Nicki and a Lane of One's Own

Though I wanted my review to be just between me and Nicki's sophomore album, an interloper kept appearing. I found myself arguing with a straw man. In hipsterish dishevelment would he glance up from his Complex mag screen to hate upon Pink Friday: Roman Reloaded and pine for 'mixtape Nicki.'

His disdain crept in like a finger of frost, killing my enjoyment of tender annuals like "Starships" and "Masquerade." Nor could the solid rapping of "Stupid Hoe" please him; he facilely declared Nicki to be the stupid hoe, with her excessive weirdness and annoying voice. He called "Beez in the Trap" acceptable and gave "Champion" a mild cosign (though the latter came with open speculation about why Nas would thusly lower himself).

I will now muzzle the straw man so I can tell you how much I like this album. To placate him, I will begin where we most nearly agree.

When I (of course) pre-ordered the album and perused the track listing, I spotted "Champion," which purported to feature Drake, Jeezy and Nas. Imagine my delight. Within moments I'd cycled through the emotions, from thrilled anticipation to fear of dashed expectations to modest but fervent hope.

And indeed this song is really goddamn good. It opens on a soaring beat that sounds like a slow-mo finish line cross, arms aloft. "Chariots of Fire" for rap. Nicki sets the tone with a smooth blend of boast and ghetto-groundedness. Drizzy is no stranger to triumph and chimes in with Okay we made it to America and Nowadays blow the candles out don't even make a wish. And what's that I hear? Ah, the low smolder of the Jeezy growl! (I swear if Jeezy recorded Ulysses I could get through the shit.) Then Nas, the unimpeachable; one can but kneel and kiss the muhfuckn ring.

"Champion" also made me notice that Nicki's become quite the hookmistress. She's got the impactful wail on that song, a few licks learned perhaps from Gyptian for the islandy treat "Gunshot," the earborer "Right By My Side" chorus. I wanted to resent a pop&B song with Chris Brown, but resistance proved futile. If this is pop I'm getting really into pop.


The commonest naysayage about this album is exactly that: It's so pop, whines the straw man. I see it this way: Nicki composed a solid hip hop album, stacked with production, impeccable verses, the requisite guest spots. Then she got a bunch of sugary dancefloor beats, topped them with swag icing and rap sprinkles, and made the album half dessert. Hardly the worst thing.

Some of those pop songs happen to be great. "Va Va Voom" is a worthy successor to "Super Bass": bangingly superficial, and supportive of a cause dear to my heart, that of male objectification. "Pound the Alarm" could make me tear a club limb from limb. It contains this:

Bottle, sip

Bottle, guzzle

I'ma badbitch no muzzle

Which brings me to what I call The "Beez in the Trap" Paradox. It goes like so: if Nicki makes songs that flash the badge of hip hop cred (ooh a sing-songy old school chorus! measured, emphatic raps! manly swagger!) she is keeping it real. If she makes corny pop ballads or club bangers she is pandering and selling out. 

It is understandable that most people prefer to hear Nicki rap rather than sing. That I get. But is not a rapper's top job to spit smart lyrics that sound slick? What part of "Beez" does that better than I'ma badbitch no muzzle or I am the ultimate Svengali/You bitches can't even spell that/You hoes buggin, repel that--both from straw man-dissaproved tracks? Could we not just as easily call "Beez" the pander and sappily sincere "Marilyn Monroe" or fantastically strange "Roman Holiday" the risks?

Straw man may not like it, but there is an oft-corny popstar inside Nicki, and it has clearly been yearning to breathe free. Her pop efforts will fall flat on some ears, but I do believe this is the album Nicki wanted to make. Rap fans can be some conservative muthafuckas, and Nicki is pretty good at ignoring their shocked expressions every time she breaks code.

A rapper is not supposed to dilute the brand by being too soft or weird or accessible. But Nicki could give a fuck less what the rules are. Nor should an artist give a fuck what the rules are.

Nicki explodes out wildly in every possible direction, no matter what happens to be in the way. For that reason she always reminds me of the most important thing: To thine own self be true. Always do you.

IN THE VIDEOPLOG EDITION: clips of aforementioned PF: RR tracks, my "Stupid Hoe" breakdown and cameos from the straw man.





Related  posts: 
Hey Nicki! Hey Nicki! Asthmatic Ode to Nicki Minaj
Millennial Rappers: The 2011 Albums

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