Artist: Jacki-OTitle: Poe Little Rich GirlRating: 2 1/2 StarsReviewed by: Shawn Lawrence James
Jacki-O should know that there is a thin line between vending sex and lyricism. While artists like Foxy Brown and Salt –N- Pepa exercised their provocative appeal to garner attention from many, their substance conveyed on wax, especially the latter, is what lead to their many RIAA minted plaques. Unfortunately most labels today overlook this crucial asterisk in the development of a good female rap artist and attempt to market one without the other. Offspring from these “corporate brainstorms” include such artists like Lady May and Eazy E’s gimmicky Hoes Wit Attitude. Even though they provided some serious eye candy for the average consumer, they both failed to deliver where it counts most. Now we have Jackie-O. The Miami bred bombshell who created a buzz with her white label “Nookie”, splashes into the mainstream with Poe Little Rich Girl (Poe Boy/TVT). It’s here that Jackie tries to smear the line altogether and cater to the best of both worlds.
The album sports production mostly from newcomer Young Hollywood and G-Unit assemblyman Red Spyda while Jacki pens her version of the Sex Chronicles, inviting listeners to nightlife full of club hopping and bottle popping. The song “P***y (Real Good)” is an up-tempo cut that serves as an ode to “what rules the world”. She uses the concept to display her conceit as well as her intentions with phrases like “get diamonds, big old pearls brand new cars, cause I got my girl/She’s my best friend, she keeps it real/I love my p####, p#### pay my bills” She then shares the mic with Miami’s favorite thug Trick Daddy on “Champion”. It is here that they go bar for bar tossing vulgar exchanges at one another over a nervous trumpet and drum pattern. Jazze Pha also lends his vocal and sonic production on the buzzworthy “Break You Off”
One of the problems with Poe Little Rich Girl problem lies in the entire concept itself. Her “money, cash, hoes” mantra will eventually develop apathy with listeners and the more you dig for actual content, the more monotonous the process becomes. Tracks like “Gangsta B***h” and “Sugar Walls” are virtually the same and despite her strong sexual innuendo, you can’t help but feel stagnated by the subject matter. It seems as if the stand out cut will naturally be the one that well, standout. She does this by exploring the boundaries of love on the cunning “Sleeping with the Enemy.” Rapping over a naked piano that is courted by a collective of horn and bass melodies, Jackie unravels a story about an ex-boyfriend who has betrayed her trust. This track is special because it highlights her narrative abilities as she goes KeKe Wyatt on her man. But that’s just one track.
Overall, this album was clearly meant more for DJ Scribble to play in Cancun rather than play in the average Hip-Hop head’s I-pod. She by no means is an awful artist. She offers lyrics that can pit her with the best female spitters but her generalized ideas showcases lack of creativity and in these days, on this album, that can be just as bad.