Barkaa
Oxford Art Factory, November 2
Reviewed by JAMES JENNINGS
★★★★

There was a period in the late ’80s and early ’90s when the biggest rap acts on the planet – artists like Public Enemy, N.W.A, Ice-T – were overtly political, addressing everything from systemic racism to police brutality in fiery, culture-shifting tracks like Fight the Power, F--- tha Police and Cop Killer.

Modern mainstream rap may be more focused on materialism, but politically charged music still exists in certain pockets of the hip-hop world, including Australia’s thriving Indigenous scene, which includes Nooky, 3%, Briggs, A.B. Original, Baker Boy and Barkaa, aka south-west Sydney’s Chloe Quayle.

On stage, Malyangapa and Barkindji rapper Barkaa has a powder-keg presence and is politically outspoken from the outset, urging us to throw our middle fingers in the air for OUR Lives Matter, a song dedicated to a family member who lost his life while being held in police custody (“We still gotta fight ’cause coppers keep taking lives/I’m sick of it, sick of being traumatised,” she raps with a raspy intensity).

No dark secret is safe from being dragged into the light for examination, including the Stolen Generation (Bow Down: “They used to beat ’em and then rape ’em and they took they kids/Go on, tell me why I ain’t got trauma in this life I live”) and disproportionate Indigenous Australian incarceration rates (Division: “My people making up 28 per cent of these prisons/We make up 3 per cent here in this population/While the other 97 per cent under the ground missin’” ).

To her credit, Barkaa isn’t afraid to shine that spotlight of truth on herself, either. She references overcoming drug addiction, stints in juvenile detention and losing (and later regaining) her children. She takes great pride in overcoming obstacles that would prove insurmountable for many. “When you speak your truth – the good, the bad, all of it,” she tells us, “people can’t tell you nothin’, ’cause you’ve got nothing to hide.”

Yes, there are bangers galore given extra oomph via a live drummer and guitarist playing along with the DJ, but it’s that sense of authenticity – coupled with a joyous celebration for culture and love for Mob – that prove to be the night’s greatest triumph, with the ferocious, foul-mouthed and funny Blak matriarch Barkaa giving us her all. Long may she reign.

THE FEMALE OF THE SPECIES
The Old Fitz, November 3
(Until November 23)
Reviewed by KATE PRENDERGAST
★★★½