With the release of her debut album, the young hip hop artist seeks to empower those who can relate to her troubles.
WORDS BY KENDRICK GO
H ip hop artist Búeni tends to discuss her own loneliness to make people feel less alone.
Her pursuit of this endeavor can be perceived through her music. She’s had her fair share of socially isolating hardships, she said, and whenever she talks about them through her songs, she hopes to be a remote companion to some members of her audience—people who understand while being in need of understanding.
“I will work so hard on building my platform,” she promised, and it’s all for a singular goal: “to be a voice to every person going through a rough patch in their lives.”
This is a tall order by most standards but she appears undaunted by it. This week, after all, Búeni will be at Catch 272 to unveil more of herself. At an event hosted by Not Bad, she will launch her debut album entitled “Confessions of a Lonely Mind.”
“I’ve been thinking about doing it for so long,” she said. “Surprisingly I woke up one morning, feeling motivated and excited to voice out who I am, what I went through and how I overcame it.”
Covering around 40-minutes, “Confessions” looks into depth of Búeni’s character as rendered by her precocious (and at times tumultuous) teen years. In the bilingual diss track “Beneath the Surface,” she goes from ice cold to flaming hot as she puts a “stupid motherfucker” in his place for not recognizing her autonomy. In “Socially Not Prepared,” meanwhile, she turns the focus on her own difficulties as part of an urban ecosystem. And then there’s “Last Minute Joint,” a jazzy exploration of purpose and happiness that segues to brief spurts of self-affirmation; it is a slowed-down track that may remind listeners of those inebriated honesties people tend to engage in deep into a drinking session.
“As soon as the album drops, you’ll notice a lack of experience in mixing and mastering the tracks, because, I’m the only one arranging, editing and recording every song in my album that only features me,” she said. “It really pressured [me] and made things hard for me than the actual process of writing a piece.” Nevertheless, it has its strengths. For one, a seemingly adventurous nature that blurs genre lines and prevents the end product from being tedious. Another plus side is the girl’s capacity as a rapper and trained singer, equally capable of sharing sweet nothings before threatening to put “you” in a sack to be disposed of in emphatic fashion.
More importantly, “Confessions” does exactly what its name suggests. It unveils herself to a world that might contain people who’d enjoy her company; an exploration of “lonely mind” hoping to make others feel less alone.