The Rhyme Suite

Guests should tread lightly.

To this day, I still don’t understand the hype behind “POOKIE’S REQUIEM.”

I remember perusing The App Formerly Known as Twitter in late 2024 when I stumbled across the single from SAILORR, a Floridian singer-songwriter born to Vietnamese parents. 

On one hand, many users seemed to be obsessed, while others were averse to the use of “pookie” from a non-Black singer. This, coupled with the claim that the song was essentially a SZA-knockoff joint, left many feeling cringed out. 

At the time, I didn’t find the song particularly amazing nor terrible, but my opinion veered more with the latter group. I shrugged it off, though, assuming the singer would lose relevance in given time. And that’s no shade to SAILORR – that’s just how social media virality works.

But months later, the singer is still making waves and even dominating R&B charts after the release of her debut mixtape, “FROM FLORIDA’S FINEST.” She dons black grills, a nod to her Vietnamese culture, and hits C Notes, B Notes, and the occasional AAVE Note while lamenting on love, love lost, and situationships. 

And I still don’t get the hype. 

When asked to comment on what many claim to be her dabbling in cultural appropriation, the singer acknowledged that the R&B space is sacred, and she understands why people feel the way they do. But she has no plans to make any changes.

“I genuinely just really love making music, and of course I want to be conscientious; I don’t want to offend anybody. But also, I can only move in the most authentic and genuine way that I possibly can,” she claimed on Hot 97. “I’m not here to argue with anybody. Really.”

Non-Black artists have always weaved themselves into historically Black genres, with some committing more overt offenses than others, but few have expressed the self-awareness that SAILORR did in this situation. To some extent, I can almost commend her commitment to the bit, her artistry, or whatever you’d like to call it.

But the taste left in my mouth isn’t exactly a pleasant one.

Her success as an R&B act has not been laden with cornrows, excessive tans, or past uses of the N-word, so it’d be unreasonable to label the artist a full-on culture vulture. And while she’s profiting from a genre in which she has no historical stake, she acknowledges that Black people are essentially the blueprint. Yet, it took Nessa’s prompting on a radio show for the singer to state this and acknowledge the controversy that has lined her career for months. 

I view her presence in R&B similar to how I view the clothes I wear to my 9-5. The clothes fit fine, and I can put nice outfits together, but is it really reflective of my style? Sometimes, sure, but most of the time, I’m making due with what makes sense in a work-setting. 

SAILORR’s music is by no means bad, and it certainly reflects certain facets of R&B, but does it really solidify her spot as a modern face of R&B? At best, her music is largely pop with R&B influences. It feels reflective of R&B in a world ruled by TikTok and consumerism, but it lacks the soul that has made R&B such a transcendent, boundary-breaking genre. 

When considered amongst the roster of her contemporaries– largely Black artists whose music truly embodies the essence of R&B – it feels wrong that she’s the artist receiving so many accolades and co-signs. 

There’s certainly room for all sorts of artists, and music should constantly be evolving, but this concept is harder to reckon with when it’s the guests taking space over long-term hosts and residents.

And don’t get me wrong– I love Snoh Aalegra and Mac Ayres. “Lovin’ on Me” by Jack Harlow is objectively catchy, and I was impressed by the fact that Tommy Richman could belt out “MILLION DOLLAR BABY” in such a high falsetto while singing live.

But do I see Snoh’s old Sade cosplays as thinly veiled attempts at leaning into, and benefitting from, racial ambiguity? Do I think that Jack Harlow or MGK or any other white rapper should ever have a number one rap hit? Do I think that Tommy Richman should be allowed to clearly adopt a Neptunes-esque hip-hop sound, yet take on a pretentious tone when folks try to label him a hip-hop artist? 

These are the inevitable conflicts that arise when we vy to give everyone a seat at our table.

Erasure, harm, and appropriation are rarely ever the intent. Yet a blow to the mouth is still a blow to the mouth, even if you didn’t expect the punch to land. Cruel words are still cruel, even if they are hidden beneath a quippy cadence. And it’s quite easy to overstep when you’ve made yourself a guest in someone else’s home.  

Black culture is my home– it’s where I find solace after a long day of proving that I deserve to be in the rooms I inhabit. Black music is not only the soundtrack to my life, but it is often what makes life worth living. It’s why The Rhyme Suite even exists.

And while that doesn’t mean I can’t enjoy old Amy Winehouse songs, it does mean I have to wonder why she had to turn back to “black” specifically, or why she hoped Valerie didn’t catch a tan. 

Talent clearly transcends race, as does a particular art form’s resonance with the larger culture. One does not have to be Black to appreciate Black music. Similarly, one does not have to be Black to create music that is traditionally Black. But co-optation of Black artforms has far persisted, and intent does not trump impact.  

The line between vulturism and veneration is ridiculously thin, thinner than my patience when non-Black artists are heralded for their emulations of what Black people pioneered.

This doesn’t mean artists like SAILORR should stop making music or even change their sounds, but it does mean artists like her should understand that self-awareness and catchy tunes can only provide so much solace when Black artists are forced to fight twice as hard for half the recognition. 

Give credit where it’s due proactively, rather than reactively.

And understand that you have to earn your spot  on sacred grounds– it doesn’t come with simply crafting cool hooks. 

But hey pookie, what do I know?