“Not a Novice How I Prophesy”: Junglepussy’s newest EP is her best work yet.

The aptly titled Jp5000, following releases Jp3 and Jp4, both builds on those records and blazes past them. Futuristic and uncompromising, Jp5000 is Junglepussy, elevated.


If you’ve heard of Junglepussy, you probably know the iconic “Trader Joe.” Over a beat featuring cut vocal fragments, occasional squeaks, telephone rings, and cash register bbrinnngs, Junglepussy tells it to us straight. She raps like she’s speaking right to you, her delivery both melodic and talky. She’s funny. The iconic bridge begins: “We don’t fuck, he just pick me up from Trader Joe’s / Carry all my groceries and lick on all my toes.” 

That cut is from 2018’s Jp3, following releases Satisfaction Guaranteed (2014) and Pregnant with Success (2015), the latter of which features the sultry “Pop for You.” Jp3 followed the trend of that song, trading noisier rap beats for slower, groovier sounds. Cleaner and occasionally mellower production on later releases brings Junglepussy’s crisp diction to the fore. On Jp4 single “Arugula,” the talk of Junglepussy’s signature talk-sing-rap is emphasized, her elocution exquisite. Tender and explicit, you can hear every word.

However, even having been aware of Junglepussy’s evolution and growing maturity, Jp5000 is a delightful and unexpected surprise. Her talk-rap takes center stage, codifying her signature style across the EP. The pitch of her voice is lowered, her tone firm. She sounds distinctly like herself. It’s her sleekest album, with slinky, uncluttered production throughout. It sounds a bit like quicksilver, the noise of early releases refined, their metallic tones reclaimed. Although, this EP is darker, painted in oily blacks and grays. An insistent bass rides through the project and deep drums anchor each of the EP’s five tracks. 

At just 12 minutes, the EP wastes no time, with opening track “Critiqua” starting right on the downbeat. Plucked banjo sways over thumping beats, contrasting with Junglepussy’s metered, coolly delivered rap. Her voice cuts through with calm authority: “Bitches love to critique / they swear they unique.” Is this middle finger to anonymous haters overplayed? Maybe. But Junglepussy does it well, and it squares with her act. She’s a force, and a weird one: “Ain’t a damn thing discreet / The name Junglepussy.”  

“Movie Screen,” produced by Nick Hakim, ups the ante. Whirring synths jump alongside bright violin and twinkling keys. The effect lends a futuristic feel to the song, the would-be soundtrack to a sci-fi sword fight. Junglepussy is not just an object of criticism, but one of envy, and the track is home to some of her sharpest lyrics, including a reference to a sixteenth century astrologer and seer: “Tryna copy you watching me with your espionage / Nostradamus not a novice how I prophesy.”

On “Foreign Exchange,” a standout from the EP, Junglepussy commandeers a dense, stuttering beat. Her raps remain off the cuff, her language slithering and playful, but she is grittier than on past releases, and her talk isn’t just play:

Ain’t get me dollar slice from Two Bros / When I had the blue mohawk lime green metro / in my grunge clothes / You ain’t wanna walk with me through SoHo / Like my booty stink and yours don’t / Like I do these things and you don’t / Who took me to the show / Introduced me to flows, frequencies / A new type of intimacy / You let society say you should be ashamed of me / And all this time I coulda sworn I wasn’t made to be. 

Established in her career, with four LPs under her belt, Junglepussy turns back the clock. She’s suspicious of newfound support, conscious of what that support celebrates and what it ignores. She raps like she’s issuing a challenge.

This isn’t the first time such themes have arisen in her work. On the aforementioned single and Jp4 track “Arugula,” Junglepussy bemoans a hot-n-cold lover—the track is slow and understated, her tone wistful. She trails off at the song’s end: “Sometimes I give into sadness / Sometimes I go to sleep.” 

Similar topics arise on Jp5000. The difference, however, is Junglepussy’s orientation toward them. The Junglepussy of Jp5000 is assured. There is no trace of melancholy. She is confident, sometimes bitter and sometimes beyond it. She won’t take on others’ negativity.

Themes of intimacy and relationships, reflection, and retrospection are spread throughout the EP. Junglepussy tackles our techno-capitalist “social experiment” and raps legitimate social critique through visceral metaphor: “Can’t offer this long legged awesomeness / To y’all ordinary tunafish offices / I’m off it sis / We all awkward off the social experiment / We not talking over jealousy it's evident.” She declares herself to be above this empire of impotence and opens the possibility for us to do the same. 

When the fourth track, “Raqueletta,” arrives, it is a welcome reprieve. The song trades heavy beats for a drum set and curious, repetitive synth. Moreover, it’s a love song, remaining tender through Junglepussy’s unwavering control and dry affect. It’s an important moment on the EP: it breaks up what could be a monotonous roster of ‘better on my own’ anthems, and Junglepussy’s sensitivity sheds light on her “take no prisoners” vocal style and badass persona. The latter become inseparable from the former, and the connection reveals Junglepussy’s intimate knowledge of self. It casts her -isms as technologies for protection.

On album closer “Mystical,” Junglepussy nimbly navigates hurt, superficiality, and a “Brooklyn dude, mad cute with your crooked truth” over warm horns and glittering chimes. In this track, a main theme of the EP comes into focus. Now, “Bitches love to critique, they swear they unique,” the EP’s resounding opening, sounds less like a fuck-you to the haters and more like a call for self-trust. In the wake of disloyalty and insincere fads, Junglepussy champions herself. Isn’t it time someone did? She’s put in the work.

The track closes: “I'm top of the mountain / Meditating topless / I transcend.” The line embodies Jp5000—Junglepussy has transcended. She tells stories and recounts relationships, her place in the narrative authoritative and her insights sharp. Her control is complete; Yet, we never lose sight of the human, the hurt. She tells a personal history, defiantly her version. Sonically forward-facing, the EP is often retrospective. It could only be the product of an artist confident in their craft, and of a person established. 

Internally I'm guiding, aligning my force within

The source within, external eyes lie often

Divine remind you in these moments

You be offspring

Divide the lines between your truth

And thoughts they off spring

At all costs don't be nervous, let them birds sing

Let your balls hang and your breasts swing.

Standout tracks: “Movie Screen,” “Foreign Exchange”



edited by David Feigelson, Copy Editor & Treasurer.

album artwork believed to belong to either the publisher of the work or the artist.

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