At 11 p.m. Thursday night, the balance of power among Houston's female rappers (and all rappers, a little) shifted markedly, because that is precisely when Just Brittany's first proper EP, the unexpectedly polished and ambidextrous More Than Just a Pretty Face, was officially released.
Brittany most recently made news when she signed with Cash Money records on the strength of her earworm single "Call Me For That Good," a built-for-radio regional hit that spawned countless remakes and wherein JB essentially shares a celebratory (and metaphorical) high-five with her own vagina.
Prior to the release of the EP, she made herself available for a few moments to answer all sorts of questions about all sorts of things. Some notes from the conversation, followed by some notes from the album:
The first thing that stands out when you talk to Just Brittany on the phone is her voice. It will always sound much more demure than you're expecting, even if you know exactly what to expect. It is not small in way that betrays a lack of confidence, but it does not move mountains, either.
It sounds like what you'd imagine a little gopher's voice would sound like, provided it were not starring in a Tim Burton movie. Why is his shit always so creepy?
When we spoke to Brittany, she was fresh off of shooting a video for her single, "Slumber Party." She said they shot for 17 hours. Apparently, that's normal video-shooting time.
In the video, she mentioned there is a "cupcake scene," which sounds like the greatest thing in the world. Unfamiliar with the standard slumber-party agenda, we asked if all slumber parties had a point in them when girls sit around and eat cupcakes. Turns out, they do. We whiffed on asking about pillow fights or make-out sessions. Let's all just assume that those things go on as well.
She hat-tipped a bunch of people for helping her get to where she is now, as well helping her how to process everything that was happening to her; remember, she went from relative obscurity to near regional fame in less than a year. Chief among those that she wanted to thank: Bun B and his wife.
It probably would've been more surprising if they weren't involved. About two years ago, we were buying Combos from the corner store as a pre-dinner snack because we're so classy, and the cashier was trying to get customers to buy some Bun B/Pimp C compilation mixtape he had made. His sales pitch: "You have to buy the Bun B. The Bun B is Houston's finest." You can't make this stuff up.
