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RU - Iggy Azalea's The New Classic

So Iggy likes to remind us of her struggle as a sixteen-year-old outchea in Miami with no family, where she went chasing her dreams of being a 2 Live Crew back-up dancer or whatever her plan was. Seven years later she’s on top of the charts (which pra’li means she sold 100,000 albums in this era) with her debut album. Seeing as though that makes her the highest-profile Australian rapper since Bruce Samazan and a veritable role model for all the Tumblr gals hanging out in Collingwood dive bars with Dipset tatts, it’s only right that I give The New Classic the Conservative Rap Coalition review test.

‘Walk the Line’

This is like the dame’s version of that uplifting stadium rap that Eminem has specialised in for the last three albums. She really overplays the whole Southern drawl delivery in her raps, which is particularly odd considering she still speaks with a strong Aussie accent in her interviews.

‘Don’t Need Y’All’

Here Iggy channels Drake and turns her feels up to a hunned. Again she reminds us she about being sixteen in Miami as if she deserves an effin’ medal for that shit.


She calls herself a “fly Aussie” who’s a “fancy bitch but ratchet” and shouts out Lady Diana. Aw bless.

‘Change Your Life’

Remember when T.I. was making unstoppable club anthems like ‘Love Your Life’ with Rihanna? Sadly, he seems to have lost his touch completely. I blame Tiny. This song is aimed at shitting on basic bitches while being designed for the listening habits of the most basic of all bitches. Oh the irony.


The song where Iggy shouts out The Rooftop because she heard about it on a Nas song. The beat on this song, and this video of her ass-tacular performance at the Woodie Awards, eliminate any further criticism at this stage, and I will quite happily watch drunk white gals attempt to dance to this the next time I’m drinking Jameson in public.

‘New Bitch’

This tries to come-off as edgy but it’s sweeter than than a can of Welch’s Grape soda and may require an insulin shot to avoid falling into a diabetic coma if you make it all the way through.


Cry me a freakin’ river. The beat is decent on this but the fact that she refers to her mum as her “mama” as opposed to the always amusing “moms” or at even “ma dukes” let me down like J. Cole did Nas in his overly active imagination.

‘Impossible Is Nothing’

Hold up – I thought you were a ‘bad bitch’, Iggy? Ready to jig me with an icepick if I messed with your paper or gave you the side-eye? “You can do it too, young man”? This is the rap version of those “Hang In There!” posters with a picture of an adorable cat on a branch.


Iggy gets her Kanye on with her attempt at “Power” but with 99% less conviction. That guitar solo and choir combo is the epitome of a failed attempt at creating an “epic” atmosphere, and comes off like a parody of itself. Unless it actually is a parody of making of failed operatic music and therefore a brilliant commentary on the manufactured emotion of much modern pop? (Not so much.)

‘Black Widow’

Azalea makes like her namesake and lets the proverbial dingo take her baby – if by “dingo” we mean the track, and by “baby” we refer to her ability to stay on beat. She’s also trying to get her “smexy” on, but comes off about as appealing as Mama Boo Boo without the aid of a video clip and Daisy Duke shorts.

‘Lady Patra’

Remember how a bunch of kids fuxed with A$AP Ferg’s ‘Shabba Ranks’? Is there a female reggae crossover star in the ’90s we could name a song after? There is? Awesome! I mean, that’s trill!

‘Fuck Love’

This beat is suitably ignorant for the late-night Mollywood crowd, making it the only song to match the brainless appeal that you might find in ‘Fancy’.


Was hoping for more amusing references to her time spent south of the equator other than the mention of eating crumpets. Sadly, only ‘Fuck Love’ and ‘Fancy’ really work as music to get White Girl Wasted to, while too much of the album attempts to please various rap fan demographics (namely Eminem/Drake/Kanye). Meanwhile, the affair fails to bring anything to the table other than how gosh-darn impressed we all should be that she pulled herself up by her bra strap and became a well-known rapper, despite her humble beginnings in Da Outback. Can’t she invent a fake beef with Nicki Minaj or some shit?

Keep up with Robbie’s weekly ‘No Country for Old (Rap) Men’ here.