Review: "I Don't Like You Anymore" Jordan Occasionally

Full disclosure: I went to high school with Jordan Occasionally and sang with her in choir. I remember her in our program’s a cappella group, Key of She. She was often the featured soloist of the group, delivering her smooth runs effortlessly. She was the star of the show, her stage presence unmatched, as if each note she belts is a love song in itself. Now, four years later, I have the privilege of seeing her grow not only as an artist but a fellow queer woman. So when I heard she was releasing a new single this March, I quickly hopped on the opportunity to be one of the first to hear it.

Jordan Occasionally’s “I Don’t Like You Anymore” fades in slowly to a flowing groove with biting lyrics. Reminiscent of late 90s R&B, the beat is simple yet hits the right spot for an angsty anthem for her womxn audiences. Her lyrics, “You’re not so special/I don’t remember you at all,” read especially well for someone recently going through a break up. It also appeals to that similar feeling many of us womxn experience after moving on from a toxic relationship. The eerie feeling of relief that comes with grieving the loss of romance and intimacy resonates through her honest words and mellow beat. Jordan’s single is not only empowering, but provides a cathartic backdrop for the peaceful mundane of feminist individualism. 

Jordan’s voice itself lends a silky tone, making any song of hers simply beautiful to listen to. She sounds very similar to artist Mereba, both with a slight childlike quality that makes them incredibly relatable. This shows through brilliantly in “I Don’t Like You Anymore,” as her singer-songwriter vibes complement the sway of the beats. Not only this, but this release is much different from her previous songs. We get to see more of Jordan’s range as she has delved into topics on black rights, love, Memphis gentrification, and now womxn’s empowerment. For further listening, I strongly recommend Jordan’s “Dear Broad, Bingham, and Beale” and “Coffee (I’m Addicted)”. Either way, be sure to check out “I Don’t Like You Anymore,” available this Friday the 20th on all streaming platforms. I promise it’s one you don’t want to miss.

Review: cxffeeblack

Being in the same space as Bartholomew Jones is truly a privilege. His energy is exuberant and warm, and as soon as I entered the album party, it felt like I was gaining entry into an intimate private space where free expression was not only allowed but encouraged. That same feeling of freedom is all throughout cxffeeblack the movement and cxffeeblack: an album by Bartholomew Jones. 

To quote from Jones’s interview in Edible Memphis, the cxffeblack movement is a “natural extension of the black diaspora narrative. It is primarily an entrepreneurial venture with specific social implications, the goal being to generate a profit from apparel and events and consultations and then use those funds to provide opportunities for people of origin to create and generate inspiring work”. The cxffeblack movement asserts that coffee and coffee culture is not something belonging to only white, wealthy, and privileged classes, but that this culture is black in origin and authenticity, and as an extension of blackness and everything associated with it, black and other people of color have the right to claim space within it.

Beyond the poignant meanings within this movement itself, the pure quality of the music that supports it is just as substantial. cxffeeblack is most definitely the lo-fi melodious vibes of a black hipster’s dream. The sound is chill enough to where it can easily be imagined as the background of any underground coffee shop throughout Memphis, a calm earworm to be taken with any and all variations of coffee. However, the chill elements of the sound are enhanced further with high-speed rap filled with Jones’s picturesque lyricism, marking the sound with the undeniable dark flavor and gritty authenticity of Memphis rap itself. The album is almost paradoxical in that way, filled with the real-life struggles of Jones in his personal anecdotes where he describes the pressure of being a black man, father, and lover. The intensely personal perspective is coupled with frank statements about the struggles of marginalized communities of origin as they fight for equity and survival in a toxic eurocentric world, giving the album even more depth and grounding. Despite the sorrow and pain in those struggles, they are also able to sit next to the hopeful and loving energy at every turn, keeping the mood pragmatic and uplifting. That juxtaposition mirrored in the sound of the music between the dark and the light is what gives the album the potential to become a niche cult classic for the black coffee drinking community. The energy and sound are unmatched, mobilizing, and uniquely black. 

Overall, the main takeaway from the album and movement is that blackness is not something that should be commodified or oversimplified to make it more easily palatable. Just like the variations in the coffee itself, Bartholomew defines blackness as having so many dimensions to it. The masses may just want to see his blackness when its bold or maybe when its meek and mild, but blackness is so much more than that. It is something that cannot be controlled or selectively chosen. Blackness has to be taken in its fullness, with no sugar or cream, in its full authenticity. That unapologetic celebration of blackness, black love, black struggle, black finances, everything and anything that is a facet in black identity is unapologetically and proudly celebrated within cxffeblack. This album and movement are all about reclaiming blackness from white supremacy and exploitation; taking it back and taking it black. No pun intended.