Omnivore's Delight 10: Lola Maxwell
posted in: Features
Music fans who are quick to criticize mainstream hip hop are often hard pressed to name specific examples of what they consider to be legitimate hip hop. Sure, the quality of rap seen and heard on MTV and commercial radio might worry some purists, but there are still emcees in the game moving beyond the hype, infusing poetic lyrics and style into their rhymes. One such artist is DC’s Lola Maxwell.
Now kids, as seasonal gift-giving rolls around, it’s best not to judge the value of a gift by the size of the package it comes in. The same goes for people. Lola Maxwell may be only 5 ft tall, but she packs a verbal punch tougher than almost any up-and-coming rapper today. Two years ago, 20-year-old Maxwell entered college with the goal of obtaining 
a degree in fashion merchandising. Judging by the outfits in her pictures, she is still very much a fashionista, just now with another dimension: music. She’s passionate enough about this new artistic development to dream big; hoping to revolutionize the way the female emcees are seen, and thrusting real hip hop back into the mainstream. Not to be confused with the people she looks up to (there are none), those who inspire Maxwell include legendary lyricists Lauryn Hill, Lupe Fiasco, Gnarles Barkley and Outkast. Her own music sounds like a spunky mixture of all these things: confident enough to wade through the ego-tripping, male-dominated landscape, but not overly arrogant. More often than not, she sounds like a relaxed college kid with her eyes on the road ahead:
Chill for a second let my rhyme/ ridin’ my lovely Honda, yeah 95/ plus one smackin’ on some bubble gum/ aviators driftin’ out to the sun/ sittin’ in my eyes grubbin’ on some Mickey fries/ focus on the road to my fame I reprise.
And at other times, acting like she’s already made it:
Welcome to my world where I keep it so ravishing/ Imaginin’ the competition lookin’ like my faded denim/ no color let my words go head and hover over your heads like a halo/ I’m high up like the yayo
Her lyrics are accentuated by some pretty killer beats, all composed by peers with ostensible musical knowledge. The soothing Southside Driftin walks on stilts via a staccato trumpet riff and march like snare while vibes glue everything together in the background. The sultry Sour Amaretto is the closest pastor-daughter Maxwell gets to a love song, and is supported by choppy rhythm and vocal harmonies.
For now, Lola is focusing on recording more material for her mixtapes and rapping around the DMV whenever she gets the chance. If you live in the greater DC area, check her out before it starts costing you money!