GloRilla’s Debut Album Is Mostly GLORIOUS

It would be easy to call out GloRilla’s Kirk Franklin feature as the moment she got back to her church choir girl roots. But that would be ignoring her core function as a minister for disaffected baddies. Since breaking out with “F.N.F. (Let’s Go)” a little over two years ago, Gloria Hallelujah Woods has wielded repetition and hard-earned life lessons to preach the word of GloRilla, a rowdy ’round the way girl who knows too well the virtues of getting money, ratchet ass friends and, above all else, staying “fuck nigga free.” It’s a gospel that’s made her a fringe superstar, and it’s as potent as ever on GLORIOUS, a propulsive debut album that mostly lives up to its name.

At 42 tightly wound minutes, GLORIOUS understands the power of momentum, its tracks spilling into each other with kineticism and everygirl charm. This is a self-contained playlist for drunken Uber rides, with the girls gassing you up for an epic soundtrack to Ladies’ Night. The intro is a customary rags-to-riches victory lap, with a theatrical soul sample helping Glo distill a classical vignette of aspiration and actualization. It’s ostensibly by-the-numbers stuff, but GloRilla’s voice — an authoritative husk framed in gangsta conviction — makes you feel like you can run through a wall. Or down on a chick who had the nerve to approach you about her man being in your DMs. Shoulda listened to Glo’s advice, girl.

That charisma is more or less inescapable, as GloRilla’s decisive bars have a perfectly symbiotic connection to super-charged production. Embedded with triumphant horns, jittery piano keys, and pummeling percussion, these beats could make you sprint a marathon. For “Hollon,” she attacks an Unk sample with searing directness and a bouncy rhyme scheme: “I got hands for a ho, I get bands for a sho/ He want chance after chance, after chance, nigga, no.” Packaged with a simple, yet confrontational hook, it’s vintage crunk chaos courtesy of a girl who was only three when I shouted “To the window/ To the wall!” at my fifth grade dance.

Threading it all is a sense of emphatic power. It’s everywhere from the lyrics she writes to the song titles, many of which, if you read out loud, are literally commands: “Hollon.” “Stop Playing.” “Step.” “Let Her Cook.” It should get repetitive, but her energy and the frenetic pace of it all makes it easier to let her stay in the kitchen. And she cooks just as well when other chefs get involved, too.

I’m not sure of the percentages here, but any time Glo links up with another woman on wax, it’s pretty much buckets. For “Procedure,” she and Latto turn into the baddie version of Jadakiss and Styles P, laying out the protocol for approaching lit chicks with a lot of Insta followers and even more money. The Sexyy Red-assisted “Whatchu Kno About Me” is a fun “Wipe Me Down” remake where Sexyy takes home Bar-of-the-Day: “I’m with my peoples, and we comin’ 50 deep/ You ain’t know I was a hitta ’cause I’m always lookin’ fleek.” The Megan Thee Stallion and BossMan Dlow tracks are fire too.

While Glo has no issues getting the party started and keeping it going, her attempts at slowing things down can be a little mixed. “Don’t Deserve” is a Muni Long collaboration that’s well-intentioned, but stilted; the plainly spoken hook sounds like some bars GloRilla wrote for a verse, but said, “fuck it,” and told Muni to sing as a hook instead. The syllables slide off the edge of the beat in multiple spots, and they lack the symbolism or phonetic symmetry to be worth repeating. The aforementioned Kirk Franklin-assisted track, “Rain Down On Me” is sweet, but kind of just “meh” in execution. His presence doesn’t feel like much more than a fun novelty.

She has more success with “Glo’s Prayer,” a conversation with God about how to avoid being one of those naive girls she so often raps about. The prayer sounds as earnest as a country girl’s prayer is supposed to, and her blunt honesty injects a convincing level of vulnerability into a young woman who usually feels like a Terminator. That sensitivity has always been there, though. On her breakout single, she brags about not having to worry about a “fuck nigga cheating,” but there’s a quiet sadness in guarding yourself so you don’t have to worry. If most of Glo’s debut is a raucous girls’ night out, tracks like “Glo’s Prayer” are the sobering morning after, where you realize guys you might just be stupid enough to try being loved again.

These are the multitudes of GLORIOUS. The LP is probably a little better than her already dope mixtape Ehhthang Ehhthang. There are a couple more misses here, but Glo makes up for that with more genuinely personal songwriting and extending the vibes for a longer effort. Composed of anthemic hooks, powerful slick talk and even more potent self-belief, GLORIOUS stands as a refined and expanded version of GloRilla’s best work. If you were looking for words of wisdom on how to avoid being a victim of cuffing season — or, just turn up with the girls or the guys — her latest might be your new testament. In Gloria’s name.