Rhythm King
Pop, 1990

Let’s talk about Betty Boo, the British pop-rap firecracker who burst onto the scene in 1990 with her debut album Boomania, a catchy, infectious whirlwind that made her a quirky pop sensation in the UK—and yes, even scored her a minor hit stateside with Doin’ the Do.

For about one album’s length, Betty Boo was the UK’s answer to anyone who thought rap couldn’t be cute, with her vibrant style and bubbly beats making her as much of a novelty act as she was a rising star.

And what an introduction Boomania is! Right from Doin’ the Do, Betty Boo sets the record straight: she can rap. And not the soft, half-singing sort of “rap” some people might coast on—no, this is the real deal. Her delivery is sharp, punchy, and the enunciation is impeccable. This is brash, boastful fun with that classic “I’m the best; suck it, you haters” rap cliché, but she’s got a quick wit and tongue-in-cheek charm that elevates it to delightful heights. Somewhere, Nicki Minaj is probably doing a head nod of respect.

Then, there’s Where Are You Baby?, a sharp turn into Betty Boo’s singing career. Yes, she sings here, but let’s just say it’s… not her strong suit. The vocals may be questionable, but the song itself is an absolute treat. The production leans on the edge of wild, almost like a 1970s funk party crashed by a Hanna-Barbera cartoon cast. It’s all a little madcap, with Betty Boo’s voice riding the beat like a rollercoaster. Is it an impressive vocal showcase? No. Is it a blast to listen to? Oh, absolutely.

The rest of the album follows suit with this irrepressible energy. Boomania pulls from Motown, funk, disco, and tosses them into a blender with Betty Boo’s rapping and occasional vocal detours, while wisely leaving the bulk of the singing to her background vocalists. It’s as if every track is daring you not to dance, with standout tunes like Hey DJ / I Can’t Dance (To That Music You’re Playing) making it almost impossible to resist. Betty Boo may have been aiming for pop stardom rather than rap credibility, but she serves up a dance album that’s relentlessly fun.

Yet therein lies the hitch. As joyful as Boomania is, Betty Boo’s whole persona feels packaged, like a character from a candy-colored Saturday morning cartoon, a bit too “fun” to be taken seriously by hardcore rap fans. Betty Boo could boast with the best of them, but it was hard to see her as more than a manufactured pop sensation, a novelty act aimed at teenage girls who, let’s face it, tend to trade in their idols about as often as they refresh their social media feeds.

Still, don’t let the cutesy packaging fool you. Give Boomania a listen. It’s like discovering the edgy, rebellious daughter of the B-52s. If you’re willing to overlook some cartoonish vibes, you’ll find that it is an unexpected delight—quirky, unapologetically upbeat, and just waiting to get you grooving.