Lauren - Keke Palmer - 2016

Favorite Tracks: Hands Free (though I’d recommend listening to the entire album here.)

I was listening to some music on Youtube not too long ago. It was one of those mixes that plays the songs you’ve been listening to recently, so I was prepared to hear some Madison Beer, Zara Larsson, and the like while I folded my laundry. But a few videos in, I heard a video that I hadn’t watched in quite a while. It was an excerpt of Keke Palmer on a podcast talking about her album, Lauren, before the actual song played. I cocked my head in intrigue. I figured that since I hadn’t listened to this song (or any similar songs) in quite a while, that it should be out of the rotation (or at least WAY far down the list). But after jamming out to a classic hit for me, I quietly returned to my mundane task. A few days later however, there was still something from that video that was rattling around in my brain.

I remembered back to when this album first released in 2016 (in that influential and malleable teenage stage of my life) and how much I looked up to Keke Palmer. She was young and successful, but with a certain sense of humility and honesty that made me feel like I could be just like her one day: happy, healthy, and true to myself. It’s that last piece that truly made her stand out to me. I remember seeing her on TV as a child actor, particularly in Akeelah and the Bee, as the star of True Jackson VP, and later on a role in Scream Queens (an iconic show, honestly), then seeing her transition into young adulthood with a sense of both grit and grace. She never saw the mainstream success that some of her network compatriots received at the time, but she still stuck to her guns and worked hard to create opportunities for herself instead. She served as a true inspiration for all of us, especially all of the little black boys and girls who needed to know that their stories, experiences, and creativities were beautiful, important, and worthy of being shared with others.

All of those qualities made me ecstatic to hear her true, raw self in her music. I’ll keep it brief with just an anecdote or two for each song.

Doubtful starts off the album on a tender note, not only describing the pain of heartbreak, but the lasting effects of it. On a tangential note, a line that taught me a lot about trust was from Lady Gaga’s Telephone video: “Trust is like a mirror, you can fix it if it’s broken… but you can still see the crack in that motherf-cker’s reflection.”

Got Me Fucked Up was the girlboss anthem before the term “girlboss” really rose to prominence. I think it would’ve done numbers on that Tik Tok algorithm if it was released now, but hey, if they can give Nicki Minaj’s High School its flowers 12 years after the fact, then I’m sure it’ll get recognized at some point down the road.

Jealous is a nice complement to GMFU; a good “feeling myself”-type song. I enjoy how the video showcases her old neighborhood in Chicago filled with friends and family. Even the house she grew up in also serves as the official album artwork.

Pressure on the surface seems like a song just about the troubles of opening yourself up and being vulnerable with someone else. But in the back of my mind, since her roots stem from being a child actor, I wonder if there are some hidden meanings regarding the industry as a whole? Just a thought.

Hands Free: the song that cemented Keke Palmer in my mind as an icon. Yes, it’s a song about sex, but you really wouldn’t notice it unless you listen really closely. This track is so well-crafted: the beats, catchy melody, and the video is a beautiful showcase of fun and elegance (and some eye-candy). A must-watch for sure.

This album was one of those pieces that helped define my adolescence, being a part of how I viewed and refined myself. Something about this album has stuck with me throughout the years, a connection that makes me feel optimistic, hopeful, and somewhat proud of not only Keke Palmer, but a residual, second-hand sense of pride in myself. It gave me some of the confidence I needed when I didn’t have any of my own. And those final words, the mantra, the message that I didn’t know I was searching for, found its way back to me after all these years.