Moor Mother’s music often reflects her experiences as a Black woman in America. Coping with the harsh realities of the ancestral enslavement of Africans and perpetuated racism against Black people serves to be difficult for the musician, but Moor Mother tries to make sense of this trauma through her art, She hopes to educate the masses on how we should never forget these tragedies that have become a part of our collective human history. As a result, her newest album, “The Great Bailout,” released on March 8, wouldn’t be out of place in an art museum.
“The Great Bailout” begins with the string-based “GUILTY,” a nearly 10-minute reflection of various issues like the institution of slavery and miseducated children, among other things, in freeform poetry verse. It is evident from the opening track that the style of this album is similar to an arthouse film in that it’s usually inaccessible for casual audiences. But, for those who engage with the art and employ critical thinking with an open mind could get something meaningful out of it.
The piano instrumental and dark, cold percussion of the next song, “ALL THE MONEY” wouldn’t be out of place in a horror movie soundtrack. The phrase “Where’d they get all the money?” is whispered repeatedly as Moor Mother recites her poetry in a deep voice as a way to point to how capitalism incentivized low wages for workers (especially for those of color) and slavery. The lyrics also explore why the countries that abused these practices benefited economically. “Who helped build the country? Who’s getting deported? Who’s without citizenship?” Moor Mother questions later in the track.
“GOD SAVE THE QUEEN” merges experimental trap percussion with a jazz trumpet solo and ambient synths as Moor Mother portrays a sympathetic view of royalty in her spoken word. “Has her plantations been saved?” Moor Mother asks, critiquing the institution of royalty and how, to some, their lives are valued over others.
The droning synths and out-of-place singing of “COMPENSATED EMANCIPATION” mixed with Moor Mother’s initial questioning of “Why am I here?” puts into place the horror of enslavement and how colonization is glorified in the colonizers’ eyes. There is a looming fear struck into the audience as Moor Mother says that “the Queen is coming around” along with “the liberals, the conservatives, the Republicans, the Democrats” and a vague “they” that the audience can assume to “deliver another blow” before repeating the word “choking.”
“DEATH BY LONGITUDE” is abrasive even for Moor Mother standards, with its odd percussion choice and heavier droning than the last song. One of many incredibly powerful lyrics, “Europe is God, and everything else is The Devil,” expresses the ideology of colonizers before listing which countries took part in colonizing and references the colonization of Barbados and Jamaica.
“MY SOULS BEEN ANCHORED” is a short respite that, while still abrasive, allows the audience to process the spoken word so far.
“LIVERPOOL WINS” tackles the issue of how royalty and colonizers tend to have a sense of grandeur especially in how they have themselves portrayed in art. Moor Mother recalled, “In the famous painting of Queen Victoria, she is presenting a Bible to a Moor in Windsor called ‘The Secret of England’s Greatness’” — Moor Mother then asks, “How long did it take to pay off the trauma?”
“SOUTH SEA” begins with a metallic percussion sound similar to a tambourine along with hymn-like singing. Moor Mother begins her piece by making the bold statement, “We in the present are constantly injecting ourselves into the past.” The first part of her spoken word ends with the line, “When will the ancestors speak for themselves?” Moor Mother then illustrates a story about the ships that carried enslaved people with her words, extrapolating on what the enslaved might have thought, like trying to escape or enacting their revenge. She then asks a harrowing question: “How many have to be slaughtered before you choke on your tears?”
“SPEM IN ALIUM” (translation from Latin: “hope in any other”) is a short outro piece that takes its name from a sixteenth-century English composition by Thomas Tallis. It sounds like something avant-garde singer-songwriter Dean Blunt would make, as the mood is pretty dismal.
“The Great Bailout,” like most of Moor Mother’s works isn’t designed to be sonically appealing, but rather an expression of how urgent it is that human rights are respected and that history is taught accurately. In that respect, this album served its purpose of educating and reframing colonist perspectives. Additionally, this work may just be her most direct curation yet.
Educator and activist César A. Cruz once said, “Art should comfort the disturbed and disturb the comfortable,” and I happen to be comforted knowing I’m not alone in feeling enraged at how our ancestors were treated. Moor Mother is a brave soul who deserves to be recognized alongside many other artists in her field for expanding the boundaries of art and education with eloquence.
4.75/5