New Music By BbyMutha, Tallawit Timbouctou
BbyMutha
BbyShoe
(SmokeOuts)
Chattanooga rapper BbyMutha took her name by reclaiming an insult, originally lobbed from a jealous corner in a love triangle; the mother of four children (two sets of twins), her motherhood isn’t a shtick—it’s her life, intertwined (but not exactly balanced) with everything else, including music, fashion and sex—and don’t expect her to rap about dirty diapers.
Living in the moment, she’s a person who sees motherhood not as a burden but as freedom; with fans and haters who are both equally passionate, she is way past the point of caring what people think of her as a single mother, a deliriously colorful fashion icon or a rapper.
BbyMutha’s new EP BbyShoe, co-created with $hoey, arrives at a time when national attention is percolating, as she’s played overseas shows and relatively high-profile gigs, like one recently at South By Southwest. Her rapping style typically features a constant 1-2-1-2 staccato bounce with a relaxed swagger, on and off the beat, and the proceedings can swing violently. Examples include the giggly conversation “MOM and Kids” and “D.O.T.D.” which begins with a disarming sample of a kid saying, “Mommy you’re so cute” before things get coarse and complicated; among her withering male-targeted insults are moments of insight (“See these niggas only love you when you happy”), and then she turns on a dime with ruthless barbs.
Guest rappers include Michael Da Vinci on “Ungrateful,” with its tickling beatbox taps and atmospheric synth backgrounds, and Rico Nasty on “Lately,” who retorts “She hate on my music but she still sing along.”
“BBC” references a Vine with the line “I’m a bad bitch nigga, you can’t kill me” that offers a ton of posturing but also venting, as if they can be interchangeable attitudes. BbyShoe is the product of a self-aware artist, asserting control and enjoying the freedom not just in music but everything else woven into her life.
Tallawit Timbouctou
Takamba WhatsApp
(Sahel Sounds)
From Timbuktu to here, the new release Takamba WhatsApp was recorded by the trio Tallawit Timbouctou (an alternate spelling of “Timbuktu”) in that West African city in Mali, with a mythical reputation for being distant and exotic.
However, it doesn’t seem so distant when considering that Takamba WhatsApp was recorded on March 28 on a mobile phone and sent to Sahel Sounds founder Christopher Kirkley in Portland, Ore., using the app WhatsApp, and released that very same day to the entire world on Bandcamp in its unmastered form.
With all proceeds from the digital release going to the musicians, Kirkley called this expeditiousness “World Music 2.0” and even suggested that “it’s probably best listened to on a cellphone”—which hearkens back to the Sahel Sounds compilation Music from Saharan Cellphones which culled tracks that were passed around from phone to phone in West Africa.
On the release’s second long track, a digital chime can be heard, perhaps from a phone app notification, as an unintentional reminder of technology’s role.
The band leader of Tallawit Timbouctou is Agali Ag Amoumine, who plays the terhardent, a lute-like instrument (similar to the ngoni), alongside bandmate Oumar Kane on a bass terhardent; notes swirl about swiftly in scale patterns with urgency and excitement, evoking a vitality and spontaneity while never going off the track. Rounding out the trio is Ibrahim Dicko playing a calabash, providing deceptive rhythms with his clicks and clacks; it’s deceptive, because the rhythmic momentum is consistent while the individual beats have constant variations. His sharp click sounds are made by striking the calabash with rings worn on his fingers, while lower beats (the equivalent of bass drum hits) come from palm hits.
The style of music played is takamba, which is typically accompanied by dancing and was popular at festivals and weddings before being eclipsed by the current electric-guitar-driven style.
One characteristic of takamba is the typically constant self-referential narration using shout-outs to the people who are present, documenting what is going on at that moment, and indeed, having a recording being made and released to the world within a single day is true to the immediate spirit of takamba.