Ray BLK - Empress

Ray BLK - Empress

To those familiar with the constant high standard of Rita Ekwere aka Ray BLK, the title of her 8-track mini album is no hyperbole. The London based R&B singer/rapper is known for her empowering themes, profound and gritty lyricism and a penchant for the grandiose. Taking the ordinary and elevating it with a voice that glows with agency, Empress is the latest impressive outing for the performer.

Bringing her home and social politics to the forefront, Empress is immense in scale for its size. Dealing with gang violence, nightlife, crime, love and London life, BLK sets herself apart from her contemporaries by dealing in humans instead of possessions, and in advertising her faults as well as strengths. For instance, while the lust soaked R&B banger Girl Like Me and the swaggeringly fierce Get My Own have lives of their own, soul popper Don’t Beg is a desperate letter to herself demanding self-improvement. The emotional horizons of Empress are expansive and engrossing, with Ekwere weaving believable tales of hardship and love throughout.

While listening, however, I found myself drawn back to opener Run Run after every second song or so, as it is utterly magnetic. Supported by a backbone of faintly tropical, almost dancehall beats, the lead single is an impassioned plea for peace, freedom and justice while also serving as a critical observation on the life of a minority and criminal activity in London (“Run run… if you wanna see the sun, we don’t want to lose another one”). Run... sees BLK expertly narrate the life of one ‘Johnny,’ an individual with ‘a burner and an attitude.’ Following two days in his life, one involving a late night fight and the other a stakeout before a mugging, Ekwere pleads for Johnny to examine his life(“Whatchu gonna do, where you gonna run when you see those flashing lights… Watch gonna do, where you gonna run, when your life flashes before your eyes…”) and strive for change before it's too late. As one listens to Run... it is hard to remain unstruck by the genuine ache and sorrow in BLK's words. It sounds too descriptive to be entirely fictional.

As the last verse begins, the beat quickly fades out and is replaced by the unmistakable shrill of a police siren, followed by the audible click of a handguns safety being removed. I’ve listened to this song upwards of fifteen times now and I still get goosebumps.

Therein lies BLK’s greatest strength, the ability to elicit extreme reactions from her music, even after multiple listens. Indeed, while Run Run is her most political on Empress, it is far and away her best, sitting atop her discography pedestal alongside her intense urban anthem My Hood. Her skill in inspiring physical reactions and painting emotive, realistic and (frankly) scary pictures is a rare one and I for one am glad not to see it wasted.

 One of the most interesting voices in London, with vocals that could belong wither atop the charts or leading a choir, Ray BLK continues to impress and improve with Empress. Sodden with personality, grit and a confident bounce that money can’t buy, this is an album for people who need a soundtrack while they conquer the world.