Raven by Kelela | Album Review
R&B meets house in this Pitchfork’s Best New Music selection
I don’t even know if this review can do this project its due justice. I’m new to the Kelela fandom, Raven being my introduction to the artist. Perhaps because of her hiatus since her debut album, Take Me Apart, over 5 years ago now. The emergence of house music into the mainstream over the past couple of years has been, as the genre suggests, exhilarating and seems to be embraced with hesitant yet curious ears.
For a generation whose music is influenced yet so different than the music that came before it, there are still gems that stick out and aim to define a decade — and they usually have a common theme: traveling outside the status quo of the contemporary music scene, often reinventing or showcasing the evolution of its musical predecessors. Some names that come to mind are Redveil using early 2000’s-2010's rap culture, jazz influence and sampling techniques, JID reigniting ATL rap, Drake and Beyonce putting house-influenced albums on the biggest stage, and the power players of hyperpop riffing disco and dance-pop.
For Kelela, since she belongs to that older generation that houses R&B power balladists and superstars, she is a direct product of it. And while it would be typical to replicate and produce the music that defines the generation you identify with, the product often falls short with the posthaste trending culture while also sounding dated. What makes Raven an early contender for album of the year is its ability to adapt an age old message of isolation, love and lust, and vulnerability and transform its appeal through a perfectionist vocal delivery with hints of melancholy, and oppositely, hope, as she glides and dices through high BPM tracks with precision.
In order to be recognized, Kelela must speak much louder to be heard, to break through the hodge-podge of mediocrity to achieve the same respect as other artist in the same genre. Thus, the struggle of black women, in particular hyper-sexualization, as seen through tracks like “Sorbet” and “Contact,” becomes the focal point in delivering an autonomous and independent message of sex as both a selling point and coping mechanism. Reilluminating the core, its black origins, of the house genre itself is a major point of Raven, says Kelela in a press release:
“I started this process from the feeling of isolation and alienation I’ve always had as a black femme in dance music, despite its black origins. RAVEN is my first breath taken in the dark, an affirmation of black femme perspective in the midst of systemic erasure and the sound of our vulnerability turned to power”
That power seeps through the tracks, growing intricate foliage of empowerment and acceptance, clearing a path for the next generation of artist to walk along and improve upon, to only prune the ugly parts of the industry rather than hacking away with a machete. Seeing black women in genres dominated by white men is beautiful, yet unnecessarily difficult. Artist like Fousheé with her punk pop album, softCORE, Willow with her alternative rock album, Copingmechanism, and even folks like The War and Treaty, continue to break barriers in genres that their ancestors directly influenced yet were not openly welcomed. Kelela’s Raven confronts 2023 with anticipation of both personal and generational change.
I fall more in love with this album the more I listen to it. The harmonization, melodies, the subtle house production all culminate into my favorite project so far this year. There aren’t any major detractors as Kelela captures her sound perfectly while mixing up her sound, speeding up or slowing down, seemingly at the perfect times throughout the album. Raven bares the soul of a woman whose voice has been repressed, and the emotions spill out through the performance, causing a soft sway to turn into a rave at times.
Rating: 9.2/10
Favorite Tracks: Contact, Sorbet, Washed Away
