Review Summary: A mostly fun dance effort weighed down by its obligations to the artist behind the mic, Beyonce's Renaissance is more of a drunken proclamation than actual radical change.
At some point in the last decade, Beyonce was canonized into something beyond mere pop royalty. What moment that was, exactly, could vary from person to person. Was it the Super Bowl? Was the ushering in of the Surprise Album with her self-titled effort? Was it the titalizing bloodletting of Lemonade? Was it The Gift? (Kidding). The answer itself is less important than the fact that everyone kind of agrees that Beyonce is not merely pop royalty, but a pop deity. That her latest effort, and her first solo album in six years, is titled
Renaissance and features her looking like a painting from that era on a shimmering, heavenly horse is surely meant to be a statement. Beyonce is temporarily coming down from the heavens to bless and bestow another cluster of instagram captions, ass shaking anthems, and capital-M Moments to soundtrack the summer.
Well, that’s at least how it’s supposed to be.
Following the release of Drake’s aptly titled
Honestly, Nevermind, Beyonce has also chosen to step into the gay clubs and laser tag arenas of yesteryear and take a stab at doing a big ol’ House album. The results are undeniably better than Mr Graham’s horrific crooning, but the whole thing is far from the slam dunk that it would appear to be on first blush. “Break My Soul” was a high energy taste and a pretty good showcase of what this album could have been in theory, with its Big Freedia sampling and bouncy synths perfectly complementing Beyonce’s soaring vocals and impassioned (albeit, pandering) lyrics. Sadly, that’s one of the only instances where the album fully clicks and delivers on its premise.
That’s not to say that there aren’t other highlights. “Virgo’s Groove” and “Plastic Off the Sofa” are going to turn heads -or at least make them bob- with their stank face-inducing basslines and playful vocal deliveries, but they fall much more in line with the disco revival than the house music this album purports to be.
The decision to not be as married to the concept as Drake was is a smart one, because it appears that there was at least one cool head that prevailed on the album’s impressive list of credits: the marriage between Beyonce and house music simply doesn’t work for an entire album. House music is something that is, by design, meant to be high energy and push vocals, however soaring or impressive, into the background of irresistible beats. You simply can’t do that with Queen Bey on the mic and a brand to uphold. This winds up with the songs essentially at war with themselves constantly with the production both trying to be bouncy enough to make you dance, but not distracting enough to detract from constantly reminding you that you are listening to Beyonce.
At best, this kneecaps songs that could have been pretty good were the production allowed to be pushed a little further (“Thique” and “America Has a Problem” are so close to being a masterpiece), but at worst you wind up with songs that lack identity or a justification, with “Heated” being the clear misfire of somehow creating the ineffable: a club song fronted by Beyonce that is a snoozefest. “Pure/Honey” is a clear highlight of the house concept, but it’s the penultimate track and serves as a reminder of just how much of a missed opportunity this album turned out to be.
Renaissance is sure to spark a lot of conversation in the short term -is it the start of a trilogy? Did she do it better than Drake? (yes) Does she have class solidarity with the proletariat as hinted on tracks like “Break My Soul”? (no). But at the end of the day, it’s a decent dance album that is respectful to its source material. It’s just kind of a shame that with the money and lineup thrown at this thing, the source material
Renaissance respects is Beyonce herself much more than the house music revolution it’s been marketed to be.
