Rihanna - Loud

Thanks to Rihanna’s new offering, I now know what a substance-less album sounds like. Titled ‘Loud’, THAT is all the album has going for it – volume. Listen to it at the right decibel and the noise will distract you from the lack of substance, meaning, and any real reason for existence other than as a filler for a dj’s set list. You know, that section where they need anything inane and brainless, but with a good enough beat, to keep the half-drunken twenty-somethings jiving non-rhythmically until closing time.

Where do I start with this mess? While the beats can be generously considered catchy and appealing, after five albums Rihanna’s singing, which at one time could have been considered fresh and exotic, now grates the tortured eardrums like the pained yelps of a cat under a fat man. Such quasi-singing would be excusable if the lyrics were anything but anodyne, unsophisticated and superficial. I wonder what the thinking process was to get to rhyming ‘realise’ with ‘eyes’. Or to declare, like so many who have come before Rihanna, that her money is on her mind. Good songs should read like poetry – with its nuances, subtlety, hidden messages and layered meanings. ‘Why are you standing there with your clothes on?/ Go on baby strip down and take them off’ leaves nothing to the imagination and seriously undermines the intelligence of semi-literate music listeners. (Admittedly, such basic lyrics do cater to a certain type of unrefined audience.) The only good lyrics in the entire album were Eminem’s, in a cameo appearance of Part II of ‘Love the Way You Lie’. Of course, he wrote that part.

On top of that, the actual contents of the songs do nothing more than shamelessly perpetuate the much love-to-hate misconception of hip hop and rnb as little more than hedonistic, overly-sexualised music. There’s nothing wrong with singing about sex and depravity; hey, they’re what make the world go round. But at least put some effort and creative energy into it, instead of resorting to the lowest common denominator with a song titled ‘S&M’ and lyrics like ‘Sticks and stones may break my bones, but chains and whips excite me.’

That said, the album could be interpreted as some kind of emancipation. Two records ago, with ‘Good Girl Gone Bad’, and the skilled and seasoned producing hand of Jay Z, this was appropriate, innovative and executed with sass and style. Now, two albums and a whole lot of courted controversy later, the concept is dated and laughable. What else does she need emancipating from? The result, then, is something that sounds like Rihanna has simply taken the woes of her disastrous personal life out on this album, which is a mess, much like her divisive public profile.

Big words, and punchy sartorial jibes aside, this album simply sucks! After two bad records, whatever appeal or talent Rihanna once had is now officially gone; replaced by the superficial facade of fiery-haired, sultry vixen. But keep in mind that, much like her music, that red weave is also fake. [Image from http://www.muumuse.com/]