Nicki Minaj has gone from Internet sensation to global pop star in a
little more than two years. In that time, her image has transitioned
from hypersexed battle rhymer to cartoonish button-pusher, with many of
her critics deriding her stylistic schizophrenia and controversial
performances as tell-tale signs of an artist more concerned with
gimmickry than artistry.
On her second album, Pink Friday: Roman Reloaded, Minaj doesn't exactly shatter that perception.
The album, divided glaringly between a hip hop-centric first half and
a more dance-pop themed second half, showcases all that her fans love
about Young Money's First Lady--and everything that her critics despise.
On the positive side, her rhymes are as nimble and oddly quotable as
ever--and when she's on, she's one of the more clever and inventive
rhymers in mainstream hip hop today.
But when she's off?
Well...we'll get to that part later.
The Afrika Bambaataa-referencing "Roman Holiday," despite its
famously-loathed Grammy performance, is an entertaining oddity that
reintroduces Minaj's male alter-ego Roman Zolanski. Not that the
character is as central to the album as the title suggests--'Roman' is
barely a focus throughout the remainder of the album.
The bass-heavy "Beez In the Trap" is a banger and benefits from an
appropriately loopy 2 Chainz appearance; and the frenetic "Come On A
Cone" features Nicki at her most boastful and off-the-wall, rapping
lines like "Put the b*tches on lockout, where the f**k is ya roster?"
and "Put me on ya song/But ya know it'll cost six figures long." It's
easily the best thing on the album. "I Am Your Leader" re-treads similar
territory as "…Cone" and suffers by comparison, with
spirited-but-unremarkable guest turns by Cam'ron and Rick Ross.
The Lil Wayne-featured "Roman Reloaded" is fairly standard Young Money,
seemingly echoing Weezy's own "A Milli" but without an ounce of that
tracks infectiousness. Nicki attempts to remind everyone that she began
as around-the-way-girl and gives shout-outs to the the Violas, Sherikas,
Lauryns and Ieshas on the triumphant "Champion," one of the album's
strongest, if somewhat formulaic, tracks.
The second half of the album sags considerably under the weight of
Nicki's half-baked pop vocal aspirations. "Sex In the Lounge" is almost
amazingly uninspired. A song about sex shouldn't be this unsexy and
features far too much Bobby V. in what can best be described as a
phoned-in performance.
Sadly, things go downhill from there. As
hip hop's most high-profile female emcee decides to shoot for Katy
Perry-ish Top 40 pop and Gaga-influenced dance grooves.
And she falls decidedly short of even attaining either of those fairly-modest ambitions.
Minaj
is at her best as a fire-breathing bizarro wordsmith with idiosyncratic
voices and references; so the generic material she's chosen to display
her vocal 'abilities' comes as something of a disappointment.
"Starships" is sub-LMFAO dance pop, with its banal hook ("Starships were
meant to fly…") and run-of-the-mill production. "Pound the Alarm" and
"Whip It" both feature more of the same: bubbly Eurodance with generic
hooks and none of the charisma or wit that Nicki displayed on the
album's hip hop-focused first half.
The album closer, "Marilyn Monroe," is Minaj's heavily-AutoTuned attempt
to ape the Clarkstons and Ke$has of the world, and is robbed of any
emotional resonance by Minaj's cybernetic vocals and a cluttered
production.
Nicki Minaj is one of the more polarizing superstars in music today, and Roman Reloaded is likely to be a polarizing album. Minaj should be applauded for her willingness to take risks, but the musical detours on …Reloaded
feel so forced and phoned-in that its not a stretch to believe that not
even Nicki believes in them. It's telling that the dance pop songs are
herded to the album's second half, and she never sounds comfortable
aping Madonna.
Its a shame, because if Nicki truly believed in her sound as much as
she claims, she could've made quite a compelling album. Instead, Roman Reloaded stands as a half-baked miss that showcases an artist in the midst of an as-of-yet unrealized transition.
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