It is a certain type of havoc that can only be created by self-discovery and nightlife. The type which begins with tripodded newcomer standing clumsily on the dance floor and concludes with the same individual holding a microphone, glowing with neon, challenging the room to turn their eyes. It is the vibration that is running through What have I become the new EP by Melbourne rapper Rammas, out November 12, 2025.

The album art makes you know all before you push the button to play. At the center of the frame is a stylized likeness of Rammas, wearing glasses in the shape of a heart, a tank top that is teal colored, and wide winged fairy wings that open wide as he is shot at by laser. Microphone in hand. Club lights chopping up the darkness behind him. It’s camp. It’s theatrical. It’s defiant. And it is precisely what this project concerns: the change in the popular perception.

Rammas presents himself as a rash, queer voice who took the conventional female rap character and turned the female rap conventional on its head. He inclines towards hyper-sexual punchlines, self-conscious bravado, and comic timing that is in some way informed by the brittle-tongued flamboyancy of Nicki Minaj, the sting of self-awareness of Bo Burnham, and the glitter-dipped confessions of the RuPaul Your Drag Race: Untucked. That source is not inconspicuous, it is almost a mission statement. The true interest here is how Rammas uses those influences in the prism of gay club scene in Australia and constructs an image which is both a satire and liberation, as well as a raw journal entry.

The EP almost over five songs, dubbed DAD, Armed, Desiccant, Oh Rammas, and Ewwwww, sounds like a degradation into (or an uphill move towards) unashamed queerness. Lyrics are crude, outrageous sometimes, and deliberately suggestive. But as the shock value is undermined, there is a through-line of a formerly closet nerd breaking down his prior identity in real-time.

“What have I become?” is framed as a question, but the tone rarely sounds confused. It sounds thrilled.

 

The very first notes of “DAD” prove that Rammas is not here to be listened to. The presentation is brash, almost theatrical, as though he is half-reciting, half-doing stand-up. In the cadence there is an evil grin. It is more punchy club drums and bass heavy bounce and the sound reminds us of the kind of music that fills Melbourne LGBTQ+ dance floors at 1:47 a.m. It is belligerent in subject, but light-hearted in meter.

More aggression ensues with armed. In this case Rammas sharpens his tongue and doubles on confidence. The flow tightens. The bars hit harder. Here he starts to demonstrate valid technical promise, rhyme schemes extend and the pace is more regulated. One of the few strengths through the EP is that Rammas knows performance energy. He is aware of how to make a line land.

Shifts a notch up the tone, Desiccant. Bravado remains but it is more introspective, as though he is analyzing the emotional barrenness that preceded his awakening into nightlife. It is not a sentimental one, but the writing has a slight tension. It is possible to feel before-and-after of his identity development.

“Oh Rammas” feels meta. It is self-conscious, nearing cartoonish here and there, but it is effective since he is serious about the act. By the moment we come to the Ewwwww, he is working in maximum exaggeration mode, challenging the listeners to wretch or laugh or leap, or all three.

The EP is a personality-driven organization. Rammas is brave to the subject matter. He accepts uneasiness and uses it as a weapon. That takes nerve. Particularly in rap where queer male voices are yet to be heard in some lanes.

But boldness alone isn’t enough for longevity.

Production wise the beats are workable and club ready, however, they can be improved. Occasionally, the instrumental work is overly loop-based, and it might use such a dynamic variation as bridges, breakdowns, or melodic changes that allow the listener to take some breathing space. Rammas possesses the theatrical transition charisma. That would bend towards making future projects more immersive.

He comes out best when he alters his tone. On Armed, his more accurate and narrow flow has more power. Elsewhere, however, his performance occasionally falls into the same beat, and prominent lines become less differentiated. It would be interesting to add more variants, such as whispers, melodic hooks, or sudden pauses to make the songs more appealing to hear again.

That said, the EP succeeds in what it sets out to do: introduce Rammas as a character you won’t forget.

The Artist Behind the Glitter

The background story of Rammas is the focal point of interpreting this project. According to himself, he was not always like this version of him. He says that he was shy, dons the rule, and does not feel comfortable with profanity. This is the bright contrast to the overt, flaunt-it-all-over rapper that we hear today.

His account is triggered by the Melbourne gay club life. What began as a friendship bid turned out to be an identity re-invention. The arc is very compelling. The club becomes classroom. The dancefloor is transformed to laboratory. The microphone turns into confession booth.

His aesthetic, influenced by the culture of nightlife, can be heard in his late-night bravado, over-the-top sexuality and shared catharsis of anthemic bass. However, the most remarkable is the humor. Rammas does not portray himself as a conflicted poet. He’s self-mocking. He leans into absurdity. This comedic touch makes the project not seem heavy-handed.

A greater expansion would need to explore that genesis narrative further to get deeper into the material. Consider a song that would describe with more picturesque detail his earlier personality prior to his club experience, the mentality of today, the times when he is weak rather than strong, the times when he has shed the veneer of the hero and faces the reality of the present. Such opposition would make it three-dimensional without making it less sharp.

Themes and Overall Message

Fundamentally, What have I become? struggles with change and vice. It poses the question whether the liberation must be superfluous. It plays with the concept of corruption in the sense of not being a good person but losing her inhibitions.

The EP packages queerness in a hyperbole and sexual frankness, reappropriating words that could otherwise be used against people. There’s power in that. Rammas possesses all his outrageous bars and by possessing it, he is deprived of any shame and he is given laugher instead.

Nevertheless, thematic cohesiveness would be enhanced by intertwining with more accurate narrative lines between songs. At this point, all of the songs can be seen as the portraits of the same personality, as opposed to the parts of the unfolding narrative. It would be even tighter to add some subtle hints or lyrical themes that would connect the project.

Nevertheless, being a first EP, it proclaims the identity agreeably. It is club-ready Melbourne rap that does not dilute itself to reach more masses. That conviction matters.

Tracklist & Breakdown