Gita – Escaping The Dream World
Self-released: 2013
While watching a couple of Gita’s videos and scrolling through the numerous photos of her strewn across the Internet, I got slightly confused. Her bubblegum-pink hair, coarse, bristly eyebrows, pastel skin, overly involved clothing and wide eyes struck an unnerving parallel to Grimes, the “post-Internet” artist of Visions fame. I jokingly tweeted about it and continued with my day. But then Gita tweeted me back.
“she’s a fairy I’m a goblin #BigDiff,” she replied, explaining the differences in oblique terms that only made the discernment less clear. But I thank her for the clarification; although Gita has been nominally active as a rapper since 2011, the year she dropped her single “Hood Rich,” she has not pierced into the general rap zeitgeist as bubbly, confident Internet-based artists (RiFF RAFF, Kreayshawn, Lil B, any artist who frequents a mention on Noisey) are wont to do, so it make sense that she’s so open to reaching out to those expressing interest. Despite that, though, each song the “The Duchess” drops may not “bomb atomically” lyrically, it usually comes with more than enough personality and always comes with a bewilderingly fun video.
Those inclusions are much-needed, seeing as before Gita released her debut EP, Escaping The Dream World, there were only four songs floating around the net, a record shortage in today’s musical climate. Her story is even more hush-hush, but the details that have surfaced lend much understanding to her mannerisms: She was born in raised in Bay Area, Cali., a region that’s spawned many a rapper with neon, funk-influenced production and fun party-oriented rhymes, and she moved to New York, the gritty birthplace of hip hop that just learned how to have fun through A$AP Rocky, and whose rappers indulge in rigid, monotone flows and serious, propulsive beats.
Gita presents the best elements of both environments on Escaping The Dream World, dropping lines in a brisk and punchy, slightly off-beat staccato reminiscent of Tupac’s own cadence over Prismacolor-rich beats provided by producers such as Brandun DeShay, DJ Two Stacks and Darq E. Freaker. She’s pegged as a post-Internet rapper, but listening to her music for the first time does not mean a dive into Versace tiger skin speedos or the rhyming of “choppa” with “choppa”: in fact, you might not comprehend a single lick due to how she confidently bucks every other syllable into existence. On “Kaviar, Yachts” she spits: “I’m the leader, who you following? Been too many gangsta corporate party scenes/ since 16 never had dirty bags, trim/ seeds, handed to me no dirty bitches chill’n in my VIP,” but it might sound like “SEEDS… ME… MY VIP” until she gets to the hook. It’s a detriment to the nascent listener, but much like repeated listens of El-P, the mind eventually begins to keep up with what the rapper dishes out.
Beyond that, though, is an artist who consciously puts good songs together. Gita’s lyrics are largely based on her stream-of-consciousness, but what she pulls out of that lingual soup blends in an eccentric flair without letting the resulting track seem cartoonish. A huge factor remains her jabbing flow, but her vocal inflection is just as important. When employed properly, Gita can turn otherwise bland rhymes into a fresh affair. She works marvels on “Hood Rich” and “Mardi Gras” in this regard, fluidly lowering and raising her emphasis on words like German-engineered hydralics.
When the rhymes are worth mentioning, its due to their ear-catching, near-memetic phrasing that makes lines like “that shit cray” transcend from hip hop minutiae to everyday slang. Rhymes like “Never see me running, always see me coming,” “switchin’ the tempo up on you bimbos” and “let that hoe go” are literally designed to be chanted loud at concerts or in gatherings with friends, but they’re just close enough on the side of a naturally occurring phrase to slip into daily verbage. Both of these traits combine often, specifically turning the too-short “Raising Pulses (Blabbity Blab, Blab)” into an audible amusement park ride, as she smoothly turns from sweet to spunky in the space of one bar: “I super super nice, you super super a’ight/ won’t front, you’s a bum, yo shit is done HUN.”
Gita is fine on her own, but she probably would not have garnered as much attention as she has if not for those banging beats. Escaping The Dream World’s production is glossy, fluorescent, and infectious, a counterpoint to Gita’s usually rough expressions that fits her as well as salty peanuts complement caramel: “Kaviar, Yachts” is backdropped by an ethereal soul sample stretched over slow, elegant drums; “Benjii’s” production, composed of surging synths, rapid-fire snares and distant vocal blips, would fit Enya’s first attempt at rapping; “Hood Rich” sounds the cheapest but still serves its purpose with synths that sashay from side to side in a hypnotic groove.
The two best beats come one after the other, a smart bit of track sequencing: An icy landscape of grimy basslines, tinkling piano, and MPC drums brought forth “Let That”, one of Gita’s more pronounced vocal performances and certainly one where she has tons of fun, and “Mardi Gras”, an undeniable monster of a track, is constructed of a deceitful calypso rhythm drowned in three different clap samples, an oily synth and cartoonishly huge bass booms. I’m honestly surprised that the video for the song didn’t comprise of a stadium full of well-endowed women twerking mercilessly; it’s a sorely missed opportunity.
Escaping The Dream World is a listen for those into rap’s weirder proclivities without having to really dumb it down to enjoy what the EP has to offer. It is somewhat surreal, not manic and coke-addled. A 22-minute ride with only one dud, the last track, the EP’s a wonderful feat for Gita, an artist who’s taken the Bay Area’s loveable sleaze and charm, the dogged rigidity of the East Coast and the all-encompassing grace of being based mainly on the Internet and compiled in a way that deservedly feels referential, but does not equal blatant mimicry. I still don’t get how she’s a goblin, though, but if that means she creates a track better than “Mardi Gras” in the future, I’m not complaining.
3.5 out of 5