by Brooklyn White-Grier
We know Rico Nasty for raging against machines—AKA bubblegum synths and hi hats that tip-toe, unless you were ahead of the curve and remember her more fresh faced work from 2014. Regardless, she’s since become rap’s ordained punk supreme, constantly being recognized for her nearly hoarse boasts and too-cool-for-you demeanor. She’s dropped off a few yearly projects, most recently her debut album Nightmare Vacation and mixtapes Anger Management and Nasty, giving peers into her daily orbit and general life philosophies. Transparency isn’t avoided, but isn’t regularly laid as plainly as it is on her new loose track, “Grow Up.”
Maybe she’s feeling the slump that’s hit us all like a ton of bricks. The COVID-19 pandemic continues to devastate, the Texas government has found a way to meander around Roe v. Wade, climate change has escalated already-dangerous natural disasters and we’re expected to work, be parents (Rico has a young son) and maintain the grossly inauthentic “good vibes only” front for strangers online. It’s a crushing dance, especially when you’re just nestling into your mid-20s and millions of eyes that are strained from increased screen time are on you. So we find Rico fearlessly submitting to reality.
“I don’t wanna grow up, I’m so scared of losing, I’m afraid of failure, I don’t check my emails,” Rico croons on the chorus. We’ve come to expect distinct ways of being from the artists who fill our playlists, which is not always the case. They’re complicated like all of us and every day isn’t the same—some come with missed alarms, insecurities and shifted hair habits (all of which Rico raps about here), which is life when your routine is mangled beyond recognition. Mask removal is cathartic.
Maturing is a delicate process when it wants to be, while other times, it’s unrelenting. Anyone who says differently is a liar, or maybe one of those who constantly embraces tension and makes themselves think they love it. Maybe they actually do, I don’t know. I do know that confrontation with yourself can be like sandpaper to the skin and your memory can lose its fire for containing everything that’s ever happened to you. They say it gets better, (whatever “it” is) and while I believe it does, I understand their experiences aren’t quite this. But hey, everyone is self-watering to the best of their ability, stretching and leaning towards the midday sun—sages, everyday Gen Z-ers and celebrities alike.