I’m not saying this is a great musical composition by any stretch of the imagination, but damn if there’s not a moment around :25 toward the beginning of this track from Iggy Azalea, rap game Betty Draper, where the slowly unfolding synths and trap beat starts to escalate on some siren climax build, her vocals pick up in tempo in attack, and it seems like everything is going to crash into a ditch — no way this is all going to work together, you think — where it actually inspired a moment of musical excitement in my calcified heart.
One of the only remaining joys for the voracious consumer of media, be it in film, television, or literature, is when you can honestly say “I have no idea what’s going to happen next.” Competency, even in its extreme, is banal; surprise is all we have left. Better to be average and interesting than brilliant and boring. That’s the case here. I’m not sure I’m going to like where it goes, but I’m definitely going to stick around to find out.
And then just as it reaches a hyped up electro-trap throb, our cheeks flush with confusion and anticipation, it slows back down into a languorous, draping beat that contrasts with Ig’s coming hard. It’s a fucking mess in the best possible way, and I think it might’ve, at least for the course of two clipped minutes, made me excited about stupid internet rap again for the first time in months. (via Noisey)