Rihanna ANTI Rihanna ANTI

Review: Rihanna's 'ANTI' Is Gold... If You’re Willing To Give It A Try

Rihanna debuts some of her most advanced vocals and range of genres on 'ANTI.'

We’re all quite familiar with Unapologetic Rihanna. Bad Gal RiRi. The Rihanna who makes ordinary sidewalks her catwalk in anything from silk, slip dresses to outrageous, sometimes translucent, gowns. The girl unafraid to clap back at anyone who has a problem. Who we didn’t know was this Rihanna, ANTI Rihanna.

After months of false alarms and eye-rolling anticipation, Rihanna has blessed her navy with her eighth studio album, her first in more than three years since her 2012 Unapologetic. And with all the waiting and false-starts, the only thing running through our minds was: this has to be good. This better be the album that reignites our faith in the navy and has us going, Yes, f***ing yes. And the truth is, it’s good, just not in the way we expected.

If you’ve really been a Rihanna fan from “Pon de Replay” to “Umbrella” all the way up to “BBHMM,” this might not have been exactly what you were expecting. ANTI isn’t chock full of upbeat radio hits, and with the exclusion of maybe two songs, it isn’t the turn up. Sure, Rihanna’s always taken fans on a musical journey through her albums. We’ve seen the carefree nineteen-year-old playing on the beach and the unraveling of her public relationship during her darker, “Russian Roulette” days. And while most have enjoyed the natural progression from carefree to a more matured and multi-dimensional artist, her latest attitude—the I’ll do what I want, rebellion from all things tamed, soft, and cute—seemed like the most appropriate, final chapter. Even when the ANTI cover art was revealed, the miniature Rih masked by a crown and holding a balloon suggested all hell would break loose with tracks screaming independence and bad-assness.

Here, Rihanna is still a bad ass (as if that would ever change), but she’s not exuding the girl from Instagram, twerking on yachts or gliding through mansions in lace lingerie. She’s not talking about pouring it up or plotting to get her money back. “B***h Better Have My Money” isn’t even on the album (“FourFiveSeconds” and “American Oxygen” are also noticeably absent). It’s by far one of her most advanced albums in terms of vocals and sounds, though. One minute she’s getting lost in neo-soul flows with SZA in “Consideration,” the next she’s giving major pipes over a wave of an orchestra on “Love on the Brain.” It’s a roller coaster of experimentation with high and low notes, country, guitar strings and retro beats. This album captures the progression after what we thought would be the last – what happens after the fur and Swarovski crystals come off and she’s somewhere on a secluded island with maybe a studio, a strong drink, and one rolled. On ANTI, our favorite bad gal is laid back, but commanding; provocative, yet mysterious. And the same ol’ Rihanna is still there; you just have to dig through the ballads, because it’s good. Really good.

“Consideration” (feat. SZA): “I got to do things my own way, darling.” One of the first lines from the introduction track is basically the motto here. As one of the only features, Rihanna recruits SZA and, based on what we heard, it was a smart selection. The two compliment each other well as they exchange vocals about cutting ties. This is the first of many tracks where Rih brings her Bajan accent to the forefront, going in and out of singing and spitting a rapper’s flow. The single is made whole by fusing an eerie, down-tempo tune with a retro beat, two sounds that stay true to SZA’s alt-soul background and Rih’s affinity for hip-hop. This unexpected collab, joining pop’s reigning royalty and alternative’s rising star, has a feel good nature that sets the pace for what the rest of the album will sound like.

“James Joint”: Depending on the kind of Rihanna you enjoy or expect, this may be one of the more unfavorable tracks for some. It’s a spacy, dreamy single mixing a little marijuana with the struggle for true love. It’s a simple interlude that doesn’t bring or take anything away, but it does add to the overall cohesion of the album.

“Kiss It Better”: The glaring electric guitar intro immediately screams a modern, rock love song, and it’s not a bad look at all. The guitar and the back-up vocals on the chorus are fitting for the content, talking about mending broken fences and getting back together. Although this seems to be foreign territory compared to her previous love ballads like “Unfaithful” or “California King Bed,” this makes it seem like she’s always been singing this way. It may be the rock-inspired vibe or the desperation in her voice that makes the song feel so heavy and ultimately enjoyable. Either way it works, because it’s the climactic love song you want to blast from an old boombox.

“Work”: When you first see Drake’s name as a feature on this track, you can’t help give the air above a little high five. It’s been nearly six years since they teamed up for “What’s My Name,” so that alone warrants a listen. It was the first single to drop from the album and it took exactly five listens to really stand back and say, okay, this is good. She stumbles and fumbles through the chorus, but after you make out the fact that she’s repeating “work,” it makes you want to bust into a fast wine. The weird thing is she doesn’t actually say much on the track. The real words are left to Drake, which in some ways was a flop on his end. Going from lines like “The square root sixty-nine is ate something, right?” to “If you had a twin, I would still choose you” is a big leap from clever to corny. But this isn’t about Drake. So in terms of being the only track on the album that may get you up in a club, it’s good to have it in the mix.

FIRST SINGLE #WORK ft. @champagnepapi  from #ANTI out now. Stream & download here: http://smarturl.it/RihWORK

A photo posted by badgalriri (@badgalriri) on

“Desperado”: The opening eight seconds are pleasantly reminiscent of Banks’ “Waiting Game.” Again, she shows her versatility, matching a choppy, rustic voice with indie-rock. Not sure why it followed “Work,” considering the tempo is much slower and the lyrics desperately plead for companionship. But its addition to the track list is greatly appreciated as it gets us back in the zone. For lack of many comparisons, this one paints the picture of the western American story, similar to the missing “FourFiveSeconds.”

“Woo:” If you were wondering where Travis Scott’s influence was on the album, you’ve found it. This hard, militant intro and echo-y sound reeks of Trav. Nonetheless, the track is the kind of the gutter anthem most expected from Rihanna to begin with. She’s not actually saying much, but something feels right. Through its static sound, she compares herself to his next. “I bet she could never make you cry, cause the scars on your heart are still mine… Too bad she just eating off your dreams. Let me know when you’re ready to plea. Maybe you just need to send for me.” Clearly, she’s acknowledging the fans that may be getting weary of the slow songs and alternative sounds. Here’s the single you can blast at kickbacks and collectively nod your head to.

“Needed Me”: “Don’t get it twisted,” Rihanna is still a bad ass, and on this track she shows how “savage” she can be. The electronic sound and heavy bass triggers every woman’s ability to be sexy and a savage at the same damn time. It’s for the #Navy members who need a beat to gets them up and moving as well as for the others that would rather not move at all, choosing instead to sit back with hands lifted and sing to the chorus or ad-libs.

“Yeah, I Said It:” This song is to ANTI what “Skin” was to Loud. It’s the kind of raw, hot, and whimsy sound that you replay, even though it's not necessarily the most appropriate song to listen to on your way to work. The two-minute song gives a little more than “Birthday Cake” did (before the remix) but even so, as it echoes out you’re left wanting just a little bit more.

“Same Ol’ Mistakes:” She may be talking about old mistakes, but this is definitely a brand new sound. The soft, cover of Tame Impala’s “New Person, Same Old Mistakes” definitely brings on the psychedelic, pop-rock feels. The song reminds you of the fluid motions of a lava lamp, casually changing from laid back to intense vocals.

“Never Ending”: There goes that guitar again. Unlike “Kiss it Better,” the sounds lean more towards country. Its organic melody and sweet back up vocals illustrate this idea of Rihanna performing on a beach with little to no instrumental support. Just like her lyrics, “Ghost in the mirror, I knew your face once, but now it’s unclear,” it’s a little unclear of whether this is a sad, love song or just a really beautiful chord progression, but whatever it’s going for, you feel it hard.

“Love On The Brain”: It took a second or two to warm up to the whiny vocals or all-tenor backup vocals, but as the band unravels into what sounds like a full blown orchestra, the song starts to come around. The sultry, love song depicts a destructive, yet addictive relationship, that has Rihanna baring her soul. While some production and vocal elements do sounds similar to Beyonce’s “Superpower,” it differs in the powerful and soulful performance that showcases her own range.

“Higher”: It’s an unpopular opinion, but the scream-singing isn’t too favorable. Still, there aren’t many complaints on this number. Her drunken plead for late-night companionship unleashes a powerful ballad. This song should have been the last song on the album, being that she gave almost everything she had left in the booth. “You light my fire. Let’s stay up late and smoke up a J. I want to go back to the old way.”

“Close To You:” Concluding the album is a somber ballad that drifts off to the soft instrumentals of the piano. It can similarly be compared to “Stay.” “If you let me, I'll be there by now / close to you," she sings. It seems like an odd song to end the album, but similar to the song’s fading out, it leaves you with a calming after taste of everything you just heard.

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Review: Jessie Reyez’s Expressive EP Proves There’s Beauty In ‘Being Human In Public’

Jessie Reyez’s recently-released EP Being Human In Public proves that the Toronto musician’s fiery exterior comes with a cool, introspective center. Her 2017 EP Kiddo introduced her to the world as force who was willing to “go there” by singing about major issues like sexual assault and emotionally abusive relationships. This time around, Reyez muses about the softer side of love, displaying her flexibility within the overarching theme.

Much of her latest EP, which dropped Friday (Oct. 19), pertains to the wide range of emotions that come with romantic appreciation. Thanks to her animated performance ability, Reyez encapsulates the complex gamut of the strong emotional state; there’s longing, anger, confusion, confidence and so much more. The 27-year-old songbird’s vocal versatility has gained fans like Kamikaze collaborator Eminem and Aerosmith’s Steven Tyler, and her attention-grabbing abilities are showcased throughout the multi-dimensional seven-song project.

Reyez’s true vocal gifts shine through when paired with more demure production, evident by the EP’s starting track “Saint Nobody” and the stand-out love anthem “Apple Juice,” produced by Tim Suby and Fred Ball. Her effortless falsetto notes at the duration of the aforementioned song are a melodic combination with the strings that finish out the track.

Perhaps the song that best displays Reyez’s tender core is “Sola (Interlude),” which is sung entirely in Spanish. She coos over an acoustic guitar to a lover about how she’s not necessarily the type of woman they should be with—she would be better off sola (alone). The result? A heart-wrenchingly relatable track that could have served best as the EP's stunning finale.

“I'm not the type of woman that your mother wants to see you with,” the lyrics translate to. “I could never please you...I'm an eagle, flying alone.”

While the content throughout Being Human In Public is rather profound in nature, Reyez makes sure that her signature unapologetic delivery to tackling topics through her songwriting is also highlighted. Thanks to assistance from budding music sensation Normani and Grammy-nominated R&B singer Kehlani on the “Body Count (Remix),” all three singers’ stances on body positivity, sex positivity and all forms of love are highlighted.

Additionally, the straightforward “F**k Being Friends,” which is slightly reminiscent of her quirky Kiddo track “Shutter Island,” deals with the occasionally murky divide between courtship and friendship. “My p***y beat better than my heart do?” she sings, “so why you p***y-footin’ on this part two?”

“In every aspect—in my music, in my life—I’m going to be straight with you, and I tell people too, I’m like that,” Reyez told VIBE in April about the importance of being upfront. “I need you to just tell me direct, because if the roles were reversed, I’m the type to tell you direct.” Love is one of the things that connects all of us as people, and if you can’t be real with that, what can you be real about?

Reyez makes sure that her honesty on wax is as plain and simple as it is in her personal life, and Being Human In Public is an audibly-pleasing extension of her personal beliefs and values.

READ MORE: NEXT: Behind The Extraterrestrial Voice, Jessie Reyez Is Human Like The Rest Of Us

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Lupe Fiasco performs as part of the benefit concert, 'Power To The People' at Coliseo Jose M. Agrelot on March 18, 2018 in San Juan, Puerto Rico. (Photo by Gladys Vega/Getty Images)
Photo by Gladys Vega/Getty Images

Lupe Fiasco Eschews Label Drama And Controversy For Ambitious 'Drogas Wave'

In the early 2000s, JAY-Z called Lupe Fiasco “a breath of fresh air” for rap. Most of the hip-hop world agreed. He delivered a standout verse on Kanye West’s “Touch The Sky,” and a well-regarded Food & Liquor studio debut that led rap fans to saint him as an imaginative, skilled lyricist, adept at weaving storytelling, social commentary, sustained metaphors and technical precision together in an A+ package. Unfortunately, it didn’t take long for that figurative breath of fresh air to become a sigh.

While crafting his third album Lasers, he began having creative differences with his former label Atlantic Records. Though the album was eventually released — after his fans literally petitioned for it — the struggle derailed what seemed like his inevitable trajectory to the heights of music that stylistic peers like Kendrick Lamar and J. Cole now occupy.

Lupe’s known in part for his sophomore album, The Cool, but it seems like a good stretch of his career was more defined by the frustration. In 2018, though, Lupe’s finally on the right wave — the Drogas Wave. Lupe dropped his first independent album last week, a 24-track conceptual piece dually exploring the drug trade and the transatlantic slave trade that cap-stoned his own trade of Atlantic Records for artistic freedom.

I really only did this album for solid Lupe fans. The PhD’s in Lupeism. It’s in no way for new fans, the casual listener, record sales, the year 2018 or radio. Just the core fans to have a ball with. https://t.co/N76F5YAeDJ

— “DROGAS WAVE” NOW PLAYING (@LupeFiasco) September 26, 2018

He’s always been a master of conceptualization, weaving thematic, if not narrative-driven connections from verse to verse and song-to-song on albums like Food & Liquor, The Cool, and Tetsuo & Youth. Drogas Wave is among his most ambitious work in that regard. The album, which he’s said was made specifically for his “core fans,” ideates what the rhymer called an alternate, fantastic history of the slave trade in which a group of Africans jumped off a slave ship, survived underwater, and spent their new lives sinking subsequent slave ships.

But he still delves into the reality of what happened on songs like “Manilla,” where he sheds light on the currency that European countries used to purchase slaves from West Africa to build so much of the western world. Looking to unite black and brown people across the Americas, Drogas Wave shows him representing for three communities of African descent cultivated in spite of western colonialism: Latinos, West Indians and Black Americans. He rapped fluent Spanish on “Drogas.” He collaborated with reggae royalty Damian Marley on “Kingdom” and rhymed in patois on “Gold vs. The Right Things to Do.” On the thrilling “King Nas,” he dedicates some of the project’s most impeccable rhyming not to God’s Son, but his two young nephews King and Nas who are coming of age in a treacherous environment for all black people in America.

The album was well-crafted and laden with thought-provoking, research-worthy bars examining the scourges that plunder black and brown communities, but it wasn’t flawless. He utilized over a dozen different producers on the project, which resulted in a few compositions that are less compelling than others. There are also choruses by Nikki Jean on “Down” and Troi Irons on “XO” that felt a tad too eager for mass appeal. But even on those tracks, the invigoration and dedication that Lupe rhymes with make them worthwhile listens.

Drogas Wave shows Lupe on the right track. While so many of his fellow rap veterans were ravenous publicity hounds this year, he spent his online time on Instagram Live, dropping what he called “super facts” about the fallacy of white supremacy and the music industry. He also apologized to people he’s insulted like former President Obama, Childish Gambino, Kendrick Lamar, and others. Throughout that March apology session, he ended his statements with variations of, “I should have kept that to myself.” Perhaps he’s now in a space that he should have been his entire career: independent and letting his incredible lyricism speak for him.

Lupe always has wisdom to impart, but like his Chicago comrade Kanye West, he doesn’t always communicate his thoughts in the best way. Over time, he developed a reputation for being an easily agitable presence on Twitter. He’s gotten into arguments with Kid Cudi, Azealia Banks, and several others. In 2013, he derogated Donald Glover as a “Black” instead of a “n***a” for arbitrary reasons.

In 2014, when Australian rapper Iggy Azalea was being accused of cultural appropriation because of her put-on “Atlantastralian” accent and racist lyrics, he defended her by saying she had “a space” in hip-hop. That comment made him one of the first victims of the dreaded social media “cancel,” and he lashed out with his own tweetstorm. He tweeted, “b***h I been here on the rooftop screaming in the ears of these brainwashed a** more money on they feet than in they pocket a** n***as,” and also proclaimed, “I'm here...kick pushing you ignant a** n***az and fast trout mouth a** b***hes all the way to the promised land kicking and screaming h**.”

His retorts were based in truth, but sometimes, brutal honesty is just brutality. The tweets typified why Phonte infamously likened Lupe to The Newsroom as a “technically brilliant show that would be a lot smarter if it stopped trying to show people how smart it was.” Compared to Q-Tip’s thoughtful hip-hop treatise to Iggy, Lupe came across like a know-it-all. But at the base of his anger was a frustration with being misunderstood. He incredulously groused, “I thought I was one of the good guys.”

The son of a Black Panther, Lupe had always delivered anti-establishment messaging in his music that hampered his budding status as the “Superstar” he rhymed about in 2007. In 2011, when most of mainstream hip-hop was deifying Barack Obama, Lupe was telling CBS that “the biggest terrorist is Obama and the United States of America” based on America’s warmongering throughout the Middle East, South America and Africa in particular.

His ire toward the country’s tyranny inspired an awkward, 30-minute rendition of the Obama-critical “Words I Never Said” at an inauguration party in D.C., which the show’s organizers called “a bizarrely repetitive, jarring performance that left the crowd vocally dissatisfied.” Songs like his “American Terrorist” series display his analytical acuity when it comes to diagnosing the roots of systemic oppression and its consequences, but at that point he seemed unable to properly convey his intellect outside the booth.

Lupe has said that he felt he was “immediately blackballed” after his Obama comments. While Lasers had sold 204,000 copies in its first week, 2012’s Food & Liquor II: The Great American Rap Album was Grammy-nominated, but sold just 128,000 records overall as of 2012. His aforementioned Twitter antics were overshadowing his lyrical gifts, his attempts to drop knowledge were being mocked or misunderstood, and worst of all, he couldn’t release music on his own volition.

He told Power 106 in August 2014 that he was “worn down” by the “nonsense” of dealing with Atlantic, and that “we’re just trying to get albums out just to get off the label.” Months earlier he told Torae that, “I don’t have a 360 deal,” so “since they can’t eat off my merchandise or my publishing or my touring they treat me like a third-class citizen.” Still, he resolved, he’d ”fight through it.”

That determination defines him. While discussing “Mission” from 2015’s Tetsuo & Youth, he reflected, “I’ve been inspired by those who are surviving, thriving and fighting.” Just like he’s been fighting to thrive, in spite of label woes, the backlash from subversive beliefs, and self-sabotage that collectively tarnished his mainstream standing. Others artists have let the industry consume them, but Lupe’s still here, rekindling a musical brilliance that his fans knew he was capable of.

On Drogas Wave’s “Jonylah Forever,” a poignant song that ideates 6-month-old Jonylah Watkins, shot dead in 2013, as an adult, he rhymed about how “the coolest thing is when they offered you that high paying slot, you replied ‘they need me in the hood,’ and that's where you reside.” He then talked about her saving a shooting victim, rhyming, “and in that moment, where you gave your help/I bet you didn't know that you saved yourself.”

That powerful summation also applies to him, as an artist who helped others see the light while vying to keep his own spirit alit in a music industry that he mentally “quit” on a decade ago. He told Billboard in 2015 that “I'm happy being that somewhat sophisticated, overly deep weird guy making powerful music — but just two or three degrees away from the center of attention.”

Einstein once mused that, “creativity is intelligence having fun.” It didn’t seem like Lupe was having much fun as a major label artist. But after fulfilling his obligations to Atlantic with Drogas Light, and releasing Drogas Wave independently, he’s revitalized for the next chapter of his career — on his terms.

He recently stated that there would be no interviews for this album cycle because, “I’ve never seen myself as a star and I still don’t.” That makes sense. Stars can’t see themselves, it’s only us spectators who experience the fascination of watching them hover.

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Jack McKain

When It Comes To Both Sound And Sartorial Matters, Masego Has Upgraded To Silk

With his new album 'Lady Lady,' Masego strides into grown and sexy territory.

Masego is a silk man now, or so he tells me. He’s just shaken off the water from his body length PUMA coat, where a committed Reykjavik crowd braved an Icelandic “summer” rainstorm for him. Plastic bags are tied securely over his flashy sneakers, because he isn’t messing them up in the visible mud puddles cratering the city’s Laugardalshöll sporting grounds.

It’s a far cry from when we first met in Brooklyn, New York two years ago, where the then-22-year-old was pigging out at Peter’s Since 1969 before a packed Webster Hall show (R.I.P.), dressed in a multicolored velvet robe, busy blue Hawaiian shirt and basketball shorts that matched neither.

He’s almost embarrassed at the memory. “Why did you allow that?” he asks now, shaking his head. “I wanted the cover of The Fader and that's what I thought it would take. I was trying to out-weird n***as.” Masego, now 25, has not only learned from his sartorial flubs, but has overcome the mild insecurities that inspired them. “I was in this weird battle with people I didn't know and then I started to get more comfortable,” he says. “Get that silk.”

Masego 2.0 is upon us, and his grown and sexy debut album, Lady Lady, is the proof in the pudding. Right from the jump of the 13-track project, released on Sept. 7 (an admittedly somber day for music lovers), the “Silk…” opening instrumental makes it crystal-clear that his intention is to soothe and to woo.

His charm and playful sensuality come to the forefront on smooth tracks like “I Had A Vision,” the SiR-assisted “Old Age” (which also features Instagram comedian Renny) and the freestyled “Queen Tings” featuring SiR’s cousin, Tiffany Gouche. However, hip-hop and trap fans aren’t left out of the equation. Cuts like “Shawty Fishin (Blame The Net)," and “Lavish Lullaby” pair slick bars with enough knock and bass to soundtrack road trips as well as coax wallflowers onto the dance floor with a partner.

In the time between the release of his 2016 freebie project, Loose Thoughts, and now, Masego has seen some world. Frequent exposure to different pin drops across the globe and the creatives who live there bolstered his sound in exciting ways, giving way to some of Lady Lady’s standout selections. It’s an understatement to say that the LP’s instrumentation and production handiwork magnify his spotlight.

Take a look at the album’s supernova of a single “Tadow,” brought into full fruition during a jam session with French multi-hyphenate musician, FKJ. “I feel like the overseas travel is the inspiration. It kind of builds up and then when I get a chance to sit down, it just comes out,” he says. “I knew I was going to South Africa and then I sat down and we just free-styled, planted some beats, making stuff and then ‘Queen Tings’ was just freestyled. With ‘Tadow,’ on the plane ride to Paris I was watching a Fresh Prince marathon. You know the one where he slept with Janice? That was mad funny to me so that was the last thing in my spirit.”

Then on the album’s slow-burning title track, full-bodied lyrics are an afterthought. Instead, sensual scats and truncated mutters carried along the notes of his sax dim the lights, while velvety vocals crook the finger at his lady-to-be. "If you classy but you're reckless/Then you gon' get choose a necklace, lady lady," he coos, no stranger to slick talk.

“Everything kind of goes back to my uncles,” he says, reflecting on how the idea for “Lady Lady” came about during a family visit. “After going to Jamaica, I understand why they're so cool naturally. My Southern uncles, they got this Southern respect and there's a more pimp-ish side to my father's side and so that kind of comes together with ‘Lady Lady.’ It’s like ‘Lady Lady’ could mean… it’s like almost saying, ‘Hey love.’ It could be a potential love on that level or 'this my girlfriend,' you know what I'm saying?”

Within his short career, Maségo has remained unmarried to just one scope of music. The singer-songwriter and saxophone savant floats between jazz, hip-hop, and R&B (and the occasional trap) from song to song as freely as he pleases, but he's in his bag the most when they meld together. In his eyes, Lady Lady is the perfect cocktail of that, showcasing his creative maturation and slight pivot from the Pink Polo EP-era Masego fans are used to. “After my glow up stage is done, I want to just go off wherever Adele is chilling right now,” Masego jokes. “I want to like just be in the thick of things. I think [Lady Lady] is going to be lovely in the sense of it’s going to give you that next threshold."

READ MORE: Quincy Jones Gives Masego Advice On How To Become A Living Legend

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