Another heater is “Different Kettle.” The way its simmering string glissando veers into slugs of bass is a frigid display fit for a Twilight Zone episode. More importantly, Chy is rapping her ass off. She spits with more assurance over mean beats like this, and her unorthodox syntax links rhymes together seamlessly. Her brash delivery of that “Rick O down ’till I look like a goth” line has been ringing in my head since I first heard it. “Not the One,” “Real Boss Chick,” and “No Bring Ins” (there goes that giggle again) are similarly rich in percussive barrages and sharp one-liners. Hearing a Brit adopt Atlanta lingo like “fine shyt” and “getting to the munyun” is kinda funny, I’ll admit, but when Chy boasts, “I got a new hairstyle every week, like/I ain’t gotta wait ’till my birthday,” it’s funnier to picture who she’s flexing on. No holds barred—just unabashed cockiness.
When she’s not popping wheelies in enemy territory, Chy Cartier hits barriers of her own making. “I don’t like to say how I feel,” she admits on “Crazy,” but NO BRING INS would cut deeper if she told us more than what she can see. The opening of “SN” shows off her flair for description: Cuban links, white tees, red boxes full of diamonds. Unfortunately there isn’t much past the surface. The spacier, somewhat generic production on the back end of the record seems handpicked for reflection, but real insight is evasive. Cartier flirts with the idea of a love story on “Crazy,” writing about a boy who gives her roses and takes her to Paris, but the lack of emotional depth is glaring when you know it’s meant to be there. What does she feel when she’s with him? How bad does she want it to last? “Locked In” is a plea for honesty and loyalty from her inner circle, except there’s no sense for the betrayal she’s experienced. It makes it hard for her words to resonate.
Since her introduction to the UK’s thriving underground, Cartier’s appetite for luxury has signaled superstar ambition. NO BRING INS can feel like it’s checking off steps in a formula for an accessible album: a couple club bangers, a couple love songs, some vague motifs about getting it out the mud. It’s this desire for crossover appeal that makes the sound palette feel safer than it needs to be. The piano roll on “Good Approach” and strings on the outro could’ve been plucked from any beat pack. There’s no need for Cartier to follow a blueprint—she just needs to feel comfortable. All it takes are some claps and an acid house squelch for her to make “Shush” a standout, rapping in disgust at the leeches attaching themselves to her business. What NO BRING INS shows is that no matter how unconventional her delivery, Chy Cartier can dunk on her opps in her sleep. The real challenge is in making the music her own.
