Artist To Look Out For: Tierra Whack

When you think of female rappers right now, undoubtedly artists like Cardi B and Nicki Minaj come to mind. 

With quick-witted lyricism and the classic catchy beat to accompany it, both female rappers make hits that are impossible not to put on repeat. Yet walking our own Philly streets, there is a lone soldier in the field of female rap. She does supply both quick whits and catchy beats, but Tierra Whack adds her own colorful twist to your average rap song. 

Her debut album “Whack World” consists of 15 songs and the entire album is only 15 minutes. Sounds strange, doesn't it? Who wants to listen to a song that’s only one minute long? In an interview for The New York Times, Whack describes this concept by saying, “I’ll listen to a new song and I only want to hear 30 seconds of it before I tell you, ‘Nope — trash.’” 

When considering her point it makes a lot of sense. We can all admit to skipping to the middle of a song in order to see if it’s truly good, or giving up on a song we don’t like a few seconds into it. Whack uses our short attention spans to her benefit. 

Before we can decide if we like it or not, the song is over and it’s on to the next. Some songs on this album you’ll be begging for a full version, and some you may find it’s perfect at its simple, short length. It’s best to hear the album from start to finish, yet you don’t have to. Whack creates each song with its own personality. 

Every song Whack puts her name on is guaranteed to be a lyrical roller coaster. Her song “Hungry Hippo” flips stereotypes and tells a story of how she “provides swag” for her man by buying him fancy things. 

“Pet Cemetery” describes the sad story of her dead dog. Although this song’s concept sounds depressing, the playful beat is lead by repetitive piano notes and dog barks. 

Whack has a song called “Dr. Seuss” where the autotune fluctuates from high to low pitch, clearly drawing inspiration from the quirky books she read as a child. Whack even created a 15-minute visual album that shows a story for each song. This music video currently has over 2 million views, continuing to grow along with the world’s curiosity about Tierra Whack. 

Whack’s approach to music defies all boundaries. Her growing success shows all artists that creativity is still welcomed in the music industry. By creating short and playful beats to accompany her playful lyricism, she gets her messages across while still remaining pleasing to the ear. If you are looking for new music and would like to support North Philadelphian artists, I highly suggest the sensational, Tierra Whack. 

Updates!

Hello Readers!

I truly apologize for not posting frequently, applying for colleges plus my current school work has kept me super busy! Now that I'm almost done with applying and I'll be in Paris/London soon (YAY), I'll be posting frequently.
So please, keep reading within the next few months if you want some awesome travel blogs and photos!

Love you!

My Destructive Quality

I think one of my most destructive qualities is that I worry when people think of me. Not in the sense that I fear people will see me as ugly, rude, or strange. It’s that they’ll just think of me. I hate when people think of me at all. 

I just finished watching Silver Linings Playbook and I was laying in bed sobbing. I guess I was so loud my roommate heard. She, very kindly, asked if I was alright. 

I immediately jumped to, “no no don’t worry I’m fine. I was watching a movie and I was just thinking about it and my family, and it made me tear up.” This wasn’t a lie, I was thinking about my family. Yet I couldn’t express to her why I was actually crying. 

I couldn’t express it because, to be completely honest, I don’t even really know myself why I was so sad. 

When she asked me I felt so embarrassed. As if her catching me and asking if I was okay was the worst thing that could’ve happened. She caught me, she caught me in my most intimate element. It feels as if exposed me to a room. As if there were people surrounding us, and she said “are you alright, Lindsey?” and everyone looked at me. Everyone staring at me and only seeing my red face, swollen eyes, and dripping nose. 

Yet, she didn’t do that. She was kind and sincere. All she wanted to know was if I was alright. It’s only the two of us in this room, nobody to judge me. So why do I feel angry with her? 

I don’t want anyone to see me upset. I just want people to see the fake me. The fake smiles, fake laughs, the fake reassurance that I’m normal and fine all the time. That’s destructive. 

I’m slowly starting to see that this is no way to go through life, but I know it will be an even slower process to actually change myself. Sometimes I worry I’ll never change. But I believe in time and time tells everything. Usually I’d say to myself “hopefully by tomorrow she’ll forget I even cried.” But now I’m taking a step forward to bettering myself. 

Hopefully tomorrow I won’t feel embarrassed as I do right now. 

I won’t say anything to her again about this, even though I probably should. 

I need to go slow. I must start with myself. Hopefully tomorrow I won’t feel embarrassed or angry. There is nothing to be embarrassed or angry about. 

The Art of Making a Great Playlist

I’d like to start this essay by saying I am no Frank Ocean, who created the beautifully smooth Blonded RADIO, or Zane Lowe, Beats 1 radio legend. I’m simply the average Apple Music fanatic who believes I’ve built up fine cohesive skills when it comes to playlist making.

First, obviously you must have access to a music streaming service. Personally, I prefer Apple Music but if you’re a Spotify or Tidal user, playlist making is all the same. I’ve never actually used Tidal, but I would assume you can make playlists in the similar fashion as Apple Music and Spotify.

Then you must find your theme for this playlist. If you have a diverse taste in music then you can choose between pop, r&b, rap, classical, etc. If you find yourself only listening to one type of music like pop, you can choose between slower pop songs, love pop songs, happy pop songs, etc. Sometimes, you may find yourself wanting to go a little crazy. You may want to mix all your genres together to form a collection of everything you love. This is of course an option, but if you wish to make it sonically cohesive, it may not be the best idea. Sticking to one sub category is easier to gain more listeners. Even though you may love heavy metal and classical, usually a listener won’t share that similarity.

As simple as this process sounds, it can get frustrating if you find your playlist not meeting your full expectations. Sometimes you just adore a song and wish to add it, yet it may not fit the theme of your playlist, therefore it’s not the best idea to include it. As William Faulkner once said, “In writing, you must kill all your darlings.” Playlist making is not as complex as writing some of the most divine books of all time, but the phrase still holds its truth.

Some may consider this process not worthy of a detailed tutorial, although to me it’s more than “a process.” Music is one of the most essential pieces of my life. Not a day goes by where I don’t listen to one of my playlists. So having them organized concisely is quite the help since my moods often fluctuate. Some days I feel like blasting J.Cole and the Dreamville gang through my speakers, and other days I lay in bed and cry to Nina Simone. Due to my creation of my playlists, “Dreamville Essentials” and “Many Tears Left To Cry,” with only a few clicks my music is right where I need it to be.

Follow me here on Apple Music.

Personal Essay - My Heart is Where Home Is

 

My Heart Is Where Home Is

The older I get the more often I realize how nothing can prepare you for the difficulties of growing up. Don’t get me wrong, life can be fantastic at times. It can also be a horrific self induced nightmare that leaves you laying in bed, cradling yourself and crying out your mother. Thinking about college as a wide-eyed junior in high school had me excited for the future. I thought, “Finally, I’ll be alone. I’ll have life-long friends and consistent hot and heavy one night stands. Life is gonna be great!” Well to all the wide eyed high school girls who've possibly thought this, please understand that’s far from the case. Sitting in my pea sized dorm on this Friday night, I felt the urge to describe how my life’s gotten so complicated since I slowly became the baggy under-eyed woman who really isn’t happy with her life.

I know I’m not the only person in the world that has really really bad days. There are people out there struggling, fighting and suffering much more than I am. I acknowledge that and sympathize with them. Although that doesn’t mean that you can’t take a moment to cry over a terrible interaction with the deli guy who messed up your order. I mean come on, I really, really hate cheese I don’t want it NEAR my bacon, egg and hot sauce no matter how strange that sounds. But seriously, why do the horrible moments in one’s life always seem to be the most impactful? From the deli guy messing up my order, to finding out my dad has a terminal disease. Why must these moments keep me laying awake at night? Why can’t we remember the peaceful moments?  Like the days I find heads up pennies, or hold the door open for a stranger and they genuinely smile back and say, “thanks darling.” Simple moments where my brain stops rattling and I’m not suffering from terrible headaches, or as I like to call them: brain bombs.

Being away from home in a completely new environment seems to have be the cause of my consistent brain bombs. My life at home is simpler, I have friends that I trust, family that reassures me and a boyfriend I love and miss like crazy. People like to say “Home is where the heart is,” but I think a better way to phrase that is: your heart is where home is. Living away in a new city has made my body feel hollow. My heart isn’t with me anymore. My heart is home, two hours away sleeping with my boyfriend like I should be doing. God my heart is such a slut..I’ve been thinking about in high school I hated the people. I never had any real friends who cared about me. Sure I had friends there who would care if I never texted back or stood them up for lunch, but they never cared about me. Nothing was keeping me home, so leaving for college two hours away felt like the right thing to do.

My boyfriend, Hero (yes his name is fitting), is the only person that’s ever made me feel like something other than a bore. I met him a week after I committed to a college two hours away from home, where he would be finishing his last year of high school. Hero actually cares about me. He kisses me, and asks me how my days been. I can tell by the way he looks at me when he talks to me that my response is important. When we facetime he always calls me “mad cute” and sometimes I make it seem like I don’t agree, but somehow he’s genuinely convinced me that’s he’s right. I am mad cute!

Ever since I left to go to school, I dream everyday of coming back. I can’t live in this hollow shell of a woman anymore. I need my heart back in my chest. What people don’t tell you about college is that it’s super lonely. I don’t have friends or family here. Which means that once again I’m back to the way I felt before I met Hero. At school I don't have someone that comforts me, and helps me feel a little bit better on days where my brain bombs are worse than usual. College feels like home did...So why does home feel like college was supposed to feel? It’s because my heart is where home is, and my belongs to Hero. The feeling of true love is hard to describe. Don’t believe what Nicholas Sparks or Nora Ephron, it’s really hard to explain unless you’ve felt it. If I had to try, it’s merely the feeling of calmness. The termination of brain bombs, that relaxing moment right after you’ve thrown up, or the way ur face feels after you’ve stopped crying.

I could care less about my house when I visit. My room is simply where I sleep. The only time my room actually has meaning, is the moment Hero steps inside of it and we attempt to share my lumpy twin sized bed. Some people may just read this and call me “a silly girl in love.” To that I’d reply: yes, I am a silly girl in love. It’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me, and I can’t wait to go home.  

Poetry Collection - A Study of Aging

A Study of Aging

“How It Feels To Be The Moon”:

When the Sun dimmed his lights,

My thoughts became craters.

There is a surplus of darkness,

and I have begun the glow a lustrous white.

For once I am seen!

I shine my light onto Earth,

Although what I see is not what I thought.

Where have you gone?

Why not look at me?!

I am here so bright, ones eyes wrinkle beneath my rays!

Yet you’re not looking,

Why?

Alas, I am reminded.  

It is now night.

The eyes once opened, have closed for rest,

My thoughts must stay with me again this slumber,

True, it may be for the best.

“Turning Seventy Nine”
Everyday at quarter to one, I go and visit the mirror.
There lives an old woman of maybe seventy five.
Youth stripped down leaving fragile bones suctioned onto a wrinkled blanket.
I would never dare propose a hello or goodbye,
Too paralyzed in the trance she pulls me into.
Her demeanor is chilling.
Belligerence swirls inside her eyes,
She's not a harmless old woman, of maybe seventy five.
She's lost some battles, I can surely tell
She's been left to rot,
Another box on a garage sales self.
This poor old woman,
No one seems to care,
If she dies, if she lies, or even if she stares.
The park bench is where she will go, I know I'll find her there one night.
Cold and freezing,

Although today, she is safe.
Still living behind my glass mirror
But it won't be long until,
This poor old woman, of maybe seventy five
Turns seventy nine.

“Sundays At Age Sixteen”

Today is the day smog is replaced by sun.

It is 6:05 now and my eyesight is sharp, and my mind is jelly

On days which drip rage, the smog creeps beneath my bedroom door

Through my ears, it settles.

But today is Sunday.

The smog is lifted.

My dining room is silent

The ringing inside my ears has gone away

I feel relaxed from my fingers to my toes.

I sit in my grandmother’s chair and study the sun.

Birds flutter towards my window, then hush away.

The solitude comes in rushes on Sundays.

My overbearing thoughts have disappeared,

Yet I crave their return.  

Somehow madness feels more comfortable than loneliness.

Inside my smog I keep myself company with my made-up world,

Where lovers meet,  

Where friends are at peace.

Fake realities and lives I create, to keep me warm.

On Sunday they take their coffee breaks and visit their children across town.

I am alone

My shoulders shake from warmth,

But I haven't decided if I like that yet.

“March 29th and the thoughts inside my mind”

It was March 29th,

I was in the lunchroom with my left side, my right brain,

We discussed school work and laughed about boys

Innocent blabber about insects crawling on top of our lunch plates.

But little did we know,

In the next 5 minutes,

Our voices we’re hushed.

We stood still like dust.

I felt the urge to scream, cry, shit my pants, and sob

My emotions fell over me,

Like the brick wall outside.

The brick wall that’s supposed to protect us from any harm, right?

My left side and I share looks with hopeful eyes, with whatever flicker remains in our deteriorated smiles

Five more minutes have passed.

We’ve stopped talking.

I receive a text from my mother

I can hear her shaky voice through the coding on my screen

I reply back love notes and white lies.

I wish to seep honey for her,

but only salt builds up inside.

Ten minutes passed,

We are under the tables now, all four of us.

I can't hear anything outside, but we must take precautions,

We must comply to prevent more losses.

We must comply because our second amendment tells us:

We are free, and freedom comes with a price tag.

Freedom to me isn’t hiding under my table clutching my best friends soaked shirt.

We are teenage girls

We should be mixing vodka and coke,

Not tears and sweat

I am a sixteen year old girl

I should be receiving my first college admission letters, not my first bullet hole.

So why is it-

That instead of going to English class and learning about One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest,

I’m underneath a classroom desk being told to hold my knees to my chest.

“Silly Boys!”

Silly girls are lovers drowning in puddles and praying for the hands of their hero.

Silly boys’ lies sneak out underneath their fingertips while rescuing silly girls-

poisoning their brains with sweet and sour candy.

Silly boys are dark clouds creeping towards a glistening patch of sun.

Overlap each other to find Their One-

To rip apart and sell out like used car parts.

An engine for you, sir!

A tire for him!

Nothing left for her but

bare.

used.

skin.

The patch of sun turns into a rain cloud.

It's dissolved into the dark grey sky.

I feel her dropping cold wet goodbyes.

Silly boys sneak up to girls at parties.

Hold down their feet and kiss them closely.

“She can't kick if we kiss her!”

Silly boys’ mouths are like milk cartons.

Hoaxes dribbles down the sides, stinking of spoiled milk.

It fills the floor, and I drown in it.

A$AP Rocky's Injured Generation Tour Does Not Disappoint

                            

           "You know, I used to live in Harrisburg.." Rocky spoke to the hundreds with his signature smile, "THAT AIN'T PHILLY!!!" a voice rang out from the crowd. Rocky chuckled and agreed, "Yeah, that sure ain't Philly." 

            A$AP Rocky's tour for his latest album, TESTING, had been hyped up by him and his AWGE posy for months now. When I got my ticket in November, I was trilled. Even though TESTING may not be considered his best work compared to AT.LONG.LAST.A$AP and LONG.LIVE.A$AP, it's still a monumental album in his career. This album showcased a new Rocky, one who is experimental (hence the name). TESTING did deliver, according to Hot New Hip Hop's article, Rocky's album first week album sales were in the 70,000's. To anyone who listened to Rocky's album, what did you think of his new exploratory side?

           As for the concert itself, it brought the same excitement as the album. Opening with a favorite of mine, "Distorted Records", the crowd launched into excitement and the jumping began. Rocky came onto the stage with a mysterious TESTING themed ski mask. To the crowds pleasure, he later removed it revealing his charming and irresistible smile. Rocky played the crowd pleasers, "Praise the Lord," "F**kin' Problems, and "Wild For the Night" that lead to multiple mosh pits, heavy screaming, and of course, some underwear throwing. When we got towards the middle of the concert, Rocky decided to get more romantic with the crowd and lied in the middle of his stage. He serenaded us all with his hit song, "L$D" while trippy pictures and videos filled the scream above.

           The stage set up was impossible to overlook. With car's hanging from the ceiling, a ginormous  screen with consistent moving images and videos, and a long runway with a circular end, you could see Rocky from anywhere within The Liacouras Center. I personally got very lucky and pushed my way to the barricade of the stage and was welcomed by the people around me. When you think general admission concert, you usually imagine loud, annoying people around you shoving in any direction they can. Although I found at this concert the people around me were very welcoming. I even made friends with some girls behind me and intended to stay friends after the concert was over.

           Overall, if you're lucky enough to see the pretty boy himself, A$AP Rocky, I highly recommend you do so on his Injured Generation tour. Promised with madness, fun, sweat, and tears, you will surely have a night you'll never forget.