Review: Wara from the NBHD - If Guns Could Speak EP
By Xavier Veccia, Managing Editor
[Playin Four Keeps; 2015]
Rating: 7.5/10
Key Tracks: “Surrounded by Criminals,” “Shotclock,” “Cold-play”
If Guns Could Speak, the latest release from Atlanta-by-way-of-Brooklyn rapper Wara from the NBHD, is awkward. It’s uncomfortable and controversial and everything that most professionals try to avoid for fear of ruffling too many feathers. But for Wara, this is art.
In an interview with Creative Loafing, Wara said, "Art is supposed to be the thing that makes people uncomfortable, raises the questions; it's supposed to be controversial.” So, we must embrace the awkward to appreciate If Guns Could Speak, just like Wara embraced it in order to make the EP.
When we last saw Wara, he released the critically-acclaimed Kidnapped. A complete project by anyone’s measurements, it was easy to get swept up in the hype for the amateur rapper. Wara didn’t keep his new fans waiting too long, releasing If Guns Could Speak just five months later. Building on the storytelling techniques and fluidity of Kidnapped, Wara adds some juiced-up production that matches the dangerous subject matter.
The project begins with a bang (pun entirely intended) on “Shotclock,” an origin story of sorts detailing the central character’s path to firearms. Heavy synths and subtle drums set the mood well before Wara utters the line, “My mommy don’t know about my side money, thinking I’m straight for it.” The first verse goes in depth on the character’s upbringing; The second verse provides a final answer to how he finally got involved. “When they killed my n**** Mike, I got strapped in a hurry / I might die tonight, but I doubt I’m even worried.”
The third verse, though, is probably the best, tying in the, “We on the shotclock,” chorus to the character’s upbringings as he stands in front of his victim on a basketball court (“Dead n**** try and guard me now”) before walking away with the sole thought of, “What my mom don’t know: her baby boy on the gun now.”
Within the first song, we get a captivating three-act short story that ends with one more chorus and a soulful beat to lead into the rest of the project. And that’s not even the best song.
That honor belongs to the psychotic “Surrounded By Criminals.” The beat is comprised mostly of ominous guitars while the chorus features vocal distortion to back-up Wara’s vocal with screams of terror. The whole ambiance gives off this feeling of entrapment, which is exactly what Wara speaks about with his bars. “‘Round here the only policy is protect your neck,” he spits, before reflecting on the fact his mom wouldn’t be able to afford his funeral if he died right now.
One of the biggest strengths of If Guns Could Speak is its complete nature. The album feels as if it was meticulously put together. One such example is the heart-broken love song “Cold-play,” placed right after the climax found in “Surrounded By Criminals.” Pulling a straight 808s & Heartbreak, Wara dons heavy autotune and a slower, power ballad-esque beat. By the time he delivers the line, “You know pressure breaks p**** n*****s / Guns come before clips / You could try to bite the bullet / You could never pull shit,” the listener is already feeling Wara’s pain.
It’s worth noting that, as an artist, Wara’s still pretty young. His rhymes are sometimes barely above average while his flow is a bit rushed at times. However, it’s easy to learn how to rhyme better when you’re as gifted of a storyteller as Wara.
If Guns Could Speak proves that Wara’s definition of art is valid, as he turns the uncomfortable nature of his story into something simultaneously relatable and captivating. His simplicity when it comes to lyrics layered with the complexity of the controversy is something few artists could pull off, but Wara turns it into a masterpiece.
