Review Summary: Nicki Minaj: human after all
Rap music loves larger than life personalities; the closer an artist edges towards a caricature of themselves as opposed to a relatable person, the more fans attach themselves to the artist’s stories. Cartoonish levels of violence and absurdly comical boasts are inescapable within rap with an apparent arms race of one-upmanship taking place to see who can deliver the most over the top lines. Ever since appearing on the scene with the earth shattering Monster verse which essentially ended that particular competition Nicki Minaj began cultivating a more pop star-like image. Amazingly though, over the course of four years she has managed to keep listeners at arm’s length; I mean, how much does anyone actually know about Nicki Minaj?
The answer to that question depends entirely on if you've heard her latest album, The Pinkprint, or not. Break-up albums are becoming increasingly more common and 2014 has seen no shortage (Coldplay, Black Keys, Lykke Li) but this undoubtedly ranks as the most unexpected. Until now Minaj’s private life has, quite astonishingly, remained impressively private. Until now that is. Following a split from long-term boyfriend and her “executive producer” Safaree Samuels, she is finally ready to reveal her true self on record. The Pinkprint largely presents itself as an album by Onika Tanya Maraj, one that is unashamedly raw, vulnerable and genuinely tender at times.
Surprisingly for someone who has so adamantly avoided airing her grievances in public, she is almost uncomfortably forthcoming with the details. First track All Things Go finds Minaj tearing through an array of issues from her failed relationship to hinting at an abortion, her pointed delivery adding extra weight to her words; there are no changes in her flow or accentual idiosyncrasies, Minaj is playing it straight and giving up more personal details in five minutes than she has done previously in her entire career. The same can be said of I Lied and The Crying Game with her plainly stating “all I want is to love and be loved” on the latter. It’s a far-cry from demanding that you “watch the Queen conquer” but they reflect the frailty of her mental state and paint Minaj as a dejected lover backed by brooding drums and nocturnal synths. The effect is successfully disorienting; the Nicki Minaj of these opening songs is a million miles from the pop diva responsible for hits like Starships and Pound the Alarm.
The bulletproof Nicki Minaj of old still makes an appearance, turning up for the middle section of the album. Tellingly, she REALLY arrives on the most star studded track; Feeling Myself. It is a victory lap for Minaj and Beyoncé following the Flawless remix and acts as a reminder that the two women are peerless right now. It’s one of the album’s standout tracks as Nicki shows off various facets of her personality; she’s tough, funny, cocky and sassy, firing off masturbation punchlines and calling out any competition. It’s the only time on the album where she sounds like the queen she claimed to be and should show any doubters that she is still untouchable when she wants to be.
Interestingly, the rest of the time that it’s Nicki Minaj performing it feels like a façade. Singles Only and Anaconda along with Want Some More especially feel reactionary to the vulnerability Minaj has previously allowed herself to display and seem to try to reconstruct that wall that separates her from the audience. Whilst the songs make more sense when placed in the context of the album it doesn’t make them any less of a struggle to listen to. Elsewhere with Nicki controlling proceedings the album begins to drag a little. Favourite completely squanders Jeremih’s considerable talents and ends up as a lacklustre R&B number whilst The Night is Still Young is a generic EDM-leaning pop song. Four Door Aventador and Trini Dem Girls dip into Jamaican dancehall but only really serve as a showcase of Minaj’s verbal dexterity without actually saying anything of note.
Thankfully Onika returns to close the album as it began with a trio of introspective ballad-y tracks over some haunting piano. Pills N Potions in particular is a bittersweet send off with her admitting that despite everything she’s been through, all the pain and heartache as well as all she’s done to try and get over her failed relationship she simply can’t. The repeated refrain of “I still love” is devastating in its simplicity, especially coming from an artist that everyone is impatiently waiting on to release a densely lyrical rap album.
In the end this isn’t quite the Barbie of rap's Blood on the Tracks but Nicki Minaj has pulled away the curtain and shown the world that beneath all the punchlines and bravado she’s still just a woman capable of having her heart broken, just like everyone else. Ultimately this is the deeply personal record promised by the thumb print on the cover, even if it should really read Onika Tanya Maraj underneath.
