African-born, Australia-based rapper and singer Sampa The Great appears fully formed on Birds and the BEE9, the final preamble to her debut album proper, slated for next year.

Flinging echoes of Big Dada’s Ty and an angrier soul sister of 2016’s breakthrough artist Noname, she wears her cultural accoutrements like muscles framing so many flowing dresses. She sometimes spits, sometimes glides over beats, backed by a hardcore message that is attuned to contemporary, timeless obsessions - identity, the nature of cultural symbolism and gender politics.

On the surface, it's a spiky-smooth concoction of pride, bombast and vulnerability. Quite what the difference is now between a record deemed to be worthy of being labelled as an 'album' or a 'mixtape' I'm not sure. Birds and the BEE9 feels as substantial as any great debut I ever heard, studded with standout tracks. 'Rhymes to the East' sets out her ID in a blend of R&B and Lauryn Hill-esque bloody-minded funk, with a curious, side-mouthed delivery that lightens the mystical aspects and grounds the beat. 'Protect Your Queen' is up there with tracks of the year, no doubt. ‘Black Girl Magik’ is exactly as it should be – devoid of assumptions, independent, and fun.

A large chunk of the plaudits should be reserved for the Antipodean-UK production crew that paint the delicious backgrounds that Queen Sampa wraps herself in. REMI producer and drummer Justin Smith bends his natural pop sensibilities towards R&B; Melbourne's Silentjay brings dripping Rhodes galore; Kwesi Darko aka Blue Daisy is the freakiest of the three. It's a credit to Sampa that no single element overrides another. It feels like a contiguous whole, despite the disparity of the bedroom funk of 'Casper', the crystalline soul journey of 'Bye River', and the poppy 'Inner Voice'.

Throughout, the artist is fully aware of her curious transplantation - born in Zambia, raised in Botswana, a one-time resident of San Francisco and LA, now launching her musical career in another former colony through a label operating out of the heart of colonial oppression. If her African roots are foregrounded, her experiences in the west are just as formative; "black vocals, black jeans, Docs and a choker." It's a reductive cliché to call Sampa a child of the world, but really, what better representation of the tangential benefits of globalisation will you find?

Sampa The Great is not iconoclastic. While there is edge to her vision, she prefers to build her own structures, poking fingers into uncomfortable truths within the greatest gifts of our world; art, cross-cultural pollination, and mass communication. There is anger here, but constructive anger. Long live the Queen.