At five songs in 15 minutes, Koffee’s Grammy-winning debut doesn’t waste time. If anything, Rapture feels designed to show you everything the Jamaican reggae and dancehall artist can do in as tight a space as possible. And Koffee can do things. Rough? “Raggamuffin.” Smooth? “Toast.” Dread? “Throne.” She toasts until she runs out of breath and still manages to sing the chorus and never lets you feel the clutch in the shift. But like '90s singjays Buju Banton and Capleton (and contemporaries like Protoje and Chronixx), Koffee’s ace isn’t her versatility or even her seamlessness, but the stickiness of her hooks, which, by the way, she builds with dirt and sugar alike. An EP, sure. But you could also call Rapture a Swiss Army knife.