Grant JonesFloridian rapper Doechii is one of the year’s hottest artists, making headlines with a successful rollout of her mixtape “Alligator Bites Never Heal”, which was nominated for a Grammy. This was a bit of a surprise, considering the Grammy’s are usually dominated by chart-topping rappers and an almost guaranteed Eminem nomination, but here we have a new, interesting artist. It’s quite refreshing, although no doubt influenced by her signing to Kendrick Lamar’s label Top Dawg Entertainment. The album is solid, but it’s not something I’d put above Common or Rapsody’s efforts. It does show some incredible potential and possible indicators of a future star. The hype is understandable, although after listening to “Alligator Bites Never Heal” for the last few weeks, I think her style is more in line to the poppier Doja Cat, than a traditional emcee like Rapsody. There’s a lot of versatility on display, but it does ultimately create a lopsided album. Sorry, “mixtape”.
At 19 songs, it’s oddly overlong for a TDE project and the middle section does feel like it dips in quality. The first five songs are so electric that they stand above the rest, and I think this is what has garnered the attention (and a Grammy nomination) – the strength of that first ten minutes alone illustrates the talent that we’re dealing with here. It’s something I wish she had maintained, but the middle of the album drifts into modern R&B, which is fine, but it shaves off the interesting edges that lend Doechii her appeal. “HUH!” sounds like Doja Cat slipped into the algorithm unnoticed, and “Slide” may as well be a different artist from a different album.
“Boiled Peanuts” is my favourite track. The performance is bordering on mimicry of early Busta Rhymes (or modern Coast Contra, depending on your age), yet it’s a style so rarely explored by women without pandering to horny teens. The influence of Nicki Minaj is evident on the hook, along with maniacal laughing injecting some chaos into a commanding, albeit brief set of rhymes:
“2910 East Genesee Street
Where n****s mix weed with they nicotine treats
I wish I had a soda and a dime piece speech
So I could just kick back and sip my lime in peace
Easy, breezy, beautiful, erratic
Scatter-minded, manic, borderline addict
I try to take the sober route and end up on a dead end
Now everything I joke about just ends up on a Reddit
Gator skin coat, Florida heat no joke
Feel like the Tiger King, these bitches want mo’ Joe
Leo, the sun sign, I’m sippin’ a Cosmo
Make money like pronto, and Gucci my poncho
Ain’t no rain or paint on me
N****s wettin’ up the block, but ain’t a stain on me
Label always up my ass like anal beads
Why can’t all these label n****s just let me be?
Let me breathe, n****s want me R.I.P.
I been resting with my piece and that’s the irony
I’m a dying sunflower leaving a trail of seeds
In the 8-1-3, this my legacy”
The first two songs, “Stankah Pooh” and “Bullfrog” are strong performances despite the childish one-liners, particularly on the former. The latter track is more convincing, and a style that succeeds more than all the other ones on offer. Production sits snugly between the fist-clenching aura of Kanye West, and the fist-raising pro-blackness of Little Simz, it’s a shame the rest of the album isn’t on this vibe.
Iconic underground track “Word Association” from Boston duo 7L & Esoteric, which re-enacts a therapy session, is updated and made more personal on the characterful “Denial Is A River”, designed to give new listeners an introduction to Doechii’s recent history. It promptly descends into animated chaos by the end, with a fun breath control exercise highlighting her knack for crafting catchy off-the-cuff moments. This is carried into “Catfish”, more obvious with its Busta Rhymes mimicry as Doechii integrates 1996’s classic “Woo-Hah Got You All In Check” into the hook. The beat is wonderfully dark, and the second verse is gradually more grimy the longer it goes on, but if you’re a Busta fan, it might be a bit too much.
It’s these examples of free-flowing, characterful displays of rap that I wished there were more of, as the rest of the record starts to unravel. The accurately named “Skipp” guides the listener into a sticky, trippy set of songs that are designed to showcase Doechii’s versatility and vocal range, but it kills the momentum. This isn’t strictly a negative experience, with “Wait” an excellent example of Doechii’s vocal talents. The hook is so good, it’ll be stuck in your head for days.
When Doechii wants to get raw, she isn’t afraid to paint pictures with her choice of words. “Black bitch, purple c**t” she states, in the sexually explicit verses behind “Nissan Altima”, and while it’s a captivating listen for the sexual imagery she outlines, it’s the way she delivers her rhymes with such accuracy, eloquence and flawless tongue-twisting flow, that makes me want to listen to it again. Doechii attributes the chaotic side of her personality to growing up in Florida, which has garnered an infamous reputation around the world for its eccentricities and “interesting” residents, but being a hyperactive child with access to nature and the countryside has given her style more depth and style than the usual woman from the ‘hood that talks about her vagina so matter-of-factly.
If the Busta Rhymes impressions were too much, there’s a Ludacris riff on “GTFO” that lacks any of the charm of his original “Move”. She poo-poos rappity rap on “Boom Bap”, but it’s as aimless as any boom bap song banging on about bringing boom bap back. She can clearly rap well, but if critics are attacking the lack of “bars“, this song doesn’t help her argument because it’s reminiscent of Dipset, with the chipmunk-soul instrumental and rhyming every bar with the same word. The anger is understandable, but the rhymes do leave a little to be desired.
The first five songs on “Alligator Bites Never Heal” are excellent, and raised my expectations immeasurably, so the inevitable drop-off that happens left me feeling disappointed more than I probably should have. At forty-seven minutes in length, the decision to populate that time with two-minute songs that end before they get started makes it feel like a longer listening experience, and the shift from aggressive rap into smoother, harmonizing efforts breaks the momentum that’s built at the start. The talent is undeniable, and the potential for a future classic is clear, but at this point, “Alligator Bites Never Heal” makes sense as a mixtape designed to showcase a star in the making, even if some of the bites of famous rappers may feel a bit on the nose for long-term listeners.