Janelle Monae’s Road to Electricity
Album Review: “The Electric Lady”
There is a moment in the video for “Cold War,” one of the best singles from Janelle Monae’s debut album “The ArchAndroid,” that revealed all you need to know about where Monae stood as an artist then, and how much she’s grown now.
“I’m trying to find my peace,” the Kansas City native belts midway through the single-shot, one take video. “I was made to believe there’s something wrong with me. And it hurts my heart.”
It’s then when it happens. Without warning, Monae breaks down and the tears come. It’s as raw of a music video “moment” as you’ll likely be able to recall in recent memory. One so spontaneous and authentic it reportedly brought half the video’s production set to tears as well.
It was in that moment that I reached a better understanding of Monae. You don’t have to dig deep to realize she’s an auteur of anti. In the age of #ootd, ‘the turn up,’ and twerking, Monae dons a pompadour and monochromatic uniform of black and white tuxedos, gushes over Os Mutantes records, and dances like the lady incarnation of James Brown.
In short, Janelle’s weird.. and it wasn’t until this video, of Janelle stripped down in front of a black wall emoting through her most vulnerable lyrics that I realized how much she maybe truly struggled with that weirdness.
But it makes total sense, doesn’t it? It’s a familiar mask we all know and wear. One of seemingly unwavering confidence worn to hide the battles waging beneath as we scratch and claw our way to self assurance. It’s our disguise, with please-double-tap-this selfies, and look-how-fun-and-cool-my-life-is social media posts. We grin and bear and lie until we’re confident enough to let our real selves shine through, public opinion be damned; it’s the pains of growth.
The ArchAndroid was a front row seat to Monae’s growing pains. We boogalooed and tightroped along as she touched on her own struggles with societal expectations, sexuality, self-worth, and the many other wars going on in all our heads as we try to figure shit out. The album was Monae’s funky, cryptic catharsis on her road to self affirmation, and the prologue to her stellar sophomore album, “The Electric Lady” (Bad Boy/Universal), which finds Monae standing tall as a conquerer, firmly rooted in self.
The 4th and 5th installment of the 7-part Metropolis Suite saga of the android Cindi Mayweather, sent to free humans from the ills of social stratification, we begin The Electric Lady with Cindi striding triumphantly into town amid a western Tarantino-esque overture. “She has arrived! Her crown/ Has a story now… I’m electric girl/From electric world,” a mens chorus sings, in the style of a 70’s spaghetti western. It’s an unexpected, twisty intro appropriate for a virtuoso songstress as uncanny as the “Django Unchained” creator.
“I am sharper than a razor/ Eyes made of lasers/ Bolder than the truth,” are Monae’s first words on “Giving Em What They Love,” a sexy funk-rock duet boasting a Prince feature. With a vocal clarity that could make Beyoncé jealous, Monae teases out-the-closet quips (“She followed me back to the lobby/ yea she was looking at me for some undercover love”) and stands as the song’s more interesting half as she wastes no time in letting listeners know: ‘This is who I am, deal with it or get lost.’ It’s an impressive that and potent message that Monae delivers with smart writing and a sharp employment of dazzling musicality. The album has notes of 50's rockabilly (Dance Apocalyptic), 60's Motown soul (It’s Code), 70's afro-funk, and 80s New Wave brought in an awesome array of solo efforts and duets with some of the most bombastic ladies in music (Erykah Badu, Solange, and Esperanza Spalding all appear to dazzling effect). The present is there, too, with the Miguel assisted ‘Primetime,’ which is probably the sexiest R&B duet out right now by anyone not named Alicia or Maxwell.
Ironically still, it’s this same wide-range that can at times be an bit of an Achilles heel. Monae has so much to say that she still struggles at times with ways to get her message across in a streamlined way, resulting at times in offerings that, while beautiful, lack a magnetism and make you wonder if they are necessary to Monae’s (or Mayweather’s) story. The electricity comes for 19 tracks, but might the voltage have been just as strong at, say, 15?
It’s a question of semantics that waits to be answered with the next installment of the Metropolis saga, and with good measure. By the album’s end, Monae herself appears exhausted from a journey that started in 2007 (We party every night, then we all just walk off in the rain) she exhales on “What An Experience,” the album’s closer. It’s been a taxing journey with some emotional ups and downs, but the tears have been dried and after a second guess or two, Monae stands, chin high, certain as ever into the realization of her own vibrancy, value, and sheer electricity. And what’s most rewarding — — you’re right there alongside her, feeling the same.
It’s a ride unlike any other, tagging along with this Electric Lady. One that you want and should stick around for.
But if you don’t, that’s fine too. Monae will still be dancing along to her own beat anyway.
