Amanda Blank: Philly rapper on the come up
By Rob Brink
I'd been harassing rapper Amanda Blank for days before I finally got her on the line. Having just engaged in some lazy Sunday afternoon "boo lovin,'" Blank, 24, was still lying in bed. Naked. Now, I'm all for professionalism and as this was our first time speaking, I was gentlemanly enough to only wait three minutes before engaging in important topics like fingerbanging, handjobs and boners.
Blank, as I found out, will talk and rhyme about anything. The Philly-adoring MC just wants to have a blast and pursued rapping as a laugh—jumping in on the boys while they were freestyling and smoking blunts at high school parties. Then, after graduation, television-less and bored, Blank wrote songs about doing the dishes and cooking dinner with her roommate. She then recorded tracks with friend and producer, Spank Rock.
Her attitude has been totally breezy. "How serious can I take myself?" Asks the fun-loving rapper. "People know I'll do anything just to tell the story the next day. My music isn't only about cocaine and blowjobs, but you can't always have a message. People are over it, they want to hear something that will make them move." Blank, whose musical inspiration rages from Whitesnake to Cat Power, also records as the singer of the indie pop band Sweatheart, when she's not busy collaborating with her indisputably talented friends. "I have good people around me—XXX Change, Diplo, Spank Rock, Low B, M.I.A." Blank says appreciatively. "To know people who are doing shit that you like makes pursuing much easier. Fuck it, if no one else likes it at least my friends do."
Her fashion sense is equally compelling. She rocks the 1992 stripper look—the Kelly Bundy—tiger-striped, super-long nails, stirrup leopard print stretch pants under her shitty jeans, lots of fake gold and David Lee Roth hair. "Oh my God, I'm going to be so ridiculous if I ever make real money." Speculates the singer. "I'll be such a fucking spectacle all the time. A whole room of make-up and my own personal air-brusher." Which is just freaky 'cause that's the Missbehave office in a nutshell.