Considering how
Tierra Whack wowed listeners with
Whack World -- an EP so full of ideas and feelings that its minute-long songs could barely contain them -- it's no surprise fans wanted a full-length from her as soon as possible. However,
Whack continued to defy expectations, and the string of singles and EPs she issued in the following years solidified her expertise with short-form releases while cranking up the anticipation for her first proper album. As she balances
Whack World's audaciousness with the more expansive songwriting of releases like the
Pop? Rap? and
R&B? EPs,
WORLD WIDE WHACK does indeed feel like an official debut. Like all of her music, it's packed with inventive productions and dizzying wordplay. "Ms Behave" has both these qualities in abundance, with
Whack name-checking
Angela Bassett and
OutKast over gurgling electro toms and a bassline so massive it has its own gravitational field. Though
WORLD WIDE WHACK is more polished and direct than any of her previous work, she doesn't straighten out her music too much while she threads the needle between individuality and accessibility. Economy remains one of her greatest strengths, and the sculpted, vivid sounds behind her are as witty and versatile as she is. On "Chanel Pit," it sounds like she's backed by a xylophone and a woodpecker; on "X," her worst wishes for an old flame are bolstered by a martial beat with a punk edge. Her gift for nimble, slice-of-life songwriting still shines, particularly on the bubbly funk of "Shower Song," a hopeful celebration of music's rejuvenating powers, and "Moovies," an enchantingly feather-light slice of romantic R&B,
Tierra Whack-style. The joy radiating from these songs feels all the purer compared to the pain lurking on the rest of the album.
Whack uses
WORLD WIDE WHACK's longer length to go deeper into the melancholy of
Whack World songs like "Waze" and "Sore Loser" with deeply moving results. Sometimes, she leavens the mood a bit, as when she almost disguises the deep loneliness of "Imaginary Friends" with rubbery guitars and childlike vocals or indulges in some gallows humor on "Two Night" ("But before I go/Want to let you know/Didn't pay the light bill this month"). Elsewhere, she lays her feelings bare, as on the bruised "Difficult" and the gutting closing track "27 Club," where she relates her despair over a melody that flows like tears. Whichever approach she takes, the stylization of her music heightens its emotional honesty. Six years after
Whack World,
Whack has only grown more accomplished at contrasting brightly colored surfaces and what lies beneath them. ~ Heather Phares