Maybe the one part of Blackness that others outside of it can’t comprehend is the world-building in the word-building we experience in our music. That process that reflects our culture. Something one eases into like fingers dipped in stylinggel or oil before going to weave someone’s hair into something magical. Or, like an Afro-pick getting a blowout ‘fro just right for the day or the evening.
Sitting in the Brooklyn Heights branch of the Brooklyn Public Library last Friday evening, I had that feeling settle over me as I sat as part of a heavy crowd that was on hand to hear Rapsody discuss her latest album, God Gotta Afro & Gold Hoops. The line at the front desk to RSVP was already abundant, and we all made our way to grab what seat we could, anxious about the library not having enough room.
The event was part of a series held through the Brooklyn Public Library, Bars & Books. The series’ creator, Alanna Launer, greeted us and broke down the ground rules for the session - the artist and the moderator would chat for a bit, and then we’d check out the album, four songs at a time withbreaks in between to discuss and share our thoughts. Everyone received a lyric booklet for the album, a blank book and pencil.
I’ve been a fan of Rapsody for quite some time, going back to her first drops on 9th Wonder’s Jamla Records. Mainly, the Thank H.E.R. Now album from 2011. But what cemented her position as one of the MCs to really watch for me is the track“Betty Shabazz”, off of the Jamla Is The Squad album.
God Gotta Afro & Gold Hoops, is her fifth and second after signing with Roc Nation. And sitting there listening to it was a different experience. It felt like church. Like camp meetings, as the seasoned saints in Mt. Olivet Baptist Church, my Grandma Smith’s church up in Harlem, would call them.
It felt moving to sit in that sonic landscape with Rapsody, smiling brightly with the soft Black regal crown that her Afro was, complete with gold hoop Raveen earrings (a collaboration with designer Simone J. Smith and available on her website). Same gleam in her eye like Lena Horne when shewas Glinda The Good Witch in The Wiz - which Rapsody told us was part of her inspiration as she wrote and recorded the album.When asked for her reaction to the crowd’s reaction to her music, she responded: “It’s fulfilling…I’m sure there are some creatives in some form or another in here, I do it because I have something to say, I want to inspire somebody. I want to be the soundtrack to the feeling they have.”
The night was full of gems, as Rapsody spoke about how much the library meant to her when she was younger back in Snow Hill, North Carolina, and how much rapper and activist Sister Souljah’s No Disrespect book inspired her along with the work of bell hooks. With God Gotta Afro, hearing it in the Bars & Books session, I could see the layers of inspiration Rapsody wanted us to have with the album. The wellspring of Black love in all its forms and how it makes up the eternal vertebrae of our community.
That was evident as many of us danced to the opening tracks of the album. I felt like I was back at the old YWCA building in downtown Brooklyn, back in the days of the Tea Party open mic on Sunday evenings where I would go to read my poetry and get down on a diet of house music, jazz, soul and some R&B. The album feels like a house party, one where you're comfortable on the edges or right in the mix of the dance circle.
Rapsody talked about how God Gotta Afro was conceived to dispel the divisiveness of diaspora wars that seem to be like pilates for the digitally loud and ignorant these days on social media. There’s the fact that she extensively worked with Karabo Ya Morena, a gospel group from Soweto, South Africa throughout the album. Xhosa can be heard on the truly indulgent track “Apple Juice”, and you get a taste of New Orleans on “Pick A Side” in the chorus. She and Malice of Clipse drop some potent and powerful lyrics on “Black Love”, and we even get singer/songwriter Nomisupasta on a track with the legendary funk master himself, George Clinton in “OMG! (Love To Sun Ra).
I’m grateful to have been in the house for this Bars & Books session. Because this album is truly literature of the soul, and it was timely. Her last album, Please Don't Cry, dropped in 2024 at a time where I myself was reflecting on past wounds and recalibrating my soul. And this album carries a new, pulsating but patient message.
“With Please Don’t Cry, I felt like I was more vulnerable, because I was too busy hearing what everyone else was saying,” Rapsody said in response to a question from the audience about her inner work in writing the bars for the album. “With this album, I was like, “I’m going to say what I feel. I feel more free, unburdened.”
There was so much Black joy and pride in that space. So much so that we ran past the allotted time for the event. I headed out, making my way into the evening as I felt the slight chill of the incoming fall season. But I still felt warm from all the energy of Rapsody’s album and the space that the Bars & Books series provided.
In a time where books are being banned among the other authoritarian leanings being shown out by the current government, it’s good to have such reminders of how our arthas always sustained us like God Gotta Afro. To share a space where we can see the divinity we’ve always had reflected in us. ‘Cause we’ve always had it.