performed anger playlist

Throughout our course [Black Feminists on Anger], we considered uses of anger, revolutionary forms of anger, but what about how anger is performed? In the form of song and video, what genres and stylistic choices do these artists use to convey their anger?

For the songs I chose, I made note of what kinds of anger were being expressed, and though the target of the anger is different for each artist, there are many ways these very different songs connect. The songs' categories will be shown in the tracklist (over the next few pages), but there are so many other possibilities in terms of grouping the songs.

Thank you and I hope you enjoy! The playlist is collaborative as well for any additional songs that may resonate. The following descriptions are for songs I chose at the time of the project (August 2021).

-- Akua

“The expression of anger is a form of rejuvenation/I'm screaming inside of my head in hopes that I'm easing the pain”

Rico Nasty does not shy away from getting loud. She doesn’t yell in this song, however. This song is the penultimate track on her mixtape Anger Management, a joint collaboration between her and producer Kenny Beats. As a whole, the tape explores a range of topics and emotions — from empowering people to ignore haters over a Jay Z/Timbaland sample to venting about fake people in the midst of her fame — but in this song, Rico spells out the significance of the tape’s title as well as how it ties into her unique style. This song itself may not be an expression of anger, but it provided essential insight on her performance of anger, which is why it shall serve as the introduction to the other songs shown.

Kelis begins this song with a call to action, almost.

“This song is for all the women out there/That been lied to by their men/And I know y’all been lied to/Over and over again/This is for y’all/Yo, maybe you didn’t break the way you shoulda broke, you/But I break, know what I’m saying, so”

Caught Out There is a packaging of frustration, of blowing up and reaching your boiling point. She delivers each verse phrase by phrase, outlining each grievance. In the first verse, she’s in shock, with ad-libs in the background emphasizing her emotions. In the second verse, she’s moved past her shock. She has moved directly into her rage, threatening to blow her target’s vehicle up due to his lies. In the third verse, she is comparing herself to the other woman. As she wraps up each verse with her pre-chorus, she adds slight alterations that suggest what point she may be at in mourning her relationship. In the very final pre-chorus, she says “I got something for y’all,” with the sound of a gun cocking in the background. With the intro, the song becomes more than just her frustration — it’s a collective, cathartic cry: “I hate you so much right now! Aaaaah!”

“I am the dragon breathing fire/Beautiful mane, I'm the lion/Beautiful man, I know you're lying/I am not broken, I'm not crying, I'm not crying/You ain't trying hard enough/You ain't loving hard enough/You don't love me deep enough/We not reaching peaks enough/Blindly in love, I fucks with you/'Til I realize I'm just too much for you/I'm just too much for you”

The rock track — a stark departure from most of the singer’s discography — is filled with curses, it’s loud, it is an embodiment of long pent-up rage. There is anger not only at the betrayal that ties the album’s themes together, but at what it must imply: the man she has spent years with does not value her as she is. The video version of the song includes a clip from Malcolm X, stating that “The most disrespected person in America, is the black woman.” Here, Beyoncé expands the scope of her rage, beginning as a response to her partner, to a larger rage, an understanding that her partner’s betrayal is indicative of a systematic issue that demands that Black women push their personhood to the side time and time again. The end result is a furious question, a demand that she be respected as is. “Who the fuck do you think I is?”

“Wanna go to war wit me baby?/This gangsta bitch can get crazy/Don't you decieve this lady/Don't fuckin' play wit me baby”

The track is both a warning and a response, detailing the extent to which Gangsta Boo goes to right any form of deception against her. She details a number of threats and describes reinforcements — anyone she has on her team is just as ready as she is to beat some ass. Notable in this song, is the reference to her fury as “crazed/crazy,” an ableist label often placed onto black women responding in anger.

“Many people say I'm crazed/Damn, is it a lie?/I guess I'm crazed now-a-days, baby it's do or die”

Gangsta Boo leans into the term, deciding that if the result of her rage is to be deemed such, she may as well embrace it.

“You need to relax, sis/'Fore you get spanked like a bad kid/I do not know who is gassin' you up (Ayy, ayy)/But I'll knock the key out your back, bitch (Back, bitch)”

Megan thee Stallion has been the topic of frequent discussion, dissection, and discourse, often for her confident image as well as the manner in which she embraces her body in her songs and videos. Being a visible Black woman in that regard has granted her lots of scrutiny, from individuals discrediting her skills and her talent. W.A.B., which stands for “Weak Ass Bitch,” addresses these haters: especially the ones who use the internet as a shield for repercussions. Megan confronts them, and lets them know that there are real life consequences to fake behavior, and she will gladly deliver them. The song begins with a call and response (“When I say ‘weak ass,’ you say ‘bitch!’”), indicating that the audience is invited to join in. In this, it becomes a collective shaming of the weak bitch, allowing others who can relate to echo that same anger.

“(Are you mad?) Yes, I'm mad/(What make you mad?) I don't fuckin' know/You should tell me so, you done done it”

While the song is based off the life and work of Jean-Michel Basquiat, who is not a Black woman, Jamila Woods takes artistic liberties to convert his story into song form, and therefore the song’s inclusion on this playlist is warranted. The lyrics above reference an interview in which Basquiat is asked why he’s angry, to which he appears to stifle his discontentment and respond, “I can’t remember.” Woods reinterprets this interaction, building off of what was said and shown and drawing up an inner monologue with more explicit rage and anger. The reimagining of this moment speaks to an experience known by many Black people — in which anger is repressed and stifled in order to calm a white or non-black audience.

“I'm weary of the ways of the world/Be weary of the ways of the world/I'm weary of the ways of the world”

When choosing a track from Solange’s 2016 album A Seat At the Table, there is an option that seems a bit more direct than the one placed here. While Mad is an apt track and definitely would find itself on this playlist, I chose Weary due to the trajectory of the course. In class, we studied the words of Fannie Lou Hamer, notably the speech in which she states, “For three hundred years, we've given them time. And I've been tired so long, now I am sick and tired of being sick and tired, and we want a change.” Anger is often broken down and given other names so it may not be read at what it is, but ultimately both the song and quote connect to the idea of being fed up at the treatment of Black people in America, an anger so long-lasting that it has simply moved to exhaustion.

“Since he was with his boys, he tried to break fly/Huh, I punched him dead in his eye/And said, ‘Who you callin' a bitch?’ Yeah!”

In U.N.I.T.Y., Queen Latifah expresses her discontentment with misogyny within the Black community by presenting three scenarios from multiple lenses. She details narratives of street harassment, domestic violence, and community infighting while tying each verse together with a hook promoting unity and love. The song repeats the question, “Who you callin’ a bitch?” The pointed question is a phrase for Black women to latch onto,  emphasizing that they are not to be disrespected or called out their name. It doubles as a callout and a song for empowerment, demanding that the epithets along with the demeaning behavior that comes with it, cease.