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.

I will forever be grateful to Mr. Bill Condon, the director/screenwriter who brought DreamGirls-- one of the few all-black Broadway musicals--to the silver screen in 2006. As many other black children born in the 1980's, I grew up hearing Jennifer Holliday's puissant performance of  "And I Am Telling You, I'm Not Going." It was a definitive piece of music; it was in the vocal bible. It's what you sung if you wanted to prove you could blow a door down and emote, hence it being a go-to audition selection on programs like American Idol (oh, Idol; we'll get to them in a minute). For a while, I thought it was an album-cut of Holliday's. When I got older and learned it was from a historic, Tony award-winning, girl-group musical that mirrored The Supreme's story, I quickly went from being ecstatically curious (this was right up my music nerd alley) to heartbroken. From what I gathered, there hadn't even been a VHS release of DreamGirls. What were the chances I'd ever see what it was like in all its glory? I was overcome with rapture when I heard a film adaptation was coming: "What?! That's even better! There's so much they can do in a movie that they can't onstage! There's going to be effects! And my queen diva (i.e. Beyoncé) is going to be Deena Jones?!! I can't stand this!"
 
It seemed that there was destiny (no Bey pun intended) in the air surrounding the project. Entertainment mogul and DreamGirls rights-holder, David Geffen, turned down adaptation offers for years. The infinitesimal amount that gained the slightest steam swiftly cooled off. Condon long fantasized about doing the musical, but reportedly didn't think he'd have a shot with Geffen, especially since he hadn't directed a conversion before and the majority of his resume consisted of anything but Broadway (he wrote the screenplay for Chicago in 2002). A casual conversation about Chicago with producer Laurence Mark led to a lunch date with Geffen, who stiffly reiterated his hesitance at scheduling. The immovable Geffen granted Condon his wish after hearing a roughly 10-minute description of Condon's vision.
 
Beyoncé Knowles' creative collaborator and choreographer, Frank Gatson, supposedly prophesied that she was Deena somehow, when she was 16. Jennifer Hudson had little notoriety and no significant acting credits then, but she beat out over 750 actresses for the essential part of Effie White...Holliday's role. Hudson's claim-to-fame was Season 3 of Idol in 2004, of which she didn't fare too well. She had to be salvaged by Randy Jackson as a "Wild Card" pick, only to eliminated again and place 7th. Like Effie, she was about to get a triumphant second wind. It might have just been extra gravity that she had the same first name and initials as her predecessor, she and Knowles were born 4 days apart in September the year DreamGirls debuted in 1981 (third "Dream" Anika Noni Rose's birthday is September 6, 1972), and the film was set for theater release on December 25, 2006...exactly 25 years and 5 days after the stage production. Sparkling fairy-dust all around, DreamGirls was revived to cast its spell on a new generation, and I was surely bewitched, bothered and bewildered. It was everything I dreamed (pun totally intended) it would be. So, in commemoration (I can't believe it's been a decade already), here are things I love and observed about one of my favorite movies. 

The Aesthetic Was Magical Mr. Mistoffelees
Part of what makes DreamGirls so intoxicating is its dazzling and meticulous aesthetic. From the opening scene, everything flashes, shimmers and gleams. Elements like spinning mirrors/reflections, glitter and snapping bulbs create this sense of magic that's used to heighten and emphasize parts of the story, entrapping the viewer. Some of the most enchanting numbers are the title song and "I'm Not Going," of course. The Dreams' first performance is announced over rumbling drums and harking horns, as they appear in an iconic pose under a spotlight on a rotating platform. The angle is at such a distance and the ladies are so frozen still, it's as if they're music box figurines. When they shuffle out on stage, I could just die. It's everything I love about pop-divadom and girl-groups: precision, glamour and infectious tunes. While Deena delightfully twirls and croons "All you have to do is dream," the audience fades and all you see are a bevy of lights that look like stars. The Dreams go back into formation (I had to say that, haha) at the conclusion, and a shining press montage begins to signify their stardom. It's so beautiful and fantastic. "I'm Not Going" marks Effie's heartbreaking descent from the group. People she's known since childhood have abandoned her, and they vanish between mirrors like ghosts. She begins to plea with Curtis. It's hard to watch because you know she's been in love by herself the whole time, and he doesn't know she's pregnant. Curtis dashes out, and she's left pronouncing "you're gonna love me!" to an empty ballroom. The space becomes shadowy and hollow, with single beams highlighting her face or outlining her body, as she grips her growing belly with anguish. It's incredible how it underscores both her loneliness and defiance. In a symbolic blink, the camera pans away from her mid-note to gold curtains, fireworks and The Dreams in stance with their replacement. They not-so-ironically sing a song that has the main lyric of "Love, love me baby, love, love me, child." In the finale, the group reunites with Effie for their farewell show. The movie closes with them in one last pose, encircled by silver glitter that turns to blue, with an overlaying "twinkling" sound effect for the directing/producing credit. The next thing we see is a close-up of Deena and Effie holding hands as teens, initiating pop-art-like collage frames for the cast/crew credits. Hudson appears last for a classic "Introducing..." roll, designed for thunderous applause. These are just a few examples. If love is in the details, DreamGirls is cupid. Even the menu on the DVD is entertaining and visually captivating.

 Album Review.
Favorites: Pray You Catch Me, Daddy Lessons, Sandcastles, Freedom
Dislikes: 6 Inch, Sorry,  All Night
Overall: Though a little inconsistent and melodically dry, it's her most emotive work and first fable

When Beyoncé surprise-released a self-titled record in 2013, it was praised for allegedly being raw, philosophical and individually ground-breaking. Some people called it her Thriller (Michael Jackson's iconic album, of course). I shook my head and rolled my eyes at these adjectives and notions; it was like I was the only one who could tell the purse was knockoff Versace. With popular music, all you have to do is put explicit sexuality and language over tunes that wouldn't normally be considered radio-friendly and voila! False sense of authenticity and innovation. Luckily for Bey, she got 1,000 additional bonus points because the project came unannounced and she hadn't sung about sperm, surfboarding, or (vicariously) used the word "feminist" yet (it's fascinating how an album that features a rap verse likening violence to sexual performance and lyrics such as "I did this all for you boy, just come my way...I just want to be the girl you like" was called her most feminist one, but okay). Credit was given when it wasn't due. She hadn't truly challenged herself, taking a textbook route to liven things up. "Oh, but all the themes!" You mean the conflicting assortment of concepts that were underdeveloped because the writing and organization had holes? "Oh, but the music is so different!" It is on every record (something she should get more credit for). "Oh, but she gave us videos with it!" There was a video anthology for 2006's B'Day. After the word-vomit and gothic ratchetry that was BEYONCÉ, my hunger pains for certain things from my fave worsened. I didn't want her to just be known as a great entertainer, but a great artist too. I wanted her to rise to her own occasion and potential. I had developed a wish-list; among my desires was heartfelt, thoughtful lyrics, topic diversity and an all-lady team of producers/writers to really get a female perspective (I remember a behind-the-scenes clip where Pharrell told her she'd free all the women with "Rocket." How in the hell would he know what would free us?). Though February's "Formation" had aspirations of honoring black culture, majority of the lines were irrelevant to that cause and kind of ridiculous. Additionally, the trap beat and throbbing bass triggered my self-titled post-traumatic stress. I tried to hold onto my mild optimism that an upgraded BEYONCÉ was on the horizon for her 6th LP, and that's what we got... legit Versace.

​Set on the aphorism of "when life serves you lemons, make lemonade," (as you will hear delivered by Jay-Z's grandmother), Beyoncé presents her first narrative, bringing back warm memories of Destiny's Child's Destiny Fulfilled. Lemonade's trajectory, however, isn't as victorious and joyous. It's an acutely desolate voyage through the experience of infidelity, each song exploring various emotional stages, like unease, paranoia, inferiority, fury and longing. These stages are broken down and expounded on in the partnering mini-film of the same title (aired on HBO on 4/23), where her main character's micro dilemma is used to discuss interrelated macro issues of gender and family, like generational abuse, unfaithfulness and paternal abandonment. Touched on are the sacrifices and compromises women make to be considered more desirable, the bullets they bite (either to survive or retain what society says should be important to them) and how their contributions are often taken for granted and disrespected. This is brought to life by the beautiful and gut-wrenching poetry of young Kenyan-born Somali author Warsan Shire, who became the Young Poet Laureate of London in 2014. The assisting imagery is nothing short of compelling and complex as well. There's a suicide scene with Beyoncé jumping off a rooftop in the first 5 minutes, at the conclusion of the opening track "Pray You Catch Me." Unlike most scenes of this kind, we see every inch of her fall, to the point I turned away because I thought they were going to show the land (she alights in a body of water, transitioning to the next section). I thought "Okay...this is going to be intense." Nature, tribal, African, historical and religious symbols are threads, but references to New Orleans and black southern ethos dominate, much akin to the "Formation" video. The intent to speak specifically to black women and their walk is apparent, but aside from the talent being entirely African-American and female, the emphasis is most pronounced with a Malcolm X speech excerpt ( "The most disrespected...unprotected...neglected person in America is the black woman") and appearances by the mothers of Trayvon Martin, Eric Garner and Michael Brown, who have yet to see justice for the murders of their sons. Many other moments, like cameos by athlete Serena Williams and actresses Zendaya Coleman, Quvenzhané Wallis and Amandla Stenberg--all of whom have faced racially-charged criticism--are more subtle (the common denominator between them may not instantly occur to the mind, for example). Succeeding this sequence is the second-to-last poem. A recipe for lemonade is given and the following is recited: "Grandmother, the alchemist, you spun gold out of this hard life, conjured beauty from the things left behind...discovered the antidote in your own kitchen...you passed these instructions down to your daughter, who then passed it down to her daughter." It's striking commentary: black women come out of the womb cursed to a life of lemons, left-overs and scraps barely suitable to be called such, but something's missing if this is the thesis of which this entire project is laid (after all, there is no song called "Lemonade").

Rock&Rant-Quick rants about music.
By Eddie J., Contributing Writer

So, anytime a hip-hop/rap or R&B artist who may or may not have some kind of credibility as a lyricist releases a new record, these click-bait "X Amount of Writers are Credited on ____'s New Album" articles always seem to pop up. The purpose is usually to subliminally invalidate the artist's skill-set and fuel debates on whether they're talented or not. It's been done with Kanye West (The Life of Pablo had 103 writers), Beyoncé (Lemonade=72 writers) and now Drake (Views=81 writers). That sounds like a lot of Pablos, views and gallons of lemonade, but hold up! There's a little technicality to be mindful of. Not even half of the individuals listed did any literal writing. To be honest, I wouldn't be surprised if no more than 10 people actually assisted. Let me explain...
 
Often in hip-hop/rap and R&B, there's this cute thing called sampling that happens, where portions of a song by someone else are mixed in. When this is done, the song and its original writers typically have to be cited for legality's sake (e.g., "This song contains replayed elements from 'You Tried It' by Tamar Braxton"). Those few of us who still buy physical copies (and read liner notes) and others who frequent Wikipedia, see these sample lists. The remaining majority who don't are prime takers of the click-bait and pass it along to the other fish that such and such artist doesn't write their own rhymes or can't stand on their own.
 
Take Drake's "U with Me" (featured on Views) for example. It contains samples of "What These B*tches Want" and an interpolation of "How's It Goin' Down," both by DMX. Breaking this down, "What These B*ches Want" was written by Earl Simmons (DMX's real name), Mark Andrews, Tamir Ruffin and Phillip Weatherspoon. "How's It Goin Down" was written by DMX and Anthony Fields. When you remove those names from "U With Me" in the credits, you have only Drake, PARTYNEXTDOOR, Dave Goode and the producers: 40, Kanye West, DJ Dahi, AxlFolie and Vinylz. 13 writers just went down 8.
 
This brings me to my next point: also in hip-hop music, producers are almost always included as songwriters in the notes. This is probably in part to how hands-on producers are in creating the music or melodic ideas the artist uses. Taking into account how limited credits are in showing the true extent of each person's contribution, a "producer" can be a composer, someone who programmed the drums, or made with the chorus melody that the song was developed around. In that case, it makes sense to consider this kind of work "writing." However, this doesn't mean that Drake, Nicki Minaj or Kanye West are sitting in a room full of 10 other people taking different bits and pieces of lyrics to make a song. These times are occasional, and rarely involve more than 2 or 3 people tops, which is the average amount of writers on a song in any genre.
 
Finally, some rappers are simply best at their primary job of rapping and need to bring in help for choruses, hooks and catchy moments in their verses. Just because one can receive points on a song for doing this, it doesn't mean the artist they worked for is lacking talent or capability. It's assumed that hooks are easy to form, but it requires a particular skill. It's fairly uncommon in the realm of hip-hop/rap that artists can come up with great hooks naturally because their focus is choosing a topic, inventively approaching said topic, punch-lines, voice inflections/delivery, rhyme structure/pattern and verse variation. It may take a village for your favorite song or album to be made, but that never has anything to do with how good or bad the artist is at lyricism or overall. So feel free to take this red pill with a tall glass of lemonade, and enjoy the views.

After "changing the world with that digital drop" by releasing her 5th LP BEYONCÈ out of nowhere in December 2013 and causing a frenzy, many wondered how pop priestess Beyoncè would follow up promotionally. The answer was simpler than imagined: put out a (presumed) 1st single and video spontaneously. On the eve of her Superbowl 50 appearance with Coldplay and Bruno Mars, came "Formation" (February 6). There is much to be praised and there's much to be disappointed by. "Formation" is delectably rich in black cultural symbols from the southern, New Orleans and LGBT communities, presenting them in an exalted space, as they should be. This is intertwined with references to some of the greatest post-2000 tragedies of the race, the Hurricane Katrina response and law enforcement violence. For example, voice-over audio from New Orleans social media figure Messy Mya (who was murdered in 2010) and bounce music originator Big Freedia is melded with images of a graffiti wall that reads "Stop Shooting Us," a black male child dancing in front of a cop-squad and Beyoncè laying atop a drowning police car. She proclaims "My daddy Alabama, mama Louisiana, you mix that Negro with that Creole-make[s] a Texas bamma, I like my baby['s] hair with baby hair and afros, I like my Negro nose with Jackson Five nostrils, earned all this money, but they never take the country out me; I got hot sauce in my bag, swag."
 
This "Say it out it loud, I'm black and I'm proud" (a James Brown anthem) moment is an important one, both at large and for Beyoncé. Something like this is rarely done in pop, an arena primarily focused on messages that can be absorbed by the general populous for the sake of commerciality; a populous that just so happens to be predominately white. Beyoncé could have initiated a charge for more of this in the genre and a creative shift for herself, as this is her most blatantly socio-political statement. In an atmosphere where racial tension and the challenging/questioning of blackness is back on front-page news, this kind of move to add to and further the discussion, and encourage pride in heritage is necessary and valued. That said, where "Formation" falls significantly short of its glory is in the most crucial place: the lyrics. Remove the aforementioned quote and all you have is overly-repetitious braggadocio that didn't require much brain-power to conceive and barely has anything to do with the point she was trying to convey. The song cannot stand on its own; the visuals did the heavy lifting. In music, visuals are meant to accentuate, not do all the speaking and work for you. If someone were to just read the lyrics or hear the track by itself (as some people I know did), the meaning could easily be lost in translation, defeating the entire purpose. Everyone knows that lyrics are the heartbeat of a piece; it's what stands no matter how or by whom a tune is delivered or performed. They're what's quoted and tattooed on bodies. Beyoncé took this powerful concept and rested it on ONE refrain; this occasion is too momentous to be effectuated in such a surface, half-done and lazy manner. Sam Cooke's "A Change is Gonna Come," Stevie Wonder's "Heaven Help Us All" and Nina Simone's "Young, Gifted and Black" (which all are still applicable today, unfortunately) are classic staples because they really tapped into the minority experience and the anguish of the period. Bey missed a 24-karat gold opportunity to give a millennial testimony; like, she could've actually talked about police brutality. She could've made it even more personal and addressed issues that have directly affected her, such as racial politics in the music industry or white feminism's ever-active attack on her and other black female icons. If we're going to "Say it Loud," let's really do it. 

Since Nicki Minaj's video for "Feeling Myself" premiered on TIDAL on May 18th, I've watched it probably...I don't have a figure--numerous times, I've watched it numerous times, haha. Maybe I've replayed it because it's fresh Beyoncé crack (she's on the song, in case you live under a rock and didn't know that). Maybe I have because it's fresh Pink Print crack (Minaj's most recent album; again, in case you live under a rock and didn't know that); she did a lot of promotion around the initial release and then kind of left things for dead. Either way, the video gave me so much life that I could make this list and had a really nice dream about Onika (Minaj's given name; I'm being considerate of those who live under rocks) that was sadly cut short by consciousness. So, in no particular order, here are my top 10 favorite things about the "Feeling Myself" video:

1. It Wasn't What You'd Expect
Giving the "Feeling Myself" title, the song's sexual references and it's harder-than-softer style, one might have expected a dark and tough video with plenty of skin and scenes to be blurred or edited out. In a pleasantly surprising twist, Minaj and King Bey went for bright, colorful, fun, silly, and hilarious BFF-ery that we mortals can merely fantasize about. If only we could look that cool being that corny. I loved the candid and unrehearsed feel; though it would've been nice to have a little more going on in some shots besides them playing in their hair and caressing their curves.

2. "It's Dope, Nicki!"
At the beginning of the video, we get set footage of them doing the song's opening lines outside of the Coachella road sign. What cracks me up is that the director yells "It's dope, Nicki!" even though she's just cutely posing while Beyoncé is the one working the camera. I'm sure it was a status update, but it was still a funny irony.

3. Is That Bubblicious Gum??!
I can't get over how freakin' cute OBeyKa's (I could call them NickOncé, but that's too obvious) candy exchange was. It was like a scene straight off the playground. Nicki hungrily chomps into a sweet treat that Beyoncé's eyes glimmer with hope is either Bubblicious gum or Now and Later candy. In child-like tones, Nicki confirms it's the latter and asks Bey if she wants some, to which she instantly replies "Yeah." Adorbs. I need a gif.

Somewhere between Sunday night (March 29) and early Monday afternoon, thousands of social media users changed their profile pictures to splashes of turquoise blue and trending #TIDALforALL simply because their music faves (like Beyonce`, Nicki Minaj and Kanye West) did it and/or told them to. People were literally talking of revolutions, movements and change, knowing nothing more than Jay-Z purchased a music streaming service from a Swedish company called Aspiro (which technically was underway back in January). Some didn't even know that much. That was the first eye-roll I had for this news; people are so quick to bandwagon. They knew nothing, but were on board. Groupthink, blind allegiance and stupid human behavior aside, I looked forward to hearing more because given the acquisition and who was involved, I assumed TIDAL would be an awesome, artist-friendly answer to similar services like Spotify, that have been criticized for giving a severely small financial return to the artists they feature (I was partially right, but more on that in a moment). Heightening the hype was this dramatic, star-studded trailer (a freaking trailer; one that seemed ridiculous after the so-called roll-out), building up to the March 30th press conference where all would be revealed and all questions would be answered. We were on the cusp of  "turning the tide and making music history;" it was "the beginning of the new world," as West touted on Twitter. We all know how Yeezy can exaggerate.

Then, a funny thing happened on the way to innovation. Funny as in weird, not funny haha. Jay-Z and his Justice League of recording artists (including Madonna and Rihanna) signed a declaration (that no one saw the text of), said little and then dipped. The conference was short and horribly bereft of information. The central additional thing we learned was that TIDAL is artist-owned (equity stake was offered) and "combines the best high fidelity sound quality, high definition music videos and expertly curated editorial" for $9.99 and $19.99 (for uncompressed CD quality sound) a month. So...does every subscription dime go to the artists? Is there a significant difference in audio between the subscription options? How large is TIDAL's catalog? Who shot J.R.? How many licks does it take to get to the center of a lollipop? Hardly anything was answered and based on what was told, TIDAL was a shockingly unremarkable, more expensive (a negative consumer buzz word) service. "The new world" was a duplicate of the old one, except artists (who so happened to be wealthy) benefitted more this time and consumers (who aren't wealthy) would have less money in their wallet should they break away from pirating and free streaming. Finance and technology blogs pointed out the unoriginal interface and what seemed to be a flawed business model (using  the word 'seemed' because, again, few details) where audience gains would be few and the company's bottom line is just as weak as its competitor's (Jay-Z's response to this is interesting; I'll be getting to it). Just as critical, but far more cutting was the reaction from consumers. Due to the piss-poor presentation of the conference, Jay-Z and crew came off like a bunch of elitist, arrogant, greedy millionaires begging for more money at the expense of fans. #TidalForAll quickly became #TidalForNoOne on social media; people were throwing tomatoes and the well-intentioned "movement" where artists get the income they deserve from their own work in the streaming world versus industry executives and suits, was massively misperceived. 

Album Review.
Likes: Pretty Hurts, Haunted, XO, Superpower, Heaven, Blue
Dislikes: Drunk in Love, Partition, Flawless
Overall: Didn’t like it. It’s “I Am…Sasha Fierce” again-half substance, half useless. Great musical production.

After a whole year of watching, waiting and wondering, Beyonce` crept in like Santa Clause a little after midnight and released her new self-titled album for immediate download on ITunes (reportedly, physical copies will be available in stores December 20th). Yep, Beyonce` dropped an album out of nowhere with NO preliminary promotion, sending social media and late night news into a frenzy, saying in a press release that she was “bored” with the usual way of unveiling records. Conceptually branded as a “visual album,” the project comes with accompanying music videos and a mature content warning (mainly because of lyrics, but I’ll get to that). In terms of marketing, everything is very cool, exciting, unique and cutting edge, but is the actual album that way? Kind of, sort of, maybe.

The musical production is simply thrilling and spellbinding; if your dreams, reveries and drunken stupors had a soundtrack, “Beyonce`” would be it. Adding to the shadowy, phantasm-like experience are thoroughly enjoyable, naturally altering mid-song transitions, featuring real-life snippets from home movies. The song topic sometimes changes with the music too, keeping attention. Tracks that multi-task; how about that? Aside from some R&B and hip-hop back beats, “Beyonce`” is practically genre-less, which is always interesting (the production team includes Timbaland, Justin Timberlake, Ryan Tedder, Boots, Pharrell and Knowles herself). Vocally, Bey stays in a warm, middle spot, generally refraining from her usual riffs and runs (it’s up to you whether you think that’s negative or positive; I’m indifferent) and keeping her trademark harmony layers. Where things fall very far and short is in the lyrics department. There are definite winners (like the Frank Ocean co-penned “Superpower”), but most don’t finish the expedition they go on or they’re just written poorly. Some of these songs function like a story-book with the middle torn out; the starting details are where the whole song finishes. For example on “No Angel,” Beyonce`’s man is (assumingly) disappointed that she isn’t perfect and she kind of drives him crazy. That’s it. What is the “something complicated” that she says she is and also concludes he secretly likes? Why is he “no angel either?” Do their individual faults cause toxicity between them? There was plenty to explore, but instead the repetitively-lined chorus was drawn out and the verses were brief. Others cuts have hardly any lyrical value at all, like the already-popular and Twitter trending “Drunk in Love (likely a favorite because its catchy, thumping music; Bey wasn’t horrible at rapping, by the way),” which is quite literally about being drunk and screwing the night away. Additional cracks at being sexy oddly fail, depending on your definition of the term, which to me, doesn’t include crudeness. Beyonce`, of all artists was crude, with statements such as “He Monica Lewinsky-ed all on my gown (from “Partition,” which was covered in tawdriness),” “Turn that cherry out” (of “Blow”) and an unnecessary abundance of expletives throughout the record. Although “Rocket” brings D’Angelo’s timelessly sultry “Untitled (How Does it Feel)” to mind, it’s mostly plain execution and overused waterfall metaphors put it on the Kmart versions of “Speechless (from Beyonce`’s 2003 solo debut, “Dangerously in Love”)” list. Beyonce` hasn’t really expressed sexuality with the same illustrative, poetic and sensual sophistication that leaves something to the imagination since “Speechless.” On that note, it’s surprising that sex-especially tacky sex-would be a focal point of her album after building an entire platform not concentrated such, which many respect her for.

“Beyonce`” for me is like a more disorganized, slightly weaker “I Am…Sasha Fierce,” taking its place as my least favorite solo album from her (in fact, I never thought I’d see the day where I’d be so close to disliking one of her albums). It reminds me of “IASF” because half of it has some substance to it, while the other half serves as evidence to those who doubt her capacities (as a fan, the feeding of doubts is most frustrating because I know and have heard her do/write better). The track order doesn’t help because the mid-section is where most of the dimmer moments are and by the time you get to a brighter succession (“XO” is one of my favorite songs; it makes you think of the sweetest, most innocent minute of your love life), you’re brain is fried and you don’t want to take anymore.

Since the music videos are to be considered part of the album, I need to discuss them. Some are pulling, nicely done and give an unanticipated context to the songs. The video for “Jealous” presents a double-meaning; Bey is singing about being jealous and unfulfilled in a relationship, but in the video, she hints at being jealous of the ability of the non-famous to not always be a spectacle. “Partition” is a little less obnoxious, as it gives the viewpoint of a conservative woman wanting to show her mate a different side of her he’s not expecting. The body-image tale of “Pretty Hurts” is the best vignette in my opinion. Destiny’s Child makes an appearance in “Superpower” and Jay-Z in featured in multiple clips.

Collectively, I’m not sure what Beyonce` wanted me to gather from this album. It’s kind of confusing. Musically, it’s apparent the intent is to be raw without having a goal of charting or sales, but the holes in the writing and vapid plops among attractive rhythms say othwerwise. To a degree, “Beyonce`,” seems mixed, matched and slapped together. I’m really curious to hear other songs that didn’t make the final cut. When you think about the initial stylistically-similar tracks, “Standing on the Sun” and “Grown Woman” (heard in Beyonce’s Pepsi and H&M ads), it makes you wonder if the album had a completely different direction at first. Oh, and where is “God Made You Beautiful (available with the purchase of her HBO documentary DVD)?”  What’s crystal clear to me is that, like Beyonce` reiterated on “Haunted,” she’s bored. Good artists don’t get complacent and she’s trying to challenge herself by going into unchartered waters. However, because she’s a perfectionist, she tries too hard to top herself and sometimes bypasses what’s right in front of her.  Instead of taking the obvious, typical sexuality, hard language and controversial route to shake things up, she should’ve went personal. Afterall, the album is self-titled (what’s up with so many artists falling into the post-debut self-titled album jinx?). There were 4 instant topics between “Haunted” and “Mine ft. Drake,” that she could’ve elaborated on: the music business (“I don't trust these record labels”), feeling lost (“Took a trip to clear my mind, now I'm even more lost”), marriage and motherhood (“Been having conversations about breakups and separations, I'm not feeling like myself since the baby”). These items she merely touched on are things many can relate to or would like to hear her perspective about. For that matter, she could’ve turned her whole HBO special into a record, as she openly discussed a prior miscarriage, finding purpose, spirituality and familial affairs. “Beyonce`” could’ve been a really compelling tear-jerker of an album, but shoulda’, coulda’ woulda’, I guess. An album with Rihanna-tasting tracks (ex. Partition) was the follow-up to the lovely, throwback-flavored, love every-other -track-if-not-all “4.” Didn’t see that coming. 

As confirmed by representatives for Beyonce`, the pop-star gave birth to a baby girl Saturday. See the official statement and hear Jay-z's tribute song for his new daughter here: http://jsays.weebly.com/8/post/2012/01/jay-zs-song-for-his-newborn-leaks.html