CIRCA91 review - A low-class masterpiece
(Reviewed by Melody Werner)
Circa91 is a 2017 conscious rap album by Filipina scientist, rapper, poet, and spoken word artist, Ruby Ibarra. Released by Beatrock Music, it didn't catch much fire commercially--Ruby herself is most well known for having featured on a track for her friend, SZA--and I didn't get recommended this by some trusted outlet or anything. I checked it out because I was doing research for woman rappers to cover in an upcoming segment of All Time Greats for rappers and saw a commenter on a video by theneedledrop recommend her. I gotta say, I was expecting something entirely different from this when I first saw Ruby on Spotify and listened to Nadine Lustre's "No 32" which Ruby featured on; those two first pieces of info gave me the impression that Ruby was going to be this glamorous quasi-singer, quasi-rapper. I didn't expect conscious rap this smart, introspective, and powerful. I didn't expect to be so drawn in, so spellbound, that I'd listen to the whole album from front to back. I was planning on listening to a few of her relative hits to get a feel for her style so that I could give a few sentences about her artistry in that segment. But then I started listening. I heard the thought-provoking lyricism, her voice and flows, the minimalistic and beautiful production--and I knew that I had to listen to the whole album. Because--holy hell! This thing is spectacular.
The production, provided by Ruby and Fatgums, is at times skeletal and haunting--others, it goes much harder, front-facing, and cacophonous. Either way, it unilaterally shreds and always suits the song's atmosphere, utilizing a mix of trap type hi-hats and jazz samples. It all sounds so GREAT, as her voice isn't ever smothered by the beat or anything. In fact, Ibarra smashes every beat into the ground with her exceptional, fluid flows full of style and energy. And going back to her voice--god, I adore it. She reeks of what we in the business call "a natural." You can feel the emotion in every bar, her rage at our broken, racist system and the colonialism it was founded on. Her flows are varied, yet always convincing. Every bar feels like this profound proclamation--which is also true of the lyrics.
It seems like every other week, we have some new oldhead boomer crawling out of the woodwork to whine about a supposed dearth of lyricism in today's rap. Which is plainly ridiculous, for a number of reasons--for one, repetitive lyrics can be used to great effect to induce a trance-like atmosphere. But the fact which Ruby epitomizes is how no one actually bothers to listen to lyrical wizards who, by virtue of streaming internationalizing acts that would otherwise be locally-based, are just as easy to discover and listen to as your Lil Pump's and 6ix9ine's. Ibarra's lyrics are clever, introspective, and she's full of insights to share derived from her background as a Filipina. While she's not above flexing and braggadocio, the album is most frequently somber and heartbreaking, speaking of the pain that can come with being a first generation immigrant as Ruby is. But if you've also had a boot on your neck your whole life in this late capitalist hellscape, there are bars that will hit pretty hard regardless of your background, like "At school, reduced lunches while my mama skip her lunchtime/Nine to five minimum wage, she at the bus line." Fucking ouch.
Circa91 is a 2017 conscious rap album by Filipina scientist, rapper, poet, and spoken word artist, Ruby Ibarra. Released by Beatrock Music, it didn't catch much fire commercially--Ruby herself is most well known for having featured on a track for her friend, SZA--and I didn't get recommended this by some trusted outlet or anything. I checked it out because I was doing research for woman rappers to cover in an upcoming segment of All Time Greats for rappers and saw a commenter on a video by theneedledrop recommend her. I gotta say, I was expecting something entirely different from this when I first saw Ruby on Spotify and listened to Nadine Lustre's "No 32" which Ruby featured on; those two first pieces of info gave me the impression that Ruby was going to be this glamorous quasi-singer, quasi-rapper. I didn't expect conscious rap this smart, introspective, and powerful. I didn't expect to be so drawn in, so spellbound, that I'd listen to the whole album from front to back. I was planning on listening to a few of her relative hits to get a feel for her style so that I could give a few sentences about her artistry in that segment. But then I started listening. I heard the thought-provoking lyricism, her voice and flows, the minimalistic and beautiful production--and I knew that I had to listen to the whole album. Because--holy hell! This thing is spectacular.
The production, provided by Ruby and Fatgums, is at times skeletal and haunting--others, it goes much harder, front-facing, and cacophonous. Either way, it unilaterally shreds and always suits the song's atmosphere, utilizing a mix of trap type hi-hats and jazz samples. It all sounds so GREAT, as her voice isn't ever smothered by the beat or anything. In fact, Ibarra smashes every beat into the ground with her exceptional, fluid flows full of style and energy. And going back to her voice--god, I adore it. She reeks of what we in the business call "a natural." You can feel the emotion in every bar, her rage at our broken, racist system and the colonialism it was founded on. Her flows are varied, yet always convincing. Every bar feels like this profound proclamation--which is also true of the lyrics.
It seems like every other week, we have some new oldhead boomer crawling out of the woodwork to whine about a supposed dearth of lyricism in today's rap. Which is plainly ridiculous, for a number of reasons--for one, repetitive lyrics can be used to great effect to induce a trance-like atmosphere. But the fact which Ruby epitomizes is how no one actually bothers to listen to lyrical wizards who, by virtue of streaming internationalizing acts that would otherwise be locally-based, are just as easy to discover and listen to as your Lil Pump's and 6ix9ine's. Ibarra's lyrics are clever, introspective, and she's full of insights to share derived from her background as a Filipina. While she's not above flexing and braggadocio, the album is most frequently somber and heartbreaking, speaking of the pain that can come with being a first generation immigrant as Ruby is. But if you've also had a boot on your neck your whole life in this late capitalist hellscape, there are bars that will hit pretty hard regardless of your background, like "At school, reduced lunches while my mama skip her lunchtime/Nine to five minimum wage, she at the bus line." Fucking ouch.
Tonally, Circa91 is resoundingly dark. Not scary in the black metal sense. No, no. The lyrics here are pure existential dread grounded in things far more real than demons, the deepest reaches of Hell, or whatever. That said, the bonus track, "Yuh" is proof positive that Ruby can just as handily kill it with a fun as hell track too. It's a perfect bonus track, cuz it doesn't really fit the album, but is great for blowing off the tension of what you just listened to.
While Ruby quickly sold me on her ability to carry a track by herself, features are always a big question mark. Will they match the flagship artist/act? Or will they outshine, or underdeliver? Circa91 has a number of featured artists, and those'd be: Ann One, Nump Trump, Bambu, Rocky Rivera, Klassy, and Faith Santilla. They all add their own flair in their contributions, but never dilute the album's message or steal the show from Ruby. This is her album, after all, but you still come away with a greater level of respect for all of them. Which is ideal for features, innit?
Circa91 is an absolutely glorious album, emotionally powerful and revealing as it is pleasurable to mine ear. My favorites out of this rock solid tracklist are "Someday," "The Other Side, Welcome," "Broken Mirrors" (which is a big rape survivor anthem), "Playbill$," and "Curtain Call." But you could convince me that any of the others are what should be my new favorites--they're all so good. I am thoroughly eager to see where Ruby may go next, what big step forward sonically that she takes. She hasn't done a full-length LP since C91, but I'm down for whatever comes next. Circa91 gets a 10/10.
Masterpiece
Summary:
Circa91 is a scathing, taut listen that is so personal and profound, you'll at least learn something listening to it.
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