Listed: Sahbabii's 'Barnacles'
Packs Shipment No. 13.
List season is just around the bend, and major publications are going to start naming their album of the year candidates and releasing their rankings. Some amazing albums are going to get left of these prestigious lists and it’ll be a tragedy. So for the next few weeks, I’m focusing on a few albums that need to be Listed on these end-of-the-year lists and why they deserve to be there.
The year is 2019, the world is normal, and you’re sitting in a waiting room for a massage or manicure or something. The lighting is dim, warm, and relaxing; the couch underneath you is so soft it feels like the cushions hold you when you sit. Gun magazines are neatly spread on the coffee table, and lush plants surround you at every turn. Suddenly, a dreamy, melodic beat creeps through the waiting room speakers adorned on the wall, growing louder by the seconds. When the beat crescendos, a simple line defines the mood: “I’m in seven cars with 11 bitches.”
That is “711,” one of the many highlights from Sahbabii’s “Barnacles.” The album, which dropped earlier this summer, is his latest drop of unique and captivating music expanded over 16 different tracks. With only three projects from the 23-year old Atlanta artist, “Barnacles” is not only the highlight of his career but a highlight for rap in 2020, deserving a spot on every year-end rap list worth a damn.
No one is making music that sounds like Sahababii. The sounds and styles are something out of this world and easily ahead of its time.
The quick-hit “100 Round Drum” is an easy example. I recently had an hour and 45-minute flight from Atlanta to Philadelphia. For flights, I keep a playlist of around 160 songs downloaded on Tidal. I couldn't help but play “100 Round Drum” the entire plane ride on repeat. Sah melts and warps his voice for the chorus until it's barely distinguishable, then flips it and delivers his verses quickly, high-pitched . The knocking bass teamed with the relaxing, simple beat somehow works. It calmed my nerves as I soared 30,000 feet in the air.
I’d be remiss If I didn’t mention Purple Umbrella—another beautiful beat that feels like running through an open field with a Glock in one hand and a picnic basket in another. Sah floats, switching flows and tones at will to create an experience instead of just a song. Oh, but I can’t forget Geico, another spacey beat that Sahbabii raps through at warp-speed with the same strap and sex raps.
And since we’re here, let’s talk about “Poppin Shit.” Soft piano keys gently guide you to a more up-tempo pace that’s busting at the brim with murderous rap bars (“Red dots on they face, look like that boy got acne”). Songs like “Poppin Shit” could be more abundant, as the slower tempo songs like “711” or “Purple Umbrella” dominate the majority of “Barnacles”’s offering. That might be my only complaint about the album.
Pitchfork and Paste reviews of the album decided to focus on the overall horniness of it all, like when Sah compared the big booty women in his life to Giraffes and Elephants or lines like “That pussy gooey like some deviled eggs” on “Tongue Demon.” I respect both of the writers of those reviews a lot, by the way. They aren’t wrong on focusing on the sometimes overly-sexual content covered in “Barnacles.” What would be wrong is to let one bullet point define what this album really is: a creative and genuinely unique sonic adventure that 2020 needed.
I seriously doubt “Barnacles” cracks a top 20 rap album of the year list, but it should. The horniest rap album of the year of quarantine deserves accolades, especially one laden with mesmerizing sounds, lyrics, and styles.
Welp, hope y’all enjoyed this edition of Packs. We back next Friday with a new delivery.
Between Packs, follow me on all the socials: @Tribecalledni on damn-near everything.
Until next time, be cool.