​Album Review.
Overall: A fanciful "romantic journeys" concept album that has plot holes
 
Ariana Grande’s Eternal Sunshine seems to be a state of the union address on her string of high-profile relationships and her dynamic with the press. The title is quite evidently taken from Michel Gondry’s Eternal Sunshine of The Spotless Mind. The film follows a couple that undergoes a procedure to erase memories of each other. They still manage to find one another, but fall on the rocks when they review evidence of their prior connection. Ultimately, they give it another go.
 
Grande’s album doesn’t follow the movie point for point, but it’s still conceptually relevant. I roll my eyes when a popular culture reference is used as a project name and it’s just a cutesy, shallow nod. The LP’s essential question is presented in “Intro (End of The World):” ‘How can I tell if I’m in the right relationship?’ The answering closer “Ordinary Things” features a recording of Grande’s grandmother. She asserts that it’s easy for couples to overcome issues and they should never rest without kissing goodnight. Moreover, you should ‘get out’ if you can’t bring yourself to smooch.
 
One could argue that most pairings have an ‘able to kiss goodnight’ stage, so I guess Grande’s taking us along on her quest to find permanency in that regard. Many of the songs depict a romance reaching a stalemate and her exiting stage left. There’s a consistent air of regret, amongst hopes of residual attachment. Early in this terse 36-minute set is an astrological interlude about how the universe pushes you to figure out who you are, starting at age 29 (Grande turned 29 in 2022). Grande briefly mentions therapy, codependency, and having 'demons,' but the record doesn’t really focus on self-discovery. What ‘ah-ha’ moments did you have and how did they affect your love life? How did you course correct and break your cycles? It isn’t even deliberately suggested that she’s learned nothing or is still piecing things together. Without all this, there’s a huge hole in the narrative that makes me ask ‘What’s supposed to be the takeaway?’
 
At the conclusion of the LP, it’s implied that she’s found ‘the guy.’ Yet, we don’t know what’s changed on the ground or within her where the romantic odds are better. Grande’s previous project Positions ended on a similar note—with heightened stakes because of its hints about nuptials. The writing on Eternal Sunshine is thankfully less inane and juvenile though, and there’s no marital teasers. Grande indeed got hitched to Dalton Gomez during the Positions era, but they separated about two years later (their divorce was recently finalized). Soon after, she was linked to her Wicked co-star Ethan Slater. Home-wrecking accusations persist, as Slater is fresh out of a marriage himself and has a very young son. These details are important because of how they’re reflected in the music—particularly in the songs about the media.
 
Over a four-song arc, Grande infers that people have her all wrong. She touts that she’ll play into perceptions, since she can’t control them (ex. “True Story,” “The Boy is Mine”). After an act of defiance (“Yes, And?”), she resigns to waiting for the news cycle to be favorable again (“We Can’t Be Friends”). Of the quartet, “Friends” is the most lyrically intriguing because you’d think it was a sad love song if you didn’t know better. The commentary on how quickly and easily the media tide turns is also interesting. Grande seems almost certain she’ll be beloved once more. While she says her truth will ‘sit in silence,’ it’s still curious that she doesn’t share it. It could’ve been done in a veiled or swift way, or be centered on her identity overall. This section of Eternal Sunshine’s tale is more clearly defined, but alas is unfinished too. In addition to Grande, the writers are Max Martin and Diana Garland.
​

Beyoncé pandemonium made it tough to critically discuss "Renaissance" openly. Is it safe a year later? #NP Tevin Campbell-Can We Talk?
 
Beyoncé is at a point in her career where anything she releases may cause hysteria, be it an Instagram post, a drop from her Ivy Park athletic wear line, or new music. Feeding this is her position as a high caliber act in an industry climate where the bar has substantially lowered since her arrival.
 
Over the last two decades, major labels have increasingly struggled to retain consumer dollars and attention. Piracy and social media are among the impactful forces. This has led to cutting corners of all sorts, including with talent scouting and development. Beyoncé rose to fame before the downward shift, and she’s one of the few of her contemporaries to consistently put out material. Thus, people will voraciously eat up whatever she tosses at them like vultures on a carcass, haha. Her latest project Renaissance would be swallowed twice as fast because it’s her first solo album after 2016’s Lemonade. It’s also her debut dive into the dance genre, which many have clamored for.
 
I was BeyHive before there was a designated BeyHive, so it’s nice to see my fave garner this much excitement and positive reception. It’s not without its aggravations though. The mass bandwagoning and superficial fandom surrounding Beyoncé is at a fever pitch. I could do a whole TED Talk on the influence of that and why it’s irksome to me as a stan, haha. For now, I’m focusing on the effect of this as a music nerd and reviewer. There’s not much room for constructive critical assessment when it comes to Beyoncé. Online, takes are filtered through the lens of “you’re either for or against her.”
 
I don’t wish to rain on the parade, give credit when it’s not due, or feed the fault-finding crowd. It’s always my target to have great analytical discussion. I’m curious if folks will share my opinions, or cause me to marinate on things I didn’t before. So, I opted to weigh in when the ground was conversation conducive, and I could examine Renaissance in totality with its visuals. A year later, and Beyoncé’s just telling us that we are the visuals, baby. Guess that means it's officially time to talk, haha. Are ya'll ready to objectively discuss Renaissance with me?
 
I’ve scored various areas on a scale of 1-10. For fun, I've titled them as if they were ballroom categories. If you don't know what I mean by that, you soon will, haha. They're named after artists I feel embody them. 

The Category Is…"Dancing in Prince’s ‘Purple Rain’ (Music/Production):" 7.5
 
The music and production of Renaissance is easily its strongest and most dominant facet. It’s kind of a problem that it’s the star of the show, but I’ll get to that shortly.
 
Dance albums can be stylistically one-dimensional, but Beyoncé offered a smorgasbord without compromising the identity of the core genre. On the list of those giving her a helping hand are Mike Dean, The Dream, Stuart White, and Nova Wav.
 
Despite the variation, patterns of hyper pop, funk, rap, EDM, vogue, R&B, afrobeats, and more seamlessly co-exist and collaborate. Some of my favorite melds involve gospel accents. They’re used as end-caps for the house music-based “Break My Soul” and the disco darling “Summer Renaissance.” Their positioning perfectly created a sense of deliverance, as one might feel leaving their cares on the club floor. Gospel is also the backdrop of the aptly titled “Church Girl,” seated on New Orleans bounce. It’s anyone’s guess if the union of what’s considered sacrosanct and debauchery is simply a delicious irony. Perhaps it’s a note to re-evaluate what we deem 'holy' and a source of inner peace. It could be commentary on how seemingly opposite worlds are more alike than believed. *Andre 3000 voice* Who knows where this flower grows?
 
The employment of templates, interpolations, and samples spanning the last 50 years makes Renaissance both comfortingly nostalgic and relevantly current. Simultaneously, it feels like the ushering in of a new era, as all is coated in a futuristic glaze. Cohesion is attained in part by each track swaying into the next.

In addition to the stylistic diversity, what separates Renaissance from other dance records is its darkness. For a project that’s supposed to inspire “joy,” “release,” and being “adventurous,” (as per Beyoncé’s Instagram), it’s strangely murky. I wonder if it’s to represent the life-dirt we’re all trying to shake off like Mariah and Taylor, or if it’s indicative of the space Beyoncé’s in artistically and/or personally. Her work has been decidedly tenebrous following her 2013 self-titled LP.
 
Renaissance is laden with minor keys, chords in lower octaves, low frequencies, and weighty synths and bass. Songs with lighter waves are encircled by dim undertones. The audible shading contrasts, like that on “Alien Superstar,” can be fetching. Its stomping verses and pre-choruses divinely lift into the floaty main chorus. It’s fittingly ‘extraterrestrial.’ The muddy production and mixing distracts from such moments, however.
 
Strategic mixing is especially pertinent when there’s as many moving parts and dusky elements as on Renaissance. In a nutshell, mixing deals with how components are placed and blended to be heard a certain way. Today’s engineers have a tough job because they must contemplate how things will sound on multiple platforms and devices. Furthermore, they have to find ways to make up for inevitable quality loss. When music is compressed to be formatted for CDs, uploaded for digital streaming, and so forth, some frequencies are diminished. Tidal and similar tout their lossless and stereo features, but physical CDs are still as close as you’ll get to the original mix. Use Bluetooth or another wireless item with a streaming service, and you have double the reduction.
 
This in mind, I listened to the Renaissance CD with a DVD system connected to 'movie theater' speakers, a ritzy traditional stereo, a classic portable player, a computer, and in a car. I used regular and wireless headphones of different price points. The same goes for standalone speakers. I streamed the album with Apple Music on everything except the portable player of course. I heard it on my phone without linking it to anything as well. I toyed with available sound settings, presets, and equalizers (which was fun, haha).
 
Across the board, Renaissance’s surface was blaring. I constantly adjusted the volume to hear the (much softer) vocals. It made me think of when the sound suddenly amplifies on a TV during a commercial break. You hurriedly grab the remote to turn it down, and back up again when Euphoria is on, haha. Given the LP’s declarative and provocative personality, it should be boisterous and omnipresent. It has a spectacular arena-like fullness (by the way, the “Break My Soul-Queen’s Remix” is unreal with the right equipment). What takes away from it is the abrasiveness from the imbalanced loudness, gritty aspects, dense bass, and hard rhythms. Moreover, you have *Ariel voice* gadgets and gizmos aplenty competing for space.
 
Production can be jam-packed, but mixing equipoise can prevent noisiness and allow each significant component to shine. There were cool effects and beautiful instrumentation or vocals I could only hear clearly with specific devices or settings. Even then, those constituents were accentuated at the expense of others. It was difficult reaching an equilibrium. This is a disadvantage. The maximum emotionality that could come from the musical composition is hampered. On top of that, there’s little oxygen left for the lyrics and vocals to breathe.
 
It takes a while to memorize or internalize the words of a song when the arrangements keep your ears so busy (though some Renaissance lines are intentionally emphasized). The sung parts are a challenge to indulge in too, which brings me to my biggest issue here. Beyoncé arguably plays second fiddle to the production, which towers over her. Her voice is often at a quieter level or not a centerpiece. Many might say instrumentals are supposed to be the heart of a dance record. Howbeit, their typical redundancies and mechanical quality enables singers to soar. The performers usually enhance choruses and give climaxes or bridges punch (ex. Kelly Rowland’s work on David Guetta’s “When Love Takes Over;” I kept it in the family with this, haha). These built-in vocal opportunities are frequently missed for Beyoncé on Renaissance. Between this and the cluttered musical landscape around her, she’s affixed as a supporting actress. This should never happen; particularly with a powerhouse like her. To a degree, she willfully takes on this role, leading us to our next category.

The Category Is…"Whitney’s Sweet Refrain (Vocals):" 7.0
 
Shout out to those who just caught my nod to FX’s Pose (RIP Candy).
 
Perhaps Renaissance’s production wouldn’t have stolen Beyoncé’s spotlight so easily if she wasn’t vocally conservative. In the leads, she largely stays away from acrobatics. There aren’t many 'money notes' or markedly emotive phases. Instead, she chooses to rely on colorful phrasing, growls, and other assorted noises to add character, haha. The woofs on “Church Girl” and Lil Jon-esque grunts toward the end of “Cuff It” amuse me.
 
Beyoncé still demonstrates her dynamics, effortlessly going from airy to sonorous. She relishes in the deeper pools and rougher textures of her voice. On numbers like “Heated” and “All up in Your Mind,” she sportively exaggerates the gruff to where she sounds like a different person. These fluctuations and adornments notwithstanding, she primarily sticks to the middle of her range. Aside from the vocally concentrated regions in “Plastic off the Sofa” and “Virgo’s Groove,” the backgrounds and harmonies are where most of the razzle dazzle is. The overall temperance is underscored by an uncomfortable abundance of 'talk-singing.'
 
Renaissance definitely isn’t the showcase 2011’s 4 was in this department (I’ve found myself revisiting it to get my fix). Then again, Beyoncé was 12 years younger and hadn’t given birth to three children. A multitude of factors can affect the voice and contribute to natural wear and tear (ex. Pregnancy, comprehensive health, medications, smoking). Wise singers with proficient technique have the acumen to adjust their recording and performance approaches as needed. For instance, they’ll be practical and won’t put out tunes they can’t sustainably do on a rigorous tour.
 
What we’re hearing (or not hearing) vocally on Renaissance may be the fruit of Beyoncé’s environmental adaption. Her skillful navigation of her extending depths and transformed timbre is praiseworthy. Concurrently, the absence of her prior heights and delivery is felt. Artist, vocal coach, and music educator O’Neil Gerald analyzes the perceived changes in Beyoncé’s execution here. 

The Category Is…"Mariah’s Butterfly Daydream (Lyrics):" 6.0
 
Chile, Beyoncé and her squad of writers gave us next to nothing on Renaissance, haha. The dance and vogue genres aren’t known for reflective lyrics, but that provided our star with a golden creative opening. Had she diligently flexed her pen muscles, she’d be applauded for defying the status quo. She might’ve been credited with treading a path for 'thought-provoking' dance music in the mainstream. It was a chance to put her “UNIQUE!” stamp on it and make it her own. Last, but not least, Renaissance would’ve been stronger as a concept album.
 
The hardships brought on by coronavirus and socio-political turmoil in 2020 was an influence for the project. Beyoncé told Harper’s Bazaar in 2021 that she wanted to nurture a much needed escape. Aiming for escapism may be why the content isn’t meatier, but the two aren’t mutually exclusive. “Break My Soul” proves this; it’s uplifting because of its attack on strife. People could connect and gyrate to it at the same time, haha. This should’ve been the model for majority of the LP, intently covering healing and an array of life topics. It would’ve driven the point about renewal—a renaissance—home.
 
Much of the stimulating subject matter on other cuts is relayed in a half-baked, disjointed, or dysfunctionally abstract manner. It can be so open-ended that the messaging isn’t clear. To boot, it’s overwhelmed by shallowness, materialism, and braggadocio. Some of the lyrics are just plain childish or meaningless fluff. Often, the language is what I call 'text message casual:' rudimentary and loaded with gratuitous expletives.
 
Let’s take a look at “I’m That Girl.” Beyoncé *Rose Dawson voice* congratulates herself on being a master of the universe, but asserts she didn’t want the power that comes with it. If the lines didn’t stop there, we’d know if this was about the downsides of fame, being a child star, shouldering a sense of responsibility, or something else. She goes on to describe herself as “indecent” and says she has an “Un-American life.” These ideas—possibly about race relations or cultural ideologies—are unfortunately abbreviated.
 
On “Heated,” Beyoncé is hot in her aesthetic and hot with anger at her mate. We love when an entire song serves as a double entendre. In order to do this well, elevated storytelling is required. The submissions of “Heated’s” 11 writers weren’t refined enough. Akin to a Lifetime movie, their enticing tale was too choppy to satisfy, ultimately.
 
“Church Girl” is the most criminally undercooked. It has an evident, interesting premise: an embattled woman is finally letting go and feeling flirty. Where it tanks is the party scene illustrations outnumber those about the protagonist and moral. What has she endured? Who has judged her? Why is it important that she’s “happy on her own…without a man?” For those who question how you can “do God’s work” and “drop it like a thotty,” what is the answer? Has she found "a new salvation?" A tie-in to “Break My Soul” (and some rich exploration) was right there.
 
Sidebar: Nonetheless, “Church Girl” is a full circle moment for me in my fan journey with Beyoncé. One reason I was drawn to Destiny’s Child as a teen was that they grew up with religion and seemed to be passionate about it like I was. I’m now processing my negative experiences (to put it lightly) with faith communities, and have long reconfigured my beliefs. Considering how I came to Beyoncé, it’s wild she has a song aligning with this current stage of my life.
 
Tracks such as “All up in Your Mind,” “America Has a Problem,” and “Cozy” gain points for their cohesion and consistency. The first two are intertwined thematically, as Beyoncé sings of making someone addicted to her. This is expressed with an overarching drug use metaphor, complete with a sample of Kilo Ali’s 1990 anti-cocaine song of the same title. In fact, Renaissance is littered with references to controlled substances. The LP heavily cites the 1970’s and 1980’s, when the “War on Drugs” U.S. government campaign took off. If this isn’t a connection to the related epidemic of the day, maybe it’s a hint the album has a bleak subtext.

Remember that “life-dirt” I spoke of in the production section? The drug tidbits could be about our desperation for relief from the mud, and our destructive coping methods. A Wednesday Addams plot-twist would be that Renaissance suggests happiness is elusive. Euphoria is fleeting, and can only be captured by getting high (or inebriated—there’s a ton of alcohol mentions too). The softer side of Sears theory is that love, sex, and identity are the heady intoxicants; no snorting needed.
 
“Cozy” is a whiff of Beyoncé’s “What I’ve gathered after 40” perspective. She’s at peace with who she is, where she’s been, and where she’s going. It would’ve been great to get more nuggets about her rides with personal growth, aging, parenting, and so on. I love the body positivity droplet on “Heated:” “Dimples on my hips, stretch marks on my tits.” What are her covid-era epiphanies? I imagine she has some; the pandemic spurred the record after all.
 
Renaissance has some catchy and quippy lyrics, but they’re not very arousing intellectually. “Break My Soul” is the best written. It’s relatable, concise, pithy, and encapsulates the LP’s objectives.

​The Category Is…"Joining Janet’s Rhythm Nation (Theme):" 8.0
 
Beyoncé has a bad habit of putting most of her conceptual eggs in one basket. She’ll depend on a single element to convey her ideas and let the others be flimsy in support. 2013’s “Flawless” is a run of the mill sass-track without Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie’s featured speech. The excerpt from her TED Talk made the song a striking feminist statement. Lemonade  is squarely about infidelity. Its accompanying film infused with poetry and cultural symbols gave it layers. There were think-pieces galore on the connotations of ancestry, generational conflict, and black women’s suffering. In Renaissance’s case, the theme wasn’t adequately upheld by the lyrics, but it was sonically.
 
Having the 1970’s as this record’s muse was both a musical and ideological choice. The period saw the emergence of disco, as listeners were most interested in what would keep them in motion. Its rhythms were extensive, hypnotic, and oh so sensual. In many ways, it was quite a veer from the rock anthems that ruled the charts and impressed upon popular culture. Disco was engineered by black artists and led by female performers with unabashed sexual energy. It was the soundtrack of bustling city neighborhoods, filled with eccentric creatives and queer people. It was a renaissance of sorts, and the straight white male establishment wasn’t having it.
 
Industry figures, like DJs, held demonstrations to destroy disco records and paraphernalia. The naysayers claimed to have purely artistic 'concerns' that weren’t motivated by social prejudices. Their talking point that disco’s affiliated grandeur and hedonism was repelling to the 'blue-collar' class implied otherwise. The protests were initially successful in pushing the genre off Billboard, but its spirit persisted.
 
The electronic dance, house, and vogue/ballroom music of the 1980’s and 1990’s took its cue from disco. All were integral to Renaissance, specially the latter. Black and brown members of the LGBTQ+ community formed surrogate families to shelter and support those exiled by their biological relatives. These units were referred to as 'houses.' The houses would compete in ballrooms for perfect 10’s from judges to win fancy trophies (and eternal bragging rights). The diverse challenge categories would often be based on talent (ex. voguing), physical attributes, and themes (ex. Fairytales).
 
What spoke volumes was that several slots were about being convincing—by heteronormative standards—in a certain role. Positions like 'business executive' and 'military sergeant' were systematically barred from openly queer people. In the ballroom, participants could be who they wanted, if only for a night. This glittery world continues to evolve and thrive.
 
The music of ballroom is structured to sync with the sharp and angular moves of voguers and the graceful swagger of cat-walkers. It also matches the saucy staccato commentary of the emcees, which informs the spoken word of pre-recorded releases. These tracks hold decades of chosen family and opulent dreams of owning everything.

​Disco and its offshoots are a musical personification of rebellion, quirk, and ecstasy. As long as there is turbulence and oppression, it’ll be needed. Beyoncé sought to bring its vibes into the rockily-started 2020’s, and she isn’t alone in this. Doja Cat, Dua Lipa, Dove Cameron, and Drake (funny how all their names begin with 'D'), are just a fraction of those channeling disco (and/or the adjacent) lately. Another goal of Beyoncé’s was to pay homage to abused communities whose artistic contributions weren’t properly acknowledged. This doesn’t come across totally when you read Renaissance’s lyrics, and that’s a weakness, but it's unmistakable through the music.
 
Facebook user Chrystal West posted, “If you don't know about Bianca Jagger riding around Studio 54 on her 30th birthday...seen Paris Is Burning, Kiki, Pose, or subscribed to "Ballroom Throwback Television" on YouTube…wanted to move to New York City during the 1970s-2000 because of how seedy, dirty, and artistically vibrant it was, Renaissance may not be for you. Renaissance is black, gay, house, tribal, disco, and 1970’s vanguard in one…”
 
The Category Is…"Toni’s 'Secrets' Garden (Engagement):" 6.5
 
I know 6.5 is a lukewarm score, but hear me out. Renaissance is not readily digestible. As Chrystal West highlighted, it’s very niche and esoteric. Without knowing the frame of reference and/or having an affinity for its central genres, it would be an acquired taste. Some might’ve had an aversion to it because it’s an atypical Beyoncé record, and not what they expected or wanted to hear from her. Then, there’s the coarse and shadowy sound, with middling lyrics and vocal.
 
YouTube reviewer Ajay was slammed online for her tepid video reaction to the LP, where she said she’d have to sit with it. A mere two months later, she posted a revisit clip (now deleted) getting her whole life to it. She was willing to admit what many wouldn’t: Renaissance is a ‘grower’ album. Lucky for Beyoncé, the soil is fertile for that. Had this project come out at a different time in the last 15 years, I’m not sure how it would’ve landed. The industry atmosphere has such stale air, there wasn’t much to yank attention from Renaissance. People were shocked they couldn’t stop listening to it; they’re used to flashes in the pan. Meticulous bodies of work that could have longevity aren’t the default these days. What's more, Renaissance’s production and Beyoncé’s clout all but ensured it would be given a shot (and patience).
 
If one’s gravitational pull to Renaissance was slow or stagnant, social media probably changed that. Songs seep into your consciousness when you repeatedly hear them in passing, haha. Groupthink and reputation being what it is, some folks championed the LP because of the consensus. Those with dissenting opinions might’ve remained silent, avoiding Ajay’s fate. Others who spoke up possibly had a like-minded circle or got a kick out of being contrarian.
 
Renaissance’s biggest engagement asset is the transitions between songs. They make your experience of the record a holistic one and entice you with a promised voyage through another world. You stay inquisitive, trying to detect an upcoming switch. Your ears are successfully primed to eagerly await the next track. If the following tune is forgettable or unappealing, you could still have an attachment to it. These tracks are so married, it felt wrong to play them out of order for months. Even the closing “Summer Renaissance” gels well into the start of “I’m That Girl.” You were liable to listen through the album all over again.
 
The transitions shake things up a bit as well. Many of Renaissance’s songs live in the same place musically and/or vocally. Most of the progressions within are mild.
A gradual loss of steam begins at the album’s midpoint, and it doesn’t cease until “Pure/Honey.” The savory auditory morsels and impish lyrics along the way can’t compensate for the deficiencies.
 
People’s online rankings of the songs confirmed which are the most engaging. Much of Renaissance’s latter half struggled to find footing with fans. Cuts such as “America Has a Problem” didn’t have limelight until buzz for early favorites (ex. “Alien Superstar”) died down. Some never really caught fire (ex. "All up in Your Mind"). Here's my two cents on a few tracks in regard to engagement:

​1-“I’m That Girl” is a catfish. You’d think a song launching a dance-centric record with that title would be trumpeting. Rather, it’s anti-climatically caliginous and flat in sound. It’s Beyoncé’s worst album opener.
 
2-“Cuff It” wins the engagement race hands down, hence it being the only song to trigger an international dance craze on social media. It’s not bogged down with heavy and dark effects. Therefore, the funky live instrumentation and dulcet vocals are crisp. Beyoncé doesn’t take a backseat to production on this one. It’s frustrating no other tune on Renaissance is as infectiously melodious and cheerful. “Pure/Honey” and “Summer Renaissance” tease it in parts. Sidebar: This fan-made Sims video for “Cuff It” is everything!
 
3-“Energy,” “Move,” and “Heated” have similar pros and cons in terms of engagement. Due to their African and Caribbean flavoring, they’re attractively rhythmic and voluptuary. Having zippy, quotable lyrics is a boost. The flaw is they’re built around their apexes. For “Energy” and “Move,” it’s their second half where there’s an uptick or longer, fuller, and more melodic chords. On “Heated,” it’s the spoken ballroom outro. Most of each track is like warm-up filler because of the peak-driven design.
 
4-“Break My Soul” is a near-perfect lead single. Its sentimental throwback to 1990’s house music and Big Freedia sample clues you into Renaissance’s concept. The aura of familiarity and lively piano is tugging, but the song gets monotonous. Just before it could lose the listener, its exuberant bridge and fall saves the day. Hearing the empowering lyrics via a gospel choir and Beyoncé’s harmonies is rejuvenating. @CantReplaceJRad on Instagram perceives it as a certified 'worship song.' He mashed it up with “Time to Come Home” from The Fighting Temptations film soundtrack; it’s fantastic.
 
5-“Church Girl” is polarizing to the people. For every ranking I saw with the song near the bottom, one listed it toward the top. I hypothesize the sound is the root of the divide. It’s got a New Orleans bounce finish, but it’s also a call to a fad sector of early 2000’s rap. Subsequently, “Church Girl” may seem dated to some.
 
6-“Virgo’s Groove” is winding, chanting, and erotic; an obvious salute to disco and the 1970’s. The snag is it's missing the essential ingredient for keeping a lengthy song from plateauing. The music and vocals need to escalate or have a robust ebb and flow. “Virgo’s Groove” tows its line until its succulent final two minutes. Beyoncé goes ham and there’s this cyclic, luring ominousness that brings Michael Jackson to mind (maybe "Thriller?"). Until then, you might think “Whoa, this cut’s been on for a while.” Being after the super chill “Plastic off the Sofa,” this zone of Renaissance is a touch sleepy.
 
7-“Thique” has its springiness and fun lyrics, but it’s musically limited. It has few notes and chords, and its composition is chaotic and directionless. Elements come and go without apparent cause. The result is a track that sticks out like a sore thumb because its production sounds amateurish and cheap. Beyoncé is mostly talk-singing on it, so it has no vocal reprieve. It becomes boring fast.
 
8-“All up in Your Mind” is minimalist too. It has a smidge of hold because of Beyoncé’s haunting vocals and its portentous, yet seductive energy (à la the last of "Virgo’s Groove"). This sucks you into the song’s concept of a dangerous infatuation, but it’s not enough. It’s hard to see "All up in Your Mind" as anything more than a long prelude to its cuter sister “America Has a Problem.”
 
9-“Pure/Honey” didn’t get caught in the traps other tracks did. It pursues your ear with how it steadily rises and pulsates. By recurrently flipping in sound, it dodges tedium. The sweet and sailing second portion hearkens back to “Blow” on Beyoncé’s 2013 self-titled album. You’d think they shared a sample. I’m glad she recognized this and put the two songs together on her tour.

​The Category Is…"Michael Jackson's 'Moonwalker' (Versatility):" 6.0
 
Beyoncé experimented with a dance record, and it didn’t emit as contrived or ill-fitted. That’s a testament to her flexibility. Renaissance itself is a tasty genre gumbo, but it lacks cross-appeal. A non-explicit version of “Cuff It” is the most suitable for a range of events and social demographics. “Plastic off the Sofa” is a close second.
 
This album isn’t a 'general public' piece. Again, its sound is abrasive and idiosyncratic. Its content is cheeky and culturally-specific. There’s absolutely nothing wrong with speaking to a cohort; I wouldn’t want Renaissance to be any other way. It just doesn’t score high for versatility, is all.
 
A friend of mine thinks the moderate versatility is why Renaissance didn’t win the Grammy Award for Album of the Year. He said, “The board has an assortment of people that are picky eaters. The more universally palatable you are, the more likely you’ll get that trophy.”
 
The Category Is…"Motown Magic (Potential for Timelessness):" 6.5
 
Scoring this category was tricky. Renaissance is a oeuvre that’s refreshed dance sub-genres in the mainstream. With its production quality and futuristic nature, I doubt it’ll ever sound démodé. It has pop culture and socio-political value. The album’s potential to pass the test of time is auspicious from that angle.
 
The reserved vocals and shaky engagement and versatility is what makes things debatable. Records branded as timeless are usually remembered for their winsome sung parts and melodies, and broad application. Renaissance will be a revered LP, but I don’t know if any individual songs will be viewed as etching staples.
 
The Category Is…"'Extra Smooth' Like Aaliyah (Artistic Growth):" 8.0
 
Beyoncé’s career has flourished because she isn’t lazy or complacent. Each of her solo records is vastly different from the last, and she doesn’t get enough props for that. Her artistic self-awareness is high. That’s why she can give variety without coming off fickle or confused. She doesn’t care for following trends or using conventional musical structures. Having grown up watching performers like Michael Jackson, Beyoncé is dedicated to creating collective and immersive listening experiences. She continues to expound on these strengths with Renaissance. The knock is that her essence isn’t as pervading. If someone knew nothing about her and wanted to get acquainted, I wouldn’t suggest this album as 'definitive Beyoncé.'
 
One area where Beyoncé and her projects are stationary is with lyrics. The storytelling should be more expansive and thorough. When shortcuts are taken, passages will be incomplete or have an illogical flow. Widening the topical net is another avenue to improving lyrics. Address the nuances of human emotion: anxieties, types of grief, internal dialogues, existential crises, etc., haha.
 
Going into Acts II and III of Renaissance, I salivate at the rumor they’ll be country and rock records. We already know she’ll hit it out of the park; “Daddy Lessons” and “Don’t Hurt Yourself” were awesome sneak peeks. Hopefully, they won’t be as dark and talk-singy. Emo-Yoncé’s had her run. Let’s have some Sunny D-Yoncé, haha.
 
Now that I’ve measured every inch of Club Renaissance, what do y’all think? Agree? Disagree? Do you have comments, questions, loves, hates, fears?

I've steadily been listening to "Spell My Name" since its release, and it *Chrisette Michele voice* came to me...like an epiphany...that it holds some crucial keys for artists. No, that wasn't a Krucial Brothers/Alicia Keys joke.
 
In the latter half of 2020, Toni Braxton released her tenth studio album, Spell My Name. Though its performance on Billboard’s R&B charts was relatively acceptable (including singles), it didn’t gain much steam overall. Moreover, it didn’t earn any RIAA certifications. It’s a shame the record didn’t have more ears on it. Not only was it of great quality, it presented solutions to a problem many artists encounter.
 
The longer an artist is around, it can become challenging to keep things fresh. There’s a tendency to respond to this by working in extremes. Attempts to be overwhelmingly contemporary and sit at the ‘cool kid’s table’ usually come off as contrived. Shifts in tone are frequently too hard and fast, leading to calls for a return to the old guard. Conversely, sticking to their own status quo garners audience complaints of creative rigidity and datedness. Landing sweetly between the two antipodes is a delicate balancing act. Spell My Name should be considered a blueprint of how to master it.
 
For starters, Braxton doesn’t shy away from her position as an established artist over the age of 50. She doesn’t treat this as something to be ashamed of or camouflaged with Gen Z-targeted gimmicks. Case in point, the title track is about entertaining the affections of a much younger man, and wondering if he can rise to her occasion (i.e. The burgeoning Johnny Yukon, who lent both his vocals and pen to the cut). Further, the demand to map out her name by the letter isn’t just sexual innuendo; it’s a subliminal reminder that she is indeed music royalty. When she activates the lingo and brio of recent eras, it’s in a playful and deliberately campy manner (ex. Repeatedly saying “check it” on “Fallin’,”and over-pronouncing her R’s on “O.V.E.Rr”). She doesn’t try to convince the listener that she’s 'hip.' 

To modernize their sound or vie for commerciality, acts will often have a surplus of album features with the latest 'it' people. It isn't important how seemingly random or ill-fitting the pairing is, and how it might ultimately affect the project. Collaborations should be complimenting and/or elevating, but that isn’t always prioritized. 

​The biggest 'now' figure included on Spell My Name was H.E.R., for the single “Gotta Move On.” She was a suitable selection because the singer, songwriter, and musician is widely considered a more ‘legitimate’ talent than several of those in her cohort. H.E.R’s notoriety or style doesn’t outshine Braxton or ‘make the song,’ especially since she functions solely as a guitarist. The other 20-something around is Yukon, who's too new on the scene to have an imposing presence. Veteran rapper/singer Missy Elliott’s appearance on a version of “Do It” kills multiple birds with one stone. It’s an appeal to the millennials that made Elliott a star, and grew up hearing Braxton. Hip-hop/rap is viewed as inherently current and gritty, so its inclusion provides the novelty desired. An older form of the genre being applied keeps accusations of tacky mainstream pandering at bay. The same even-keelness goes for the up-tempo “Dance.” Its disco vibes aren’t traditional, but it dodges the jam-packed and static robotics of later EDM and club tunes. Closing track “Nothin’” hearkens back to the 50’s and 60’s, but its bluesy feel makes it fashionably vintage.
 
When it comes to her home base of R&B, Braxton keeps it simple and sticks to the foundations. She neither replicates the present (which arguably still holds hip-hop too close to its cheek), or tries to reincarnate her past. By seeking sonic neutrality across the board, she defies the curse of time specificity. Spell My Name is set up to age well; it’s not beholden to 2020. Reaction statements like “I miss old Toni” or “Toni’s so stale” would be less likely.
 
None of this would matter, however, if the writing and production wasn’t so smashing and proficient. Along with Braxton, a few of those on the team are Babyface (of course), Antonio Dixon, Bibi Bourelly, and Paul Boutin. Some of the best records are highly conceptualized. Spell My Name’s content is capsuled around the inner conflicts of someone on the verge of ending their romantic relationship. The battles of decisiveness vs. fearful uncertainty, attachment vs. disdain, and other associated holding patterns are explored. Yet, the lyrics are never a gallimaufry. Balance is sought in this area as well; the lines aren’t inane, nor inscrutable.
 
The emotional nuances of the material were sure to be conveyed musically, as the production is just as tiered. Each instrument, effect, and vocal is organized to be clearly and beautifully heard, and support the theme. Some moments are more intense than warranted even, haha. On "O.V.E.Rr.", the harder, basic rhythms used in today's R&B are enhanced by symphonic accents. The fall of the middle chorus is a particularly gorgeous 17 seconds. Timpani drums are the introduction and exit to a flurry of cascading strings, while synths throb in the distance. Braxton’s pillowy cooing alternates from being forward, to echoing. It’s ‘James Bond soundtrack’ grandiosity takes what could’ve been an ordinary split-up ode to one depicting a war. The background aspects still being omnipresent are part of “O.V.E.Rr’s” glamour. “Happy Without Me” and “Fallin’” (my personal favorite) are also gorgeously orchestrated.  Everything is leveled to where you can really appreciate the layers of the design process. A reviewer from Variety aptly wrote that Spell My Name “sounds expensive.” Elements aren’t competing or overpowering one another. It’s not so stuffed to where only the surface is perceivable, or it’s harsh on the ears. The opposite is more common than it should be.

​Braxton handles the job of being the glue between all the aforementioned facets because she understands a key principle: play to your strengths. She’s known for being a regal and hypnotic actress of song. Her ability to seduce and engage her audience and richly connect to her material is irrepressible. It’s a skill that should never be taken for granted by consumers; some singers struggle to emote their entire careers. Braxton doesn’t just execute the notes on the page. She gives them—and the lyrics—personality with emphasized phrasing and natural expressions (ex. Scoffs, sighs, gasps, and laughter). It turns her performances into a shared experience or conversation with her, instead of something you’re consuming.
 
Spell My Name’s subject matter is the type where you’d normally pick a side: the protagonist is too good for their love interest. Due to Braxton’s communicative technique, you’re as on the fence about her affair as she is. On "Saturday Night," she makes it seem perfectly reasonable to have lust for someone that inserts chaos into your life. It isn’t absurd that the song has such sexy energy beneath its appropriately sad tone (after all, it IS about dysfunction). Braxton can believably bring sultriness to anything. She’s so beguiling, you may not realize that 'money notes' are sparse.
 
Since Braxton is playing to her strengths, there’s confidence and ease in her delivery. There’s no pretentiousness or overcompensating. When one firmly grasps their artistic identity and has a healthy level of comfort in that, their content can be more relatable and efficacious. Their relationship with the listener has the opportunity to be deepened. Authenticity is attractive; it’s the right foot for any project to get off on.
 
Spell My Name is a diamond that will forever be in the rough. Unfortunately, its splendor won’t be fully recognized by the masses. Its lessons are straightforward, but they’d be beneficial if learned. Once the cycle of fighting yourself as a performer begins, it’s difficult to stop it. Meanwhile, your fans can become frustrated or disenchanted. Even worse, you may get disenchanted with yourself and with recording altogether. Remembering creative values and skills can be a compass when there’s a loss of direction. In addition, being dedicated to course correction and improving weaknesses.

​As far as being trendy, that’s its own trap. Fads, news cycles, and the public’s points of interest are fleeting by default. Social media hastens an already short shelf-life. It can be a powerfully useful tool, but it’s also a saturator. Folks call albums and singles “old,” and request new ones after a few months. One would be chasing their tail trying to stay “relevant.” They’d be susceptible to burnout because they'd have nothing sustaining. A precedent of being the 'in' person disallows for smooth musical experimentation. It’s better to define trends than to follow them. The reverse of this is having a stubborn attitude towards change, growth, and adaptability. You can’t be stuck in your ways or the past. It’ll suggest you have no more to offer. It takes keen discernment of what should be a constant and what’s no longer working to propel yourself forward. Embracing yourself and having periodic fluidity in your music can grant longevity and flexibility, as you move through the epochs of your career.
 
Spell My Name’s lesson for R&B is that it can release itself from the whims of hip-hop by recommitting to its origins and branching out from there. The genre can fully restore itself to one of masterful singers, soulful lyrics, and bravura musicality. These traits happen to be what helped the genus have consistent success in the mainstream. Hip-hop was meant to be invited as a guest into R&B’s residence; now it's  squatting indefinitely. The takeaway for those in any category is to have an objective, and never settle for the bare minimum. Every component must be first-rate. With purpose and merit, one can transcend many of the taut constructs that inhibit ingenuity. It also gives a certain amount of infallibility with criticisms. Whatever holes reviewers or listeners find, your project will be deemed admirable, and it'll stand a chance of making an impact.
 
There are a lot of potholes in the 'creative endurance' road, and Toni Braxton is very familiar with them. For any artists fortunate enough to come across the survival guide that is Spell My Name, it would profit them to take it to heart. 

​Nick Nittoli is carving out his proverbial slice of the pie in Los Angeles as a rapper/singer. Garnering writing and production credits, he's been fortunate enough collaborate with Snoop Dogg, French Montana, and YG, among others. He's also battled it out with other emerging artists on the former Bravo reality series, "Platinum Hit." JSaysOnline.com had a brief chat with Nittoli about his work and what he has in store for listeners.
 
How would you describe your artistry?
 
NN: Pretty different than most. I switch genres on almost every track. I am primarily a hip-hop artist; however, I have released country and R&B albums. I also do pop, and will be adding other genres to my resume soon! I like to keep people on their toes to the point that they never know what to expect when turning on a Nick Nittoli song or album. So, I would describe my artistry as eclectic! 
 
What recording artists are your influences? How are you similar or different from them?
 
NN: I am heavily influenced by Michael Jackson, Eminem, 2Pac, Blink 182, Bush, Nofx, and various others. I think that my music causes social change, and because of that factor, it resembles Eminem and 2pac. I also think that because of how different my music is, it can resemble a lot of different artists all combined into one. I take a bit from all of my influences and kind of make my own thing with it. I think the thing that separates me from these artists is my willingness to experiment, truly dive into different genres, and make people think...keep them guessing as to what's coming next. 

What’s missing from your respective genre(s) that you believe you bring?
 
NN: There is not another hip-hop artist doing what I'm doing right now. No one switches genres successfully. I am also the first artist to place songs on the iTunes Top 40 charts in three different genres (i.e. Metal, R&B, and hip-hop)! I like being unique and different; that's honestly how I have felt my entire life. I want to be the first to do something, and not copy what someone else is doing. It's very important to me to stick out from the pack, and to be a lone wolf. 
 
Editor's Note: JSaysOnline.com did not verify the chart records mentioned.
 
What are the pros and cons of being involved with a reality music competition on television?
 
NN: I think that the pros of being on a reality competition show are that you get an audience that you wouldn't have by just performing live, promoting yourself on Instagram, etc. The whole world can tune in, and you can gain a lot of fans in other countries...However, at the same time, an artist can benefit from having some mystery...That is truly not an option when it comes to being on a television show. You are fully exploited, and the audience needs to know literally everything about you in order to fall in love with your character. 
 
Why should people listen to your music?
 
NN: I think that people should listen to my music because it talks about some serious topics in our society. It's not just music to nod your head to. It really asks you to question things happening in the world. I talk about the deaths of certain celebrities, our government, the food that we eat, aliens, and various other topics that affect a vast amount of human beings on earth. I think that by listening to my music, you can skip a couple of great books that would lead you to the same concept or idea of what I am saying. I also think that consciousness overall is greatly increased by tuning into my music...My main goal is to enlighten people who would not find this information elsewhere. I am also trying to restore the power back to the people...by listening to me, you are strengthening an artist that will give back to the community; not just buy some gold chains and flash them in your face. I'm one of the good guys! 
 
You can learn more about Nick Nittoli and his music at http://www.nicknittoli.com/.

Album Review.
Favorites: Brutal, 1 Step Forward, 3 Steps Back, Deja Vu, Jealousy, Jealousy
Overall: Quintessential pop-rock that offers two inadvertent lessons about life stages and younger artists
 
I remember reading a review dismissing Destiny’s Child’s The Writing’s on the Wall (1999) for being 'teenagerish.' The members of the group were around 18 at the time. Critics applied similar adjectives to Taylor Swift’s early work, who was also a minor when her career started. One of the consistent hypocrisies of the music industry and its realm is regularly shelling out and fixating on adolescent talent, but then lambasting them for speaking from their point of view. Should the artists try to appear or sound more mature, they’ll be accused of being obnoxious, contrived, or inappropriate (this is especially true for girls and young women). Ageist perspectives would swear that these kinds of acts don’t bring much to the table. Moreover, the idealism and sensitivity they tend to have is often perceived as a melodramatic liability. In actuality, it can be an asset.
 
Young singer-songwriters frequently express themselves in an intensely visceral way that seasoned artists are sometimes too calculated to still possess. The best and brightest capture the emotional climate of their station with trenchant poignancy, relatability, and endearing tenderness. Freshly 18, Disney affiliate Olivia Rodrigo joins this fold with her debut, Sour.
 
There’s no shame in Rodrigo’s angst game, as she comes out swinging with the guitar slamming “Brutal.” It’s not even a full three minutes, but it aptly summarizes the common plagues of adolescence (and the early 20’s, haha). She sings of how anxiety, insecurity, stifling expectations, and not being accepted have robbed her of what’s typically deemed 'the golden years.' This is a central theme on the album, second to inaugural heartbreak that’s exacerbated by infidelity suspicions. With co-writers Daniel Nigro, Annie Clark, and Casey Smith, Rodrigo notes how romantic loss often comes with conflicting feelings. For instance, hits “Driver’s License” and “Good 4 U” communicate that abandonment triggers both sadness and fury. The latter sparks pleasant memories of Alanis Morisette’s ‘woman scorned’ anthem, “U Oughta Know,” haha. Across “Enough for You” and “1 Step Forward, 3 Steps Back,” she reckons with the unhealthy amount of self sacrifice and compromise she endured in her relationship. She sings of shape-shifting around the ever-changing moods and needs of her gaslighting lover, who never saw her as fit. Despite acknowledging the mistreatment, she still hopes she achieved a level of fondness and favor in her ex’s eyes (ex. “Happier”). To a degree, she canonizes the affair (ex. “Favorite Crime).
 
Earlier on the album with “Deja Vu,” she diminishes facets of the dynamic that were supposedly special. She suggests they were just wooing tactics her former beau would take to any woman. Sidebar: I enjoy songs that address the rebarbative human tendency to ‘copy and paste’ with relationships. Folks will post like crazy about 'the love of their life' on social media as if they didn’t do that months ago with another person, but I majorly digress, haha. Rodrigo closing her saga with cuts like “Happier” and “Favorite Crime,” infer a regression in mindset. Perhaps this is commentary on the hold of manipulative mates, or the mental seesaw in the aftermath of a split.
 
“Hope Ur Ok” is the only number to separate from Sour’s narratives, being about old [presumably LGBT] friends who she wishes is surviving and thriving in the face of bigotry.

​Sour is a noticeably short 35 minutes, but this is to its benefit. Its lyrics are very literal, largely being without enigmatic or esoteric quality. The vocabulary isn’t that expansive. Metaphors, imagery, and other illustrative literary or writing devices aren’t used much. Had the LP been longer, it might’ve started to be monotonous. This isn’t exclusive to the content; it somewhat extends to the music too. Rodrigo and her producers (Daniel Nigro, Alexander 23, and Jam City) do a lot of things right. Sour is a seamless pop-rock hybrid. Neither end of the genre spectrum is warped or degraded to compliment the other. There’s a sizable palette of live instruments. Varied effects, such as echoes and claps, create texture and ambience. Some tracks change in mood or tempo, adding a little dimension. Its best characteristic is its irony, for providing intrigue and amusement. Cheerful strings and bird chirps accent the record’s mournful and rage-filled odes. The not so happy “Happier” camouflages itself with quintessentially pleasant doo-wop. Its true nature surfaces with dark guitar riffs. “1 Step” interpolates Taylor Swift’s “New Year’s Day,” which leans to the sweeter side of romance. Even with these great components, the vocal melodies are more memorable than the musical ones. The core of each tune is almost too consistent; not many build ups or climaxes. So again, it’s advantageous that the runtime is concise.
 
Rodrigo’s sung delivery isn't loaded with peak and valleys either, but that doesn’t mean it isn’t interesting. While she mostly remains in the middle of her range, she finds ways to put her shades on display and give a thoughtful performance. Wispiness and contrasting richness are strategically placed to contribute to Sour’s aforementioned stylistic hybrid. Her whines and angry projections are controlled and smooth. This hints formal technique is being used, and the listed approaches aren’t recklessly there for an artificial ‘rock feel.’ Her buttery runs and harmonies are subtle, but they satiate the space enough to make a difference. Rodrigo’s vocals are mapped and selective, but it’s not an obstruction to her passion. In all, she leaves the impression that there might be more to her voice than what’s heard on the record.
 
Rodrigo proves that young artists do in fact have something to offer. It’s obvious Sour is her rhythmic journal. However, there are implications for listeners. Adolescence never really ends. She croons about feeling inadequate against unwritten social standards for success. Her ex engaged in psychological warfare before dumping her for someone else, which only fed her complexes. She’s short on authentic and fulfilling connections, and fears rejection. Overwhelmed by what’s going on in her head, it’s hard for her to see anything positive about where she is. Finding the silver lining might only be possible with hindsight…Might. Not only does all this persist in adulthood, it heightens in severity and becomes more intricate. For many, that’s a direct result of events that occurred in childhood or the teen years. Perhaps we’re not as removed from or above it all as we think. Maybe the generational battles wouldn’t be as heated if we stopped turning our noses up at each other, but that’s another conversation. Olivia Rodrigo brought Sour Skittles as an appetizer to the dinner table, and I’m fine with it. Except the red ones; take those out. I don’t like those. 

Album Review & Commentary.
Overall: Slinky R&B rhythms work to cover up questionable messaging and poor content quality.
 
Ariana Grande’s last two albums, Sweetener and Thank U, Next, came on the heels of personal hardships for the singer. Apple Music noted this in a summary for the newest Positions (Deluxe) stating that the release is “lighthearted and playful” in comparison. Evidently, the assigned reviewer wasn’t paying close attention. Underneath an attractive sound is an LP that is bleak artistically and in its messaging.
 
Historically, the lyrical offerings on Grande’s projects aren’t very adroit. They are generally passable at best. However, if there’s been any improvement, Positions is grossly regressive. The content has little to no intellectual or emotional worth; it doesn’t come off like it’s been crafted by highly paid songwriters who are in touch with their feelings. Scribing alongside Grande is Tommy Brown, Victoria Monet, Tayla Parx, and others. The vocabulary is narrow, and apparently, it’s a requirement to have an onslaught of unnecessary expletives. Metaphors and analogies are facile, with no attempt to be particularly clever, funny, insightful, and/or poetic. Sometimes the material is convoluted, mashing different topics together without transitions or connectors. Themes of passion, desire, and romantic trepidation are expressed in an insufferably juvenile way. The voicing is like that of an 18-year-old who thinks they’re so wise and cultivated because they’ve been dating someone for a year and are sexually active. “Six Thirty” plays like the aftermath of a teen pairing’s squabble. “What you gonna do when I’m bored and wanna play video games at 2AM?” is a measuring inquiry. “My Hair” is literally about toying with her tresses. It’s used as a manifestation of intimacy. Lunacy.
 
While Positions isn’t totally without a story direction, it’s so-called ‘happy ending’ and resolve is contradictory and questionable. Listeners are taken through the process of leaving a relationship hurt, and then falling for someone new. There are claims of having self awareness and clarity (ex. “Magic,” “Motive,” “Love Language”), but immature and unhealthy approaches are enacted and/or continued. Despite Grande (or the record’s protagonist) admitting that she hasn’t healed from previous experiences, she presses on with her amorous endeavors (ex. “Off the Table”). The headiness of infatuation and satisfying sex feed immediate thoughts of ‘ever after.’ It’s love at first sight and screw (ex. “Nasty,” “Obvious”).

Ideal love is defined by being the instant remedy to all of each other’s problems and wounds. In the least, provide a long-term ‘feel good’ distraction. Basically, avoiding the responsibility of inner work and giving your prospective partner a job only therapists can perform. The insecurity and codependency that comes with this type of cycle is patent. There’s an abundance of lines where Grande’s ‘auditioning,’ as I call it. She’s eager to demonstrate that she can conform to and meet the needs of her lover, and is the model mate (ex. “Positions,” “West Side”). All of the aforementioned matters culminate in “POV,” which is the closer on the standard edition of the album. Grande sings about having such a lack of self trust and esteem, that she has to rely on the worshipping regard of her significant other to feel valuable. The track is supposed to be sweet and point to a positive conclusion, but really, it’s kind of dismal and sad. To quote RuPaul, “If you can’t love yourself, how in the hell are you going to love somebody else; can I get an ‘Amen’?”

​Album Review.
Favorites: So Bad, Gold
Overall: A seductive musical narrative that's actually R&B, and not diet hip-hop.
 
The amount of unsung and/or underrated music acts is so innumerable, there’s a whole television series dedicated to profiling them. If an artist doesn’t have a proper time in the sun, it’s usually for one of three causes. One, they sabotaged themselves. Two, their professional team stifled them, or three, audiences were indifferent toward them for some reason. For Joanna “JoJo” Levesque, it was option two.
 
If you’re not already familiar, JoJo rose to fame at age 13, being known as “the little white girl with a big, soulful voice.” She was steered into the pop market, and hits like “Leave (Get Out)” and “Too Little, Too Late” helped her become the youngest solo act to top the Billboard Hot 100. The attention lead to film opportunities, which her recording label reportedly wasn’t thrilled about. This was just the beginning of her troubles with Blackground Records. As the company folded, JoJo found herself locked into a contract and unable to release material. A decade would pass before she could let anything out commercially, losing critical years. Aside from die-hard fans, listeners who knew her had the impression she left the industry. Fresh ones couldn’t discover her because her work wasn’t available on streaming platforms (she re-recorded songs to get around this). She eventually signed with Atlantic Records, but her time with them was brief, as she desired more "ownership." After developing her own imprint, Clover Music, she ultimately took her business to Warner.
 
Promotional single “Joanna” arrived with a visual in October 2019. In it, JoJo sings from the perspective of critics and disgruntled long-term fans. People bum rush past her, trying to get to a glitzy star in a limo. She concludes with “You were supposed to be somebody, you were supposed to make more money, make us proud...nobody likes you in Massachusetts, you should just hurry and drop your new shit,” wearing a sly grin. She was putting followers on notice that she wasn’t giving up and she’d be making her third major attempt at standing in the sun.
 
JoJo’s stepped out with Good to Know (stylized as good to know), which chronicles her seesaw between maladaptive coping behaviors and those that are constructive. She and the production team did an excellent job personifying the misleading and insidious lure of vices. Lido, Doc McKinney, Noise Club, and others gave sound to self-destruction masked with pleasure and hedonism from moment one. Opener “So Bad” has seductive, yet equally ominous energy. On the infidelity tune, a muffled fluttering piano rises to a dramatic radiating bass, layered with yowling synths and womanly moans. JoJo herself convincingly plays two parts. In the chorus, she's a confident mistress who’s thrilled by hiding in plain sight. In the verses, she emits desperation and insatiability. She pleads for more attention, and is adamant she’s the best option for her pursuit. 

​She maintains the postures of assuredness and frailty for the duration of the album, and the music stays in character as well. Deep bass and dorian to minor keys and chords from pianos, synths, and guitars preserve the 'dark'  feel. Supplemental adornments include clustered and echoing harmonies, slurred bell synths, chimes, and timpani-like drums. The sonic quality is high and surrounding, making it easy to be immersed into Good to Know’s world. Notes about the stealthy dangers of intemperance certainly come across. For instance, “Gold” is so honeyed and sapid, you forget it’s about unhealthy intimacy. Hearing the phrase “love me alone” is a reminder, but you could be too caught up in the auditory arousal to really internalize it. It’s criminally short, but that almost two minutes and a half is heavenly.
 
Structurally, many tracks have introductory build-ups and quieter exits that put vocals in the forefront. JoJo uses different sectors of her tone to both convey emotion and demonstrate her versatility. On one cut, she’ll flow from husky to velvety, and feathery to robust. Her highs are just as full and powered as her lows. Rather than be ostentatious or overstated to exhibit her skill, she does so through a subtle approach. The way she plants her effortless runs, flourishes, and operatic occasions, it’s as if they’re Easter eggs (ex. "Man"). Recognizing them over recurrent listens makes for a fun aural experience.
 
JoJo’s writing is straightforward, but tender-hearted. Portions are like a journal entry or printed appeal to someone. Others are kind of crassly frank, such as “Comeback,” featuring Tory Lanez (it’s arguable the language is purposeful on that specific track though). Some of the LP’s co-lyricists are Lauren LaRue, Caroline Ailin, Lowell, and Nat Dunn.

​“Comeback” is one of a few songs that point out a breakup as the root of the binge on sex and substances. This removes the entertainment industry as the culprit, as implied by “Joanna,” which isn’t even on the album. While Good to Know unfortunately doesn’t satisfy the curiosity left by the teaser single, it still provides a story you can get invested in. It comes complete with a cliffhanger. On the final “Don’t Talk Me Down,” she begs her former lover not to return. She knows she’s liable to give in to his wiles. With such an unsteadiness there, you sit wondering about the outcome.
 
The physical edition of the LP is less mysterious, with a pocketful of subtractions and elucidating additions. JoJo gets a second verse on “Comeback,” replacing Tory Lanez’s rap. “Bad Habits,” the precursor to “So Bad,” clearly states the project’s thesis. Closing things out is “Proud,” JoJo’s love letter to her mother for encouraging words. Its discussion of personal worth and care suggest the songstress was able to stabilize herself after distress. This is certainly a contrast from the 'flailing in the wind' ending of “Don’t Talk Me Down.” Cloudy transitions between numbers are also involved, contributing to the aura. Given the influence of these changes, I’m extremely curious about the motive to exclude them from the digital set. It simply could be a consumer purchase incentive. Creatively, the intent might’ve been to open the door for varied interpretations.
 
Whether or not R&B is 'dead' has been long questioned. The debate partially stems from the genre’s adoption of traits from hip-hop/rap. Another factor is the seemingly lowered standards of the music business. Artist development and support isn’t what it used to be. The skills of talent are limited and pale in comparison to their predecessors. JoJo’s Good to Know shows there are signs of life in the field. It doesn’t stray far from the R&B palette, and it largely avoids trap-hop or anything adjacent. It’s artificial effects aren’t overbearing, and authentic instrumentation is highlighted. The lyrics aren’t odiously crude, surface, and/or aloof. JoJo fulfills her job description as a singer. There’s nothing basic or lazy about what she does. The album has no ‘fluff pieces;’ each track is likable and can stand on its own. The only atrocity is that the LP is 30 minutes and isn't longer.

​Album Review.
Favorites: Kissing Other People, Older Than I Am, Since I Was a Kid, Goodnight
Overall: An endearing debut; full-hearted lyrics and vocal are supported with ambient alt-pop production.
 
Before the FOX network premiered Empire, ABC had a similar country incarnation called Nashville. It had better writing and music, but I digress. The cast included two charming youth actresses who were sisters in real life: Lennon and Maisy Stella. I was enchanted by their beauteous harmonies, and impressed with their level of talent, stage presence, and emotionality. It was a pleasure watching them continue to develop as performers over the show’s six year run (the last two seasons were on CMT). Needless to say, I was excited when Lennon (the older Stella) announced that she’d be releasing material.
 
The succinct Love, Me EP arrived in November 2018; about four months after Nashville wrapped. While it was a departure from the acoustic-guitar heavy country-folk Stella did on the television drama, the pathos was retained. Infectious alt-pop with a melancholic underbelly is what she evidently sought to create. Love, Me’s full-length follow up, Three. Two. One. was titled to note a countdown to her complete artistic unveiling. “This is me releasing myself from the pressure of prior expectations...three, two, one, I’m diving in...” she explained to Apple Music.
 
Three. Two. One. definitely expands Love Me’s view, being more experimental and a deeper plunge into a crestfallen abyss. Lennon’s lyrics tell the tale of a young woman (she’s 20) trying to prevent being broken by life’s first waves of hardships and heartaches. It details a struggle to maintain innocence and hope, and use the best of limited wisdom. Words about sadistic relationships (ex. “Games”), growing pains (ex. “Since I Was a Kid”), and familial fractures and bonds (ex. "Weakness (Huey Lewis)") are lifted off the page by her wistful vocal performance. Her natural rasp and wispiness contribute to her affect, rather than restrict it (which is the case for many artists with similar tones). When she leans into a smoother slide, there’s a lusciousness you wouldn’t mind hearing more of though (ex. “Goodnight”). The way she captures the fragility and vulnerability of this stage of aging is a testament to how in tune she is with her feelings and expression. Some of those co-writing with Stella are Caroline Ailin, Simon Wilcox, Phamous, and Ruslan Odnoralov of the band Everfound. Only two songs are without Stella’s penmanship.

​Producers like Malay, Sam de Jong, and Wynne helped lock in the downcast mood with their end of the work. Whimsical features swarm around echoed harmonies and dark, winding synths (ex. “Fear of Being Alone”). It musically projects Stella’s narrative of interrupted innocence with success. Elements are assorted and manipulated in a manner that’s almost playful. It seems Malay and company had fun putting everything together. Stella’s affinity for sounds from prior eras is indicated throughout. For instance, “Pretty Boy” reaches for 60’s-70’s folk, while “Bend Over Backwards” picks from 80’s club rock. “Save Us” is explicit with its frame of reference, being a sample of the 90’s hit “I Love You, Always Forever” by Donna Lewis. These tracks utilize and pay proper homage to the past, but they still have a tasty, contemporary twist. Stella’s fantastic 2019 single “Bitch (Takes One to Know One)” does the same.
 
Three. Two. One. is capable of settling in your subconscious, but it takes a few listens for that to happen. It doesn’t entertain traditional pop as much as Love, Me did, so it’s less catching. Cuts such as “Kissing Other People,” “Golf on TV,” and “Jealous” aren’t ill-fitting on the record, but it’s obvious they were made to be promotional singles. They’re especially inviting. The first two have secondary renditions. “Kissing Other People's” weepy acoustic partner rivals the original and is available separately. “Golf on TV’s” album version is noticeably without JP Saxe, whose presence gives the song a boost.
 
Aside from this hiccup of sorts, Lennon Stella has gotten off on a good foot. Her sincerity and connection to her content permitted her to come into her own from Nashville kink-free. Three...two...one...she’s ready for launch.

​Album Review.
Overall: Not a promising sign that depth and variation in subject matter and musical style is on the way.
 
Burgeoning artists wait with bated breath for their 'breakout' year, and that was 2019 for Houston rapper Megan Thee Stallion. People were taken with the tenacious confidence that fueled her fiery, unabashedly sexual, and often amusing rhymes. She especially found favor with some for talking about men in the same dismissive manner women are discussed in hip-hop/rap. Her energy is intriguingly equal parts commanding and congenial, drawing listeners further in. Her likability factor is the kind that easily spurs viral hashtags and challenges on social media (ex. #HotGirlSummer and the current #SavageChallenge).
 
That isn’t to say her metal doesn’t need polishing though. Some followers desired to hear vulnerability; a request Megan repeatedly vowed to fulfill with her upcoming debut album (as of now, there are only mixtapes and EPs). A creative weakness that I’ve observed is topical and musical redundancy. There’s a lot riding on a first LP for any artist, much less one with a preliminary mainstream fan-base that has expectations.
 
To hold eager and inquiring minds over, Megan released Suga, yet another EP. It’s also a presumed retort against 1501 Certified Entertainment, a label she’s in a dispute with. It consists of songs she recorded while working on the album. It’s named after one of her three ‘alter-egos.’ On wax, there’s no discernible difference between the ‘personalities.’ This makes the mention of them useless and annoying, but that’s a rant for another day.
 
If the Suga EP is an appetizer, the main course of a full length project may only be mildly satisfying. Lyrically, Megan mostly sticks to what’s made her popular so far. She tries to respond to pleas for depth and content diversity, but just goes slightly beneath the surface. You get the sense that she’s not totally comfortable with it yet. The unconvincing and awkward “What I Need” is proof of that. It’s no wonder it was shoved to the end of the tracklist, as it contradicts Megan’s detached attitude about romantic relationships on previous songs. Further, it’s conceding and self-deprecating. She begs for the forgiveness of a love interest, and frames herself as erratic and emotionally unstable.

​A byproduct of misogyny and patriarchy, women are often pegged as irrational and unstable when they react to negative behaviors by male counterparts. This is touched on with “B.I.T.C.H.,” when Megan discusses her resistance to chasing partners and being controlled. The tone of “What I Need” is arguably oppositional to this, and therefore puzzling. It isn't necessary to be submissive or less assertive in order to demonstrate feeling or 'vulnerability.' Nor is singing, particularly if it’s not your forte.
 
Unsurprisingly, Megan is more believable when expressing frustration and detailing her aspirations. On “Ain’t Equal” and “Savage,” she’s talks about being disinterested in rap rivalries, and how she’s fatigued with those who fancy themselves her adversaries. She also shoots off about men who’ve sought to dictate her life and career. “Stop Playing” and “Crying in the Car” note her disenchantment with pretentious figures, and former friends accusing her of changing post-fame. She hopes to stay focused on work to cope, and wants to progress. A less guarded and simplistic exploration of these matters (and then some) may provide the type of ‘peeling back of layers’ people are looking for. This reminds me: it seems Megan’s freestyles are more pointed and impressively sketched.
 
On the music page, there’s still a lot of generic, bass-heavy rhythms that sound like they’re from a preloaded software kit. The G-Funk-esque “Hit My Phone” is a refreshing moment (sidebar: it makes me think of Snoop Dogg’s “Let’s Get Blown” too). Suga’s producers include J. White Did It, Helluva, The Neptunes and Timbaland. The latter two are known for being inventive, so it’s a little nonplussing that the EP didn’t have brighter spots. 
 
Suga is catchy at times, but it isn’t heartening evidence there’s more artistically to Megan Thee Stallion than what meets the ear.

Album Review.
Overall: 'Run of the mill' contemporary album; Bieber's hiatus didn't cultivate artistic growth
 
Justin Bieber’s released his first full-length album in almost five years, and called it Changes. Between the time gap and title, one might expect thoughtful lyrics and indications of artistic growth. Perhaps something stylistically different or musically experimental would be in store. Not for Bieber. For him, it’s business as usual.
 
All is more or less the same in every area. To start with the subject matter, it treks the familiar path of eager lust and love. Any mentions of life transitions are vague or spurious. For instance, he professes “...I'm going through changes; don’t mean that I'll change” on the namesake track, but there’s no clarity on what adjustments he’s experiencing. Further, how they’re impeding his efforts  to be the “best” he can for his partner.
 
On the opening “All Around Me,” he sings the following about a mate: “Never thought I could ever be loyal to someone other than myself, I never thought I could ever be a spoiler, guess anything is possible with your help, anything’s possible since you made my heart melt.” These lines are supposed to be romantic and demonstrate his personal development, but they do the opposite. Instead of taking responsibility for his lack of integrity in previous relationships, he insinuates the cause of his behavior was a woman failing to be 'the right one'. This is obnoxious, and certainly doesn’t signify maturation.
 
The conceptual issues aside, a few numbers are written on an intermediate level. Others are more on the juvenile side (ex. “Intentions”). Several of Bieber’s co-scribes also have production credits, including The Audibles team, HARV, Joshua Gudwin, and Sasha Sirota. His go-to guy, Jason “Poo Bear” Boyd, leads.
 
The rhythms of contemporary R&B/hip hop rule the album. The latter 30% shoots for sentimentality with plenty of acoustic guitars and sappy content. Both portions suffer from repetition. While a handful of cuts are moderately appetizing, there’s too much similarity between them. Additionally, there’s little musicality. The instrumentation and arrangements are sparing. All this causes the record to feel lengthy, when it’s only 51 minutes.
 
Vocally, it seems Bieber hasn’t continued to perfect his skills. You can’t hear any enrichment, and his falsetto sounds weak. His performance on the LP is without character and emotion.
 
The deficiencies of Changes make it 'run of the mill'. Coming from a popular act after half a decade, shouldn't it be more than that?