Shay

The album Pourvu qu’il pleuve available everywhere

The one who brings the light, as her stage name in Yanzi means. A light so blinding that you look down. Four years after her album Antidote, Shay is back with Pourvu qu’il pleuve, radiating all her power.

Originally from Brussels, Shay has her roots in music, including that of her grandfather, Tabu Ley Rochereau, a Congolese rumba icon who headlined at the Olympia in the late 60s. Inspired by female icons such as Foxy Brown and Lil’ Kim, and discovered by Booba in 2011, she chose rap and hasn’t looked back – she’ll be opening for him at Bercy without batting an eyelid.

With her assertive style, Shay has established herself as a key figure on the French rap scene. She has also asserted her femininity, becoming the first non-white French-speaking artist to appear on the cover of Vogue Japan. She defies sexist stereotypes by creating her own label, « Jolie Garce Records ».

With Pourvu qu’il pleuve, Shay expresses total independence. You don’t have to wait too long to understand it. The album’s fabulous introduction, Partie hier, is a manifesto that leaves little doubt as to Shay’s means, capable of a flow that is sometimes voluptuous, sometimes abrasive: « I’m above the glass ceiling / I wear my balls without wearing underpants ».

Shay is free in every way. Free with her flow, free with a hybrid hip hop soundtrack, between rap, egotrip, Afro music and R’n’B – witness the tasty sample that punctuates Shooter, that of Dilemma by Nelly and Kelly Rowlands. « I have a hard time with Zumba when it’s not good quality », she sings, ultra-nervously, on Baby Daddy, just as she is allergic to cowardice. Her vulnerability serves as inspiration: « There are no two like me, » she reminds us on T mimi, in the Afro vein cultivated throughout an album that also marks a return to Shay’s Congolese roots. Free of her money, evoked in all its symbolic possibilities. « I don’t see life without dough (…) If you attack me, I’ll answer back », she warns in Cash, addressing a man with little appreciation of the success of the black madonna facing him. Beautiful, rich, intelligent : Shay is well aware of this, and doesn’t hesitate to poke fun at it throughout Pourvu qu’il pleuve. As for 1000 à l’heure, it’s perhaps one of the most melancholy tracks on the album: « I like my life, I want it better », she asserts. So, cut for the club, 17 is the sentimental anthem of a self-assured businesswoman. Finally, she is free to pursue her love affairs as she pleases. « You don’t need a djo’ when you’re a pretty bitch », she whispers in Jolie Go. She clears up any misunderstandings with men by refusing to give up, no matter what notably on both the addictive À l’envers, featuring Gazo, and Sans Cœur, where she plays with Niska’s heart: « I can see he’s getting attached / It doesn’t touch me, I don’t feel anything, » she laments. « Why always more? » laments the Parisian rapper. Because the ego trip can’t be satisfied with half-heartedness, answers Commando, the most talked-about performance of the Les Flammes ceremony. And if JGG’s incisive instrumental is reminiscent of Nicky Minaj’s finest hours, the temperature of Santa Fe (Bad Gyal) would burn a New Mexico thermometer: « no-one can replace me », she reminds us. We approve, and bow before this impressively coherent album, whose intense tracks allow themselves musical audacity, such as the saxophone on Poison Ivy.

Finally, we discover another facet of the artist in the touching ballad Paradis shared with SCH: « I spoke with the angels / I asked them what paradise was like », in which she evokes in depth her relationship with life, death and posterity.

« You want a go like me, I hope you like danger », warns Shay. Pourvu qu’il pleuve feels like a multi-faceted film. Thriller, thriller, romantic comedy, sometimes drama, but its hectic pace never ceases to keep us on the edge of our seats. This energy has always been Shay’s. Channeled? Channeled? No, not really, and fortunately not. From its very beginnings, rap has been a tool for emancipation. Shay makes Pourvu qu’il pleuve a hit factory of universal musicality. Whether she hails from Brussels, Brazzaville or New York, it doesn’t matter: her contagious ambition and all-consuming desire grab us by the guts.

Jolie Garce Records / Because Music