The world of rap music seems to be a bit of a boys club, so it’s refreshing to see Class A breaking the mould. With her debut album Me, Me, Me & Him: The Secret Life of a Receptionist she looks to redefine what we think about rap music with an originality that goes beyond her gender.
I must admit, I don’t listen to a lot of rap music. I catch the occasional song on Video Hits or Rage, but it’s never really been my thing. In listening to this album, I’ve realised that perhaps my resistant has stemmed from my inability to relate. Rap has always been music that expressed the frustration and anger of the artist at the world around them, but I don’t know the first thing about life in the ghetto or the struggles faced by black men. I’m a white girl from suburban Newcastle after all.
This is what I love most about the songs of Class A. Her problems may not be as large as those faced by black rappers, but they come from a very real place. I’m sure most of us understand the frustrations of office life expressed in “Work” and the feelings of lust aroused by the delivery boy in “Milkman.” The songs aren’t life-changing epics, but they’re genuine and quirky, and that makes them incredibly appealing.
As a rap newcomer, I also appreciated the ease with which Class A blended genres. The soulful vocals of Rachael Berry brought another dimension to “Break It Down” and I loved the big band elements of “You Drive.”
Australian rap has had a hard time carving out its own identity, but with acts like Class A I think the scene is getting there. She just does what she does; it doesn’t feel affected and there’s not a hint of cultural cringe. The novelty factor of a female rapper may draw you in, but her songs are of such quality that I think you’ll be pleasantly surprised.
