Janelle Monáe is probably the first pop star ever to write and record a multi-suite album about robots in a made-up Metropolis. But if anyone can pull it off, Monáe can. The Kansas native and aspiring Broadway star-turned-singer-songwriter is an extremely gifted vocalist and writer.
After giving up the stage and making her way to Atlanta, Monáe made nice with Big Boi and eventually Diddy, who made it his priority to produce her EP Metropolis, Suite I: The Chase for Bad Boy Entertainment. Inspired by Fritz Lang’s sci-fi film “Metropolis,” Monáe crafted an ambiguous and ambitious space opera to frame her music. With a taut, slick and fresh production touch, The Chase brought her recognition and tour material. Fast-forward an excruciating three years and we have all the hype and screaming that comes with her towering, long awaited, first full-length release: The ArchAndroid.
With 18 tracks, overtures, segues and high-gloss production pop, The ArchAndroid is a beast of an album. Running over an hour, it’s essentially two EPs laid back-to-back, barreling through just about every popular (and unpopular) genre in pop music’s recent memory.
With a foundation in soul and funk, Monáe’s Android is a fresh, boundless trek through melody, concept and performance. Its wide-reaching drive recalls sprawling landmarks like Stevie Wonder’s Songs in the Key of Life and Prince’s Sign ‘O’ the Times. Monáe’s voice is a remarkable beauty — it’s funky and pretty, and does just about everything it set out to do. And with Android, Monáe accomplishes quite a bit, even when the end result slips.
Highlights on a varied album like this are tough to pull out because for most listeners, they’ll be entirely subjective. “Tightrope” is a blistering take on James Brown funk, with more melody. It’s a production masterpiece; with a cluttering kit drum backbeat, chicken-scratch guitar, gospel backing vocals and just about every trick thrown on top — with Monáe cast strong as bandleader. Following “Suite II Overture,” the first three proper tracks on the album are an exhilarating bunch, from “Dance or Die” with its Fela stomp to the Off the Wall-era MJ disco of “Lost Inside.” Throughout, Monáe is a flexible, commanding and powerful presence. From breezy bubblegum pop on “Wondaland” to heartfelt soul on “Neon Valley Street” to piano balladry on “Say You’ll Go,” the list of successes goes on and on.
And yet, for all of its sublime moments, Android has some clunkers, and some of the worst mistakes trip up otherwise great songs. “Tightrope” swings along under Monáe’s powerful voice — until Big Boi’s tacky verse takes a shit on the whole production. “Oh Maker” blends a delightfully kitschy serving of ABBA, Stevie Wonder and the best of Mariah Carey ballads, but it ends before it can amount to much of anything. Of Montreal’s “collaboration” features so little of Monáe that it simply doesn’t fit in at all. The two overtures and recycled tracks like “Neon Gumbo” are skip-able diversions that cut Android’s flow in nasty ways. For an album with so much on its plate, Android could afford to lose some weight.
In the end, The ArchAndroid thrills and chills with equal impact, hitting rapturous highs and scraping occasional, unmemorable lows. But Monáe is such a refreshing presence that her full-length debut is required listening, even if you only dig half the tracks.
It’s a ridiculous, ambitious effort from a creative new talent, and here’s to hoping Monáe’s in it for the long run. With a little bit of focus, she can paint a clearer picture of her quirky, limitless Metropolis — God knows she has the talent to do it.