Somewhere in a ballroom competition, a dancer is giving their very all to a track that speaks deceptively to a common staple of black trauma. “I knew I had my belt / I’mma give that ass a welt / … I knew I had my Bible / I’mma pray for your survival,” goes the lyrics of “Spanked.” Somehow, they could transcend said staple into something competitive and threatening toward anyone who follows the act. Such is the way of Black music: the ability to turn something universally affecting into something fun.
Juicebox P. Newton, a trans-femme who both makes music and owns her own music studio, is the latest in a long line of trans artists who use their art to hold up a mirror to a broken society. They don’t just make music under She-Nut; they ARE She-Nut. An afrofuturist horror entity that is no less frightening to the soul than your average characters, but the fright aims towards anything that causes and perpetuates black trauma and hatred, especially through an LGBT lens. In “Blown Out,” the She-Nut character only has one eye and was born out of a lifelong struggle, be it personal or social. And her latest hip hop/club album, Demarcation, which means to fix a boundary or a limit to those unaware, uses such art to read America for filth as hard as they read themselves and Black people in general.
The horror-flavored trap track “Condoleezza” is a bass-heavy scorcher that vomits some of the most deadly bile towards those with internalized anti-Blackness. “She ain’t never been a nigga, ain’t never broke bread with a nigga,” Newtown scorns before asking “How you forgot you’re a nigga?” The song doesn’t just stop there, but it also highlights how much grace we are willing to offer a Black person despite such internalized anti-Blackness. Right after Newton states “I bet she died like a nigga,” they points out how “we still gon’ cry for a nigga.”
The topic of toxicity within the Black community continues in the gospel-inflected song where “MLK,” aka racist’s favorite misunderstood American Black savior, openly dismisses America’s false and lazy worship of Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. The point is further driven home when organs burst out rapturous church chords, and She-Nut plays choir singer and preacher. Within this song, Juicebox argues that MLK’s nonviolent message will only bring carnage to Black people as the more racist side doesn’t and never will subscribe to such ideals. “Don’t trust Martin Luther King,” sings She-Nut. “A tree ain’t where I’m trying to hang.”
But don’t think that Demarcation only ever focuses on issues outside She-Nut. After all, if the songs after the last three make any point, it’s that sometimes, the injuries that help to create She-Nut can also be personal and internal. “Blown Out” opens with a familiar horror chord tackling the hell of drug abuse over trap drums. Meanwhile “Same Shit”—as in “same shit, different bae”—dissects both toxic relationships that often lead towards them, and how it doesn’t get any easier afterward. Over a rhythm that could move Ciara in her heyday, mind you.
That’s Demarcation in a nutshell. It’s an album that may hold up a mirror to the ugly parts of society, but if you are looking for an album to try to explain how to break those cycles—as hard as that is to do—you came to the wrong one. If there were any complaints about this project, it is that it sometimes abandons the experimental, horror-esque theme that sets the scene with the opener “Blown Out.” That however can be forgiven because the song topics are no less purposefully discomforting in nature and tone. Demarcation is a confrontational album, but in a way that looks for an overall change, even if they may have to battle you for it.
