ALBUM REVIEW: Kelady – BABAE

Written by Louis Pelingen In the first track, “Diaspora,” Kelady’s grandmother emphasizes the connections within the family. The track “We could separate but for me no separation I don’t like… If we separate we are dead already no more.” further imparts that message passed down from grandmother to grandchild. It’s a message that comes applicable to dozens of people and the diasporas that they belong to, embracing the heritages and identities of different cultures. For some, it may take a while to immerse themselves in the heritage of their homeland, but that heritage will always be there with them as they grow older. Never separated, always rooted in their daily lives. For Kelady, she pulls together her debut record BABAE as an ode to the diasporic community that she grew up in, tying it down with varied soundscapes and deliveries. Whether that be an interlocking acoustic cover of Bato Sa Buhangin by Cinderella and Lovers Rock by Sade on ‘Bato Sa Buhangin / Lovers Rock’ floating through Kelady’s graceful singing, embracing her natural brown complexion on ‘Papaya (Remix)’ through a bass-heavy dance beat, embedding kulintang gongs on ‘Funnie’ and ‘Clutch’ within fractured beats and fervent rap flows, and even singing and rapping in Tagalog on multiple songs of the album, it is Kelady’s way to further immerse herself with her Filipino roots. More importantly, the record embraces the close familial bonds with her mother and grandmother, allowing their feminine presence to guide her own feminine spirit in its vulnerable and confident stride. That bond and spirit are always found in the record, encapsulated clearly through the interludes with Kelady’s grandmother vocalizing her brief thoughts and the acoustic songs like ‘Anak (Child of my Heart)’, “Baby Blue,” and ‘Sunrise’ that showcases her mother’s care on her presented through Kelady’s lilting vocals. It extends even further as Kelady embraces that feminine spirit through the processes of love and loss. On one hand, she vocalizes her confidence in “Keh Lah Di” and “Like Me” that’s filled with effortless intonations and bouncy, tropical grooves. But on the other hand, she also vocalizes the focus on healing past the relationship turmoils that open up on songs like “Funnie” and “Kulog” through the soothing acoustics tracks that back end the album, specifically “Babae” and “Sunrise”.  In concept, Kelady weaves together these narratives embracing her diasporic identity as a Filipina-American artist and the close bonds she has with her mother and grandmother with a sonic presentation that’s varied and open, allowing Kelady to paint that picture where both themes are heard with care and detail as she leaps towards soul, r&b, and hip-hop. However, in execution, the album ends up cracking on the seams. Filled with ideas that may connect together, but a lot of elements that unfortunately distract from the record’s overall vision. Within the 21 tracks that total the 42-minute runtime of the record, there are a lot of rigid textures, underwhelming melodies, and clumsy performances that hamper a lot of the songs that already run short, to begin with. Songs like “Barkada” and “Kulog” for all of their bombast show those weaknesses upfront, from the thin-sounding synths and drums, dull melodic lines and choruses, and Kelady’s flows and monotone delivery that doesn’t consistently sound as sharp. While the songs that lean on breezy tones are a comfy fit for Kelady’s potent singing given the more developed melodies to boot despite the aforementioned rigid textures, leaning on her upper register tends to be pitchy and lacks the tightness that she’s yet to refine upon as a singer. Overall, BABAE is a project that does involve a lot of care towards the narratives that Kelady wants to pull through, given that this debut LP took 4 years to be made. From some angles, you can see how the message works when she embraces her diasporic identity and familiar feminine presence pulsing through developed melodies and warmer textures that allow Kelady’s voice to calmly wave through. But as much as she expands beyond that, the record unearths its limits and its weaknesses. Flimsy and stiff beats, limp melodies through short song lengths, and Kelady’s low points as a singer and rapper overall flood the peaceful garden of heartwarming odes of her diasporic identity and femininity with vines that could’ve been trimmed away. Despite the low points that hold this record down, Kelady has put her heart and soul into this record, and hopefully, she proceeds with a future project that allows her spirit to truly bloom. Support the art & the artist: