Review: Iggy Azalea's "Glory"

Iggy's debut album "The New Classic" is still on its way, but for now our ears are satisfied, and our playlists graced with a tight sextuplet EP.

BYJon Godfrey
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Thanks to emcees like Iggy Azalea, the female rapper has clawed its way off of the endangered species list.  The Australian bombshell earned her name like Indiana Jones.  Her whip appeal struck T.I., and her quest for the Holy Grail is underway with the assistance of Grand Hustle. Glory stands as her gateway offering on the road to The New Classic.  Designed as a traditional Extended Play album, the six song structure provides old fans and new with an idea of what Iggy is capable of.

Mixtape heads may find Glory to be too brief for their liking, but it nevertheless accomplishes all the things a new artist needs to. Herein, she showcases her ability to flow alongside feature artists, hold a song down solo, construct a concept, and pick a beat.  The first trio of tunes are all coupled with co-pilots.  With ATL’s B.o.B. she treats her Azaleans to a taste of success.  Brand name word play lays the groundwork while dollars are thrown in the air.

Next up she goes hard on the acclaimed “Murda Bizness”.  Therein she and T.I. assault Bei Major’s beat with bravado . Proud to be a fine piece of ass, Iggy eggs the ugly on with sweat-less swag.  Thereafter she stunts further with her Runway flow: high heel walk, no bullshit talk, and goes in about overcoming the odds.  Pusha T does the same with a sixteen that floats like a butterfly and stings like a bee.

The closing tracks provide listeners with her song writing prowess, warm wet thighs, and inspiring confidence.  In making this album, Iggy stated that she was looking to tackle traditional topics, “Me, Myself, My Money” is exactly that.  Arrogance and bank account statements are essential elements to a rapper’s early career, thus, Iggy brags accordingly.  Bills are brushed aside on “Flash” to make room for aggressive sexuality, “Say you not used to seeing pussy on the T.V.? That’s probably because it’s usually on your face!”, and so the pelvis pulsates as she croons.

The title track closes the album out, and does so well.  Horns blare triumphantly as she acts like an Olympian.  Classic subject matter that plays into her plans by letting people know all she does is win – so we are led to believe.  In time we will be led to see, and the hope is our eyes will be open.  For now our ears are satisfied, and our playlists graced with a tight sextuplet.  

Listen to the EP below. 


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