Joining Spinal Tap’s fictional Jazz Odyssey and Guns ‘N’ Roses’ sadly all too real Chinese Democracy in the hallowed ranks of near mythic, much talked about records, Rihanna’s Anti has now finally seen the light of day. This is thanks, in part, to an apparent cock-up, when it appeared prematurely on Jay Z’s streaming service Tidal.
In proper “you couldn’t make it up” style, after months, nay years even, of build-up, which included a mobile only website that transmitted cryptic messages, and the unveiling of the artwork in an elite LA gallery, her eighth studio album prematurely ejaculated on the internet, leaving countless red faces in its wake.
Still, Jay Z’s loss is the pop world’s gain as we finally get to hear what she’s been cooking up since she left her long time label Def Jam and broke her tradition of releasing (or re-releasing) a record a year since 2005 to go on hiatus. At its core, Anti is a vehicle which will be used to help RiRi re-brand herself as a “serious artist”. And no harm in that. Gone are the see-through (but hugely catchy) club/gym bangers like ‘Shut Up And Drive’ and ‘Cheers (Drink To That)’. In their place, housed inside a sleeve swathed in Braille, are off-kilter, weird, world-weary and occasionally wonderful ruminations on life as the world’s biggest pop star.
Opening proceedings with the dancehall and trap-infused ‘Consideration’, Rihanna drawls in her native Bajan Creole “I got to do things my own way darling”. She’s leaving no one in any doubt that the Rihanna circa ‘We Found Love’ is dead and buried, at least for now, before going on to boast “Let me cover your shit in glitter/ I can make it gold.” Whether this is intended as a reference to her rejection of tracks written by Calvin Harris, Grimes et al during Anti’s creation, we’ll probably never know, but it’s a super self-confident way to begin a record.
Though much of the music does feel oddly unfinished and some songs feel as if they needed at least an extra few bars of music to reach a satisfying climax (‘James Joint’, ‘Never Ending’), RiRi’s sheer star power shines through regardless. The waltzing ’50s torch song ‘Love On The Brain’ is a humdinger of a classic, as is the brooding, bass heavy ‘Desperado’. And ‘Woo’ which boasts squealing alternative guitars and goose-bump raising distorted vocals, is another winner.
Was it worth the four-year wait? Well, many old school/long-term Rihanna fans may complain that it isn’t the anthem-laden album they were hoping for. For sure, there are moments where you start to pine for the glorious immediacy of ‘What’s My Name?’ or ‘Diamonds’. Plus, last year’s sterling ‘Bitch Better Have My Money’ is notable by its absence. But a different, more genuinely mature artist is emerging into the full light of day here.
As a statement of intent, Anti gives a solid, sonic middle finger to industry expectations. And at its best, it is an exciting, brave, sometimes dangerous-sounding delve into RiRi’s dark side. It is a courageous move, in an era when being unpredictable is generally frowned upon. Welcome back Ms Fenty.