No disrespect to Chance the Rapper, but last yearâs most anticipated Chicago hip-hop release was not Coloring Book, but Telefone, the full-length debut from the relatively obscure and obscurely named Noname.
Hailing from Bronzevilleâthe Southside neighborhood celebrated by poet Gwendolyn BrooksâNoname (born Fatimah Warner) came up in Chicagoâs open mic and slam poetry scene. She applies that same aesthetic to her rap style, a mix of spoken word and offbeat lyrics. Noname made her first official appearance as an emcee in 2013, contributing a verse to the track âLostâ on Chanceâs Acid Rap mixtape, and the following year with a verse on Mick Jenkinsâ The Waters mixtape.
After promising to release her own record for the better part of three years, Noname finally dropped Telefone last July. Rather than the big production and tabernacle-sized choruses of Coloring Book, Telefone sounds like a quiet night kicking it with your best homie, smoking weed and talking until sunrise. Her delivery doesnât always fall on time, but jumps around as if playing verbal double dutch.
Over jazzy, laidback beats, Noname waxes on topics both serious (identity, black womanhood, violence against African Americans) and light (relationships, ice cream on the front porch, âonly wearing tennis shoes to clubs with dress codes, âcause fuck they clubsâ). While her Windy City contemporaries are falling all over themselves climbing that long ladder to success, Noname has been busy in the kitchen, discreetly cooking up a classic.