Beyoncé’s ‘Renaissance’ Is a Prideful Act of Resistance
On her seventh studio album, the icon moves across various subgenres of dance music.
“Bey is back and I’m sleeping right good at night” declares Beyoncé on “Break My Soul”, the lead single released last month that served as the appetizer for the recently released Renaissance, her seventh studio album. “Break My Soul” marked a new turn for the transcendent superstar, as Beyoncé’s first official foray into house music, an electronic dance genre marked by themes of escapism and self-expression. Birthed in 1980s nightlife, house music established an early home amongst queer audiences of the time, who found comfort in the liberating essence amongst the face of discrimination and ostracism. Whether it be homemade dance floors in the living room or the stiletto-scraped tiles of a nightclub, house music gave permission to let loose and feel joy.
Renaissance marks Beyoncé’s first solo studio album since 2016’s Lemonade, a triumphant exploration of grief, strife, and reconciliation. The largest immediate difference between Lemonade and Renaissance is that Lemonade arrived consecutively alongside an hour-long film that featured the music incorporated into its storytelling, while Renaissance arrived without so much as a music video for its lead single, a peculiarity for an artist who has become synonymous with the creation of the ‘visual album.’
Even in the absence of visual components, Renaissance (the first in a three-act project, according to the album’s intro in its liner notes) shines plenty on its own. It’s difficult to listen to any song without feeling moved to groove or envision a mini movie in your own mind where you’re the lead. In her first official TikTok posted last month, Beyoncé thanked fans for embracing “Break My Soul” and ‘releasing the wiggle’ however they saw fit. It’s clear she wants listeners to acclimate themselves with the environment of the project before accentuating it with music videos, a film, or whatever else she has planned.
Apropos of environments and familiarity, Renaissance is not engineered for casual, untrained ears. It’s a luxe, ambitiously crafted listening experience that greatly rewards those willing to stay onboard for the whole journey. Ironically, as her star only grows bigger and more deity-like, Beyoncé travels more and more inward in her artistry, choosing to rather cater to her longtime listeners — who are more apt to pick up on vocal intricacies and artistic references from her own mythology — rather than appease the fickle ears of casual listeners who are still likely to list something like “Single Ladies” or “Halo” as their favorite Beyoncé song in 2022. Beginning with 2013’s Beyoncé, the singer elevated to a new level of artistic expression; one that is not bound by industry trends or expectations. The very first words you hear on the album are “These motherfuckers ain’t stopping me,” and that serves as a mantra for the type of unapologetic, unbridled art Beyonce is making. There is no room for censorship when you have amassed the type of empire Beyoncé oversees. Artists dream of the type of artistic freedom she enjoys. Art is not meant to be a family friendly endeavor at all times, and some of the songs on Renaissance will likely never be played on radio. That’s okay, she doesn’t need it.
Opening track “I’m That Girl” begins with a chant-like meditation, bringing you into the sonic realm of the record. Its lyrics (and title) land not as boastful, but self-affirmations of confidence. An early highlight is “Alien Superstar,” a pulsating whiplash of a song that evokes the otherworldly presence of someone like Prince on “I Would Die 4 U,” in this world but not of it. My personal favorite is “Cuff It,” a funky invitation to a night of reckless activity. It’s the sound of a long gone era in music, where you could clear out the dance floor and watch your loved ones bust out their own unpolished, spontaneous moves. The song feels like a loosened collared version of “Lay Up Under Me,” a deluxe add on from the initial print run of Target-exclusive editions of 2011’s 4 (now only available for official streaming on Tidal). Guests are light on Renaissance, but impactful in their usage. Reggae and dancehall rapper Beam sets the scene on “Energy,” a seamless Afrobeats-centric precursor to “Break My Soul,” where she is joined by New Orleans-bred bounce legend Big Freedia. Fashion and dance icon Grace Jones and rising Nigerian R&B singer/songwriter Tems join in on “Move”, a warning shot that melts into the thumping “Heated,” co-penned by Drake. You can feel the rapper’s influence across the track, which employs the sounds of dancehall, along with a talk-sing cadence that he helped popularize. “Heated,” however, brims with a fierceness that only Queen Bey can provide, ending in a fiery narration that channels the flamboyance of ballroom commentators. Renaissance is dipped in cultural references familiar to queer audiences, from phrases common in nightclub scenes and drag. Penultimate track “Pure/Honey” samples drag artist Kevin Aviance’s 1996 single “Cunty,’ along with Jamaican drag icon Moi Renee’s 1992 hit “Miss Honey.” “Pure/Honey” sounds like multiple songs in one because it is. Beyoncé has perfected a Frankenstein-like approach to producing and arranging, taking a line from here, an interpolation from there, crafting her own verses and choruses to result in the perfect sonic result.
One of the greatest takeaways from Renaissance is its not-so-apparent-on-the-surface politics. Pop divas are known for their legions of rabidly devoted queer fans, and Beyoncé is no different. Renaissance is a love letter to her late gay uncle, Johnny (whom she name checks on “Heated”), but her LGBTQ+ fans reap the benefits. It means something that in 2022, the biggest artist alive — a Black woman, mind you — loudly proclaims her appreciation of a Black gay man and salutes the culture that shaped him. Beyoncé celebrates the very thing that made him different, not loving him ‘in spite’ of anything, but because of all of these things. There are many gay and trans artists who helped bring Renaissance to life, from Big Freedia featuring on “Break My Soul,” to a voiceover from transgender comedian and actress TS Madison on “Cozy.” In the wake of the album’s release, Madison took to her social media to thank Beyoncé for not only using her voice on the song, but crediting her as an official cowriter, thus providing her with future residuals for the album’s commercial lifetime. Beyoncé’s activism is separate from her peers in the way that she doesn’t rush to tweet or post every time a hot topic is the discussion of the day, but her actions depict that of an ever-evolving and empathetic citizen of the world.
Beyoncé, who turns 41 next month, is soaring to new heights at an age where ageism would usually cool the jets for many artists, as Top 40 charts are typically a 35 and under affair. Labels look for new and younger artists to continue the cycle of hitmaking, and many artists grow discouraged of trying to adapt to the shifting tastes of listeners. Many legacy acts move on to endless greatest hits endeavors, and some retire altogether. In her 2013 documentary Life Is But A Dream, Beyoncé spoke about the way the music industry milks artists for all they’re worth and throws them out to pasture after there is nothing left to give. She’s not trying to beat anyone at their own game, she’s making an entirely new game, and she’s not even at her final form.
Renaissance is out now.
