Chicago singer-rapper Tink is an artist whose persona is largely up for interpretation. Her name is allegedly a nickname she’s had since she was a child, but as a pseudonym it could have any number of connotations: it’s the name of a benevolent fairy, but it rolls off the tongue like an epithet with its sharp consonants. She’s a hard-edged MC who doesn’t take any bullshit from unfaithful boyfriends, but she fawns over the faithful ones as lovesickly as any Sixties girl group. And then there’s her roughly equal capabilities as a rapper and singer, though she favors the latter style on her fifth mixtape, “Winter’s Diary 2.”
Under most circumstances, this would make for a confusing and uncompelling persona, but the miracle of “Winter’s Diary 2″ is how all of Tink’s contradictions and juxtapositions combine to make a gripping character portrait. If these songs are any indication, Tink is a sensitive individual who does not care how she comes across to anyone, either as a musician or as a person. “Winter’s Diary 2″ may be the most human release yet to come from Chicago’s hip-hop underground, a scene known for producing nihilistic and unemotional music. It’s also one of the best.
Some mixtapes try hard to sound like albums; “Winter’s Diary 2″ is not among these. This is the rough-hewn work of a rapper with enough connections to assemble a solid collection of beats but not enough to afford a big-name producer or high-quality studio. Though Tink could certainly benefit from clearer-sounding production, the uncluttered beats match her vocals perfectly. Her voice is flawed, quiet, pretty, occasionally weak but always brimming with emotion.
Tink’s unflappable monogamy is the most striking aspect of her lyricism. Yet while mainstream monogamists like Beyoncé and Jay-Z use the idea of a luxurious dream marriage to create a sense of escapism in their music, Tink gets to the core emotions that drive one to pursue a committed relationship. She’s seeking comfort; she craves honest emotional connections; she wants to be seen as a human being. Above all else, she’s madly in love.
Though the men Tink sings about are hardly sex objects, the male voices that show up on the album are largely anonymous characters, and it’s almost laughable how weak and faceless they sound in comparison to the mixtape’s star. “Dirty Slang” features Minneapolis rapper Rocky Diamonds stepping into the role of Tink’s boyfriend, and he sounds exhausted and out-of-breath as he asserts he’s “still leaning from last night.” (Tink, meanwhile, soldiers on as stridently as ever.) “Freak Like Me” features singer Tko Nikko, who sounds so little like the “freak” he claims to be.
The best of the male vocalists on “Winter’s Diary 2″ is Tink’s fellow Chicagoan Lil’ Herb, who argues with her on a stunning track called “Talkin Bout.” She accuses him of infidelity; he skirts the subject. Though both sides seem to make good arguments at first, Herb gradually loses his ability to hold his ground against Tink’s claims, and he comes out of the song thoroughly emasculated.
The idea of a rapper with such a fierce commitment to one person (at least at a time) is not exactly revolutionary. Yet Tink makes devotion seem badass in the most genuine way possible, not through invoking the fantasy of constant sex but through expressing her pure feelings for the objects of her affection. Few hip-hop mixtapes I’ve heard are so uniformly driven by emotion. And if Tink manages to get in touch with a solid producer — which I have no doubt she will giving her pop chops and rising profile–she could likely channel her feelings into an even greater product. I’ll be waiting.