The New York rapper Cardi B’s new album begins with a news announcement that she has been accused of a crime spree, following the brutal killings of “bloggers, journalists and, most chillingly, several female rappers”. Putting aside the question of why the murders of female rappers are more chilling than those of bloggers and journalists, the announcement leads into Dead, an ominous rap on which the former stripper, reality TV star and larger-than-life personality makes it clear that it is the female rappers she’s really saving her wrath for. “I’m collecting body bags like they purses,” she announces, after the R&B star Summer Walker proclaims all kinds of threats in oddly sweet tones. “I don’t even rap no more, I drive hearses. Bitches got some nerve and then be nervous,” the rapper continues. It all adds up to a singular statement: Cardi B is back and she is only too happy to down anyone who gets in her way.

It has been seven years since the woman born Belcalis Almánzar crashed out of Washington Heights, the New York City neighbourhood, and into the heart of hip-hop life with her debut album, Invasion of Privacy. Its long-awaited follow-up drills down into the things about her that made such an impact in the first place: a campy persona, aggressive and/or outrageously explicit raps about how great she is and how terrible everyone else is, and a sense of humour underpinning it all.

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At 23 tracks, Am I the Drama? is far too long, while the inclusion of the 2020 hit WAP is a cynical ploy to boost the streaming numbers — and there are only so many times you can hear playground taunts set against drill and trap beats. But like RuPaul’s Drag Race, from which the album’s title is borrowed, this isn’t meant to be deep and meaningful. It is all about the performance. And the sheer dazzle of superego on display brings its own reward.

Hello is not, sadly, a cover version of the beery anthem that Oasis have been opening their reunion concerts with. “It be me just lookin’ perfect, head to toe. It be you out here, just lookin’ regular ho,” she brags. Much of the album continues in that vein, with Cardi B finding various ways of saying the same thing, but she does it with wit and style. “If you did my numbers, y’all would pop champagne. If I did your numbers, I would hop out a plane,” she raps over a breezy Seventies soul sample on Imaginary Playerz, which, with its references to designer labels and fan page controversies, is almost certainly a blast at arch rival Nicki Minaj.

Here and there she does go beyond the braggadocio for something more revealing. What’s Goin On features Lizzo belting out the chorus of What’s Up?, the massive Nineties hit by 4 Non Blondes, for a tale of how Cardi’s marriage to the rapper Offset fell apart. He “stopped callin’ … wasn’t wakin’ up to me in the morning … anniversary gifts started lackin’ …” There is real pathos in here. Likewise with Shower Tears, another hook-up with Walker, in which hurt and defiance battle it out over a lazy R&B backing. “I put my baby in her car seat and be out of here,” she declares, before announcing that she thought she and Offset would be together for the rest of their lives. There are stylistic variations too: the frenetic New Orleans bounce of Outside, the syrupy pop of the Selena Gomez collaboration Pick It Up, the bright salsa touches of Bodega Baddie.

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In the main, though, this 70-minute marathon is a sign of the times. Great rappers like Cardi B no longer want to make great albums. Instead they want to force domination over their peers by putting a vast tranche of material out there all at once, and use collaborations to pull in listeners from other genres, to guarantee maximum streaming numbers. Cut out half the tracks here — by the time we get to Killin You Hoes, Cardi has made her intentions clear — and you have a seriously good album. In the event, Am I the Drama? is an overload of material from which fans will pick out the best songs and stick them on their own playlists. In that sense Cardi B simply understands how music consumption works in the 21st century.
(Atlantic)
★★★☆☆