned artists such as Kendrick Lamar, J. Cole, and Anderson .Paak, further cementing her place in the hip-hop pantheon.
Rapsody’s musical journey exhibits a remarkable evolution, marked significantly by her transformative albums after her stint with Kooley High. In late 2010, she debuted with the Return of the B-Girl mixtape, a solid project produced in collaboration with The Soul Council and DJ Premier, featuring esteemed artists such as the legends Big Daddy Kane, Rah Digga, and the late Mac Miller. Hot on its heels, she delivered another two mixtapes: 2011’s Thank H.E.R. Now and For Everything. During that same year, she had the honor of opening for Mac Miller on his Incredibly Dope tour, after which she toured alongside Phoebe and 9th Wonder. Rapsody’s discography expanded with the release of her first EP, The Black Mamba, followed by her debut full-length album, The Idea of Beautiful, in 2012.
While her mixtapes boasted the predominant involvement of 9th Wonder in their production, her album was crafted by the Soul Council—a distinguished ensemble of producers including 9th Wonder, Khrysis, AMP, Ka$h Don’t Make Beats, and Eric G. She continued to build her reputation with the 2013 mixtape, She Got Game, earning a featured credit on Kendrick Lamar’s Grammy-winning track, “Complexion (A Zulu Love),” from his 2015 album To Pimp a Butterfly, and put out her final EP the following year with Crown, following the signing with JAY-Z’s Roc Nation Records.
While Laila’s Wisdom from 2017 saw Rap delving introspectively, meticulously crafting an exquisite portrayal of the Black woman’s experience, Eve showcases a distinct outward focus. With her most dynamic performances thus far, Rapsody pays homage to the Black women who paved the way, simultaneously carving out new spaces for future generations of Black women to thrive. However, with the release of her fourth studio album, Please Don’t Cry, Rapsody invites her audience directly into her personal life. This album is more personal and introspective than her previous works. It is through Please Don’t Cry that we are introduced to Marlanna Evans, the individual behind the persona of Rapsody.
Rapsody’s latest album is her most profound and daring creation to date. It poses the question, “Who are you at your most rawest state?” through the soothing voice of the album's guide, Phylicia Rashad. In the process of creating this album, Rapsody was inspired by the movie The Matrix, especially the dynamic between Neo and the Oracle. She relates to Neo’s quest for self-discovery, with Rashad fulfilling the role of her Oracle. It’s also to note that 9th Wonder is notably absent from the project, which helps with the album’s sound. However, Eric G. and Sndtrak are the only Soul Council members who worked on the project. Throughout the album, Rashad encourages Rapsody to embrace her vulnerability, asking plaintive questions about joy, sadness, and the reasons behind tears, as told in the “Please Don’t Cry Interlude.”
It’s evident with “Asteroids,” the album’s first single produced by hip-hop’s MVP, Hit-Boy, where she intricately articulates the complexities of her career and identity, weaving together personal insecurities, cultural criticisms, and a strong assertion of her abilities and principles. She tackles the broader cultural and industry issues, from the commodification of rap (“rap shit underexposed”) to the marginalization of genuine talent. Punctuated by references to notable figures and cultural moments, her lyrics challenge industry preconceptions and highlight her influence and intellect, represented by the powerful metaphor of the sun illuminating the Icaruses. Rapsody’s mastery of her craft (“what my penmanship did”) shines through, demonstrating how she transcends conventional barriers while critiquing the power structures that seek to exploit and diminish true artistry.
Before we hit the first single, we hear Phylicia Rashad’s voice on “She’s Expecting You,” which sets the tone for the album, which leads into "Marlanna,” a deep dive into Rapsody’s personal identity and experiences, boldly laying out her thoughts and beliefs, provided by Sndtrak and BLK ODYSSY (who produced most songs on the LP). She opens with her real name (“M-A-R-L-A-N-N-A/My birth name, my purse name the same as my cloth grade”), asserting authenticity and strength by likening herself to valuable items, yet demonstrating the pain behind her tough exterior. She reflects on her solitude and independence, juxtaposing her accomplishments with her internal struggles, societal unfairness, distrust in media, and the blurred lines between reality and illusion.
BLK ODYSSY provides a smooth backdrop to “Look What You’ve Done,” which presents a rich commentary on the conflict between material ambitions and personal integrity. Rapsody rejects superficial trends, likening herself to legendary artists and embracing her role as a mentor, plus showcasing her technical abilities. She underscores the importance of character over status. She reflects on her identity and purpose, plus addressing the emotional toll of the music industry, touching on the pressure to conform and the importance of representation. She also acknowledges the challenges women face in the industry and the need for genuine support.
One of the album’s notable cuts, “That One Time,” offers a narrative of transformation triggered by a singular event that altered her perception of herself and her relationships. The verse uncovers layers of hypocrisy, expectations placed on her, and internal conflicts, juxtaposing religious upbringing with personal actions. Rapsody wrestles with identity through the lens of external influences—family, society, and personal demons—concluding with an affecting acceptance of one’s truth, flaws, and value. But with the Monica-interpolated “DND (It’s Not Personal),” she speaks to the importance of disconnecting, both physically and mentally, from everyday demands.
A powerful track, “He Shot Me,” navigates themes of loss, injustice, and the cyclical trauma faced by Black communities while lyrically critiquing the insufficient responses to these tragedies. In the first verse, Rapsody narrates the brutal encounter of a couple confronted by police, resulting in the woman’s death, employing vivid storytelling and a degree of introspection. The lyrics juxtapose domestic normalcy with sudden, violent intrusion, highlighting the shock and terror experienced. The second verse delves into a deeper reflection on the systemic nature of such violence, referencing historical and contemporary figures like Assata Shakur and Breonna Taylor while also acknowledging the psychological scars and communal grief.
Another standout includes “Loose Rocks,” which delves into the raw reality of dealing with loss and change, using vivid imagery and heartfelt lines to convey the depth of her feelings. Rap reflects on the passage of time, grief, and the complexities of family relationships, especially in the face of dementia. The recurring theme of memory—both cherished and fading—highlights her sense of fear and sorrow, supported by Alex Isley's soothing vocals. On the flip side, “Diary of a Mad Bitch” is a fierce and honest exploration of personal betrayal and empowerment. Featuring Bibi Bourelly, Rapsody’s verses delve deeper, blending sharp social commentary with intense personal reflections by calling out dishonesty and deceit, framing her frustration with vivid imagery and cultural references.
“When a real one talking, bitch, shut the fuck up, you don’t know me
And I'm tired of lying nigga, save that crying shit for Taraji
I'm too raw for Jody’s and young nigga who only text wit’ emojis
Big egos, you make it way too easy for RICO.”
It’s not all heavy, as Rap continues to prove that she can have fun but still rhyme at a high level. “Raw” features a head-nodding beat that transitioned nicely from “Niko’s Interlude” and a Lil Wayne verse, a playful yet intense mix of wordplay and personal truths, teetering between romantic rawness and clever metaphors. He blends humor with raw sexual energy, referencing Wu-Tang Clan (as it interpolates “Shimmy Shimmy Ya”), while Rapsody, on the other hand, employs a more reflective and assertive approach, emphasizing themes of Black identity and strength. “Black Popstar” sees Rap with a confessional tone, talking about her attitude and the desire to hide it, and DIXSON puts his culture on display, which ties back to the pride and authenticity in his persona.
In “3:AM,” Rapsody and Erykah Badu craft a homage to intimacy, vulnerability, and the profound connection between two people. The verses by Rapsody are piteous reflections on how her partner catalyzes a transformative experience, likening this renewal to a form of spiritual healing. The lyric “You make me feel like Jesus/Or how God sees us” underscores the sanctity she attaches to this relationship. Both verses explore the tender dynamics of a deep bond, interspersed with cultural references from “Netflix asking if we still watching TV” to the evocative imagery of “staycations in St Regis.” Erykah Badu’s hook, meanwhile, adds a sensual, almost ethereal quality, emphasizing a slower, more deliberate appreciation of love, even if it means adding a little Melodyne to her voice. The outro by Rapsody transcends the immediate narrative to reflect on the relationship's enduring impacts and cherished memories, illustrating a poetic arc from initial connection to eventual parting.
“Stand Tall,” the first song recorded for the album, opens with a reference to renowned Persian poet Rumi, underscoring the importance of wisdom and introspection. She navigates various external judgments based on her appearance, contrasting materialism (“bags are bags no matter if they Tumi brand”) with deeper internal battles, such as anxiety and the loss of loved ones. These lines capture a reflection on how societal perceptions can exacerbate personal struggles. References to cultural icons like Dick Gregory enrich the narrative, placing Rapsody’s personal experiences within broader cultural and historical contexts.
In the Free Nationals and Chronixx-sampled “God’s Light,” Rapsody explores faith, buoyancy, and personal growth through poignant lyricism. Her journey takes a more introspective turn as she examines the lessons learned from her experiences, highlighting her relationship with the producer 9th Wonder, akin to how Tip and Phife split in 1998. Her verses are rich with cultural references—ranging from The Shining to Tina Turner—that color her narrative of overcoming adversity and illuminating the persistent strength drawn from her faith.
Major Seven produced multiple songs on Please Don’t Cry, including an 808-banger, “Back In My Bag,” Rap emphasizes her unwavering confidence and ability to overcome obstacles, often returning to the metaphor of being “back in her bag,” a phrase synonymous with being in top form or fully prepared. “Never Enough” is a Reggae-produced song that details Rap’s journey through regret and loss while critiquing societal falsehoods, such as pursuing happiness through wealth or external validation. Keznamdi concludes with a call to self-purification and communal unity, urging individuals to look within for revolution rather than blaming external entities.
The only gripe on the album is “Lonely Woman,” which sounds like audio erotica (thanks to BLK ODYSSY) where Rapsody is making moaning noises on the track, but she underscores the essential cruise of loving oneself, encapsulating the meaning behind intimacy beyond physical interactions. However, the follow-up “A Ballad for Homegirls” depicts a candid conversation between friends reflecting on relationship struggles and self-worth. Rapsody’s verse is marked by introspection and the realization that her behaviors mimic familial patterns, leading to a need for personal growth and healthier communication. She expresses frustration about her partner’s infidelities and the cycle of letting him back into her life, seeking her friend’s perspective as a form of accountability. Baby Tate’s rap-singing verse offers stark advice, emphasizing self-respect and the futility of staying with someone unworthy.
The album closes with the last two tracks, “Faith” and “Forget Me Not.” The former juxtaposes moments of darkness with bursts of hope and resilience, such as likening herself to a nurse who cares for others or a determined Malcolm X figure. She addresses personal betrayals and systemic hardships yet consistently affirms an unwavering belief in unconditional love and divine support. The latter features Moonchild’s Amber Navran on the hook, letting Rapsody detail the complexities of life and death, influenced by her upbringing and recent experiences. She recalls intimate conversations with her mother about their faith and the fear of death, juxtaposed with a profound yearning to experience life despite its inherent sadness fully.
“I want to know everything
I want to feel; I want to be alive
lt’s too good.”
Rapsody’s Please Don’t Cry is not only her most intimate and exposed work to date but also rises to the top as her finest achievement in her discography. The outro dialogue with Phylicia Rashad on the closing track transitions to a philosophical discussion on growth through change and exposure throughout Please Don’t Cry, suggesting a path to strength and acceptance. This layered narrative encapsulates a profound journey of emotional honesty, introspection, and the universal struggle with the inevitability of goodbyes. The notion that music can act as a form of therapy is widely recognized. However, it’s interesting to note that sometimes, undergoing therapy can inspire superior music creation, and it’s no different that Rap has done it again.
Standout (★★★★½)
Favorite Track(s): “Asteroids,” “Look What You’ve Done,” “That One Time,” “Loose Rocks,” “He Shot Me”