Shakira sticks to shaking it
“SHE WOLF,” Shakira (Epic)
The way Shakira moves, she might consider only making dance music.
That’s what the Colombian superstar almost does on “She Wolf,” a new collection of songs that gives her ample opportunity to shake and shimmy. She could even work some moves into the lone midtempo cut, the world-music flavored “Gypsy,” as she sings such lines as, “I might steal your clothes and wear them if they fit me.”
But she’s not out to steal your heart with ballads, not this time. Instead, she dispatches her signature quavering voice to an ever-changing rhythmic churn — and for good measure does some adorable, girlie howling on the title track, a modern disco-funk cut that boldly modulates her trademark vocal into something unrecognizable. And succeeds.
Shakira doesn’t have grand social aspirations here, but there’s a good deal of ambition on display as she grinds through many sub-genres of dance. The results find the singer mixing it up in the sultry, Latin-spiced “Long Time,” kicking across the rocking go-go strains of “Mon Amour” and moaning in the slapping pop of “Did It Again.” Meanwhile, she commands a “Why Wait” that features abrasive electronic riffs, Mideastern nuance and rollicking percussion to accompany her sensual announcement, “It’s only me and your conscience tonight.”
A few tracks are more serviceable than special, including the forced marriage of Latin to techno on “Good Stuff” and the smoldering sophist ication of a “Spy” that goes nowhere, unaided by a guest appearance from Wyclef Jean.
As always, Shakira works in her droll moments with endearing, albeit peculiar, lyrics. She jealously wishes the worst of luck to her would-be lover as he goes off with his chosen mate: “I really hope you have a horrible vacation ... And your room smells and the toilet doesn’t flush and the locals treat you mean.” By contrast, on the seductive “Long Time” she sings, “I wish I had longer legs that I could fasten to your body so you’d take me with you everywhere.”
The playful singer may not aim to change the world, but she certainly makes it more fun.
Rating (five possible): 4
50 Cent seems to be losing it in limbo
“BEFORE I SELF-DESTRUCT,” 50 Cent (Aftermath)
A decade ago Eminem, and then a few years later his protege 50 Cent, elevated rap music with humor and depth. But on their 2009 releases, they simply sound stale.
As a reflective 50 notes on “Then Days Went By,” a drowsy track on his new “Before I Self-Destruct,” time marches on regardless of fate. And whereas Eminem seemed blithely lost in the past with his recent “Relapse,” 50 seems more aware of his diminishing relevance, if unsure what to do about it.
“Before I Self-Destruct” opens terribly with “The Invitation,” a familiar apocalypse with popping gunfire and his declaration that, “I let my pistol speak for me.” Gunplay has never sounded more played out.
Still, the charismatic rapper with the soulful drawl carries on, and his commitment to thuggish, bulldozing braggadocio is in irrepressible form on “Death to My Enemies” and “Crime Wave,” his power accentuated by the edgy simplicity of the arrangements. On the flipside, he goes for a giddy spin on the frolicsome “So Disrespectful” and catches fire in the infectious chorus of the high-voltage “Get It Hot.”
Yet his perspective is all over the place: There’s misogynistic hypocrisy to his boasts of the luxuries he can provide a woman coupled with his distaste for gold diggers. (How about letting them take responsibility for their own financial well being?) Plus there’s the juxtaposition of him both condemning and embracing the gangsta lifestyle, and his “Gangsta’s Delight,” a remake of Sugarhill Gang’s “Rapper’s Delight,” is unimaginably bleak. It doesn’t help that the most memorable lyric on “Psycho,” a duet with Eminem, is Em’s line, “Beat the Octomom to death with a Cabbage Patch Kid.”
Cabbage Patch Kids? Really?
“Before I Self-Destruct” isn’t a total collapse, though even when 50 scores, he isn’t advancing the game.
Rating: 3
Rihanna attempts to stay on track
“RATED R,” Rihanna (Def Jam)
When Rihanna went back into the arms of abusive boyfriend Chris Brown, she went from victim to part of the problem. The singer from Barbados had the world on her side when Brown was charged with assaulting her earlier this year — but not so much after the reconciliation.
They eventually split for good and Rihanna has been on damage control ever since. And unfortunately, that very personal situation overshadows her new “Rated R” as she tries to keep her remarkable pop career on track.
Unfair as it may be, the 21-year-old singer can’t escape her legacy, and she addresses it directly and indirectly, coming across as broken, defiant, angry and nonchalant — all of which are valid feelings, though they ultimately sound like an emotional bob and weave from a derailed woman trapped in an irreverent pop/electro context. First single “Russian Roulette” is a creepy revenge song, complete with firing gun at the end, but in striking contrast, the push-and-flicker “Rude Boy” has lines such as, “Give it to me baby, like boom boom boom ... I like the way you pull my hair.” Ouch, in every sense of the word.
Rihanna is at her best when she simply conveys sadness. She isn’t a great singer, but she’s getting better at toning down her tinniness, an improvement especially apparent in the melancholy cuts, such as the finger-snapping confessional “Stupid in Love,” the regret-packed “Fire Bomb” and a wistful shapeshifter of a song, “Photographs,” featuring will.i.am and a rhythmic push largely absent on the rest of “Rated R.”
That’s Rihanna’s biggest problem on “Rated R”: Over and over the tracks get stuck in neutral with no memorable melody. The music becomes a hindrance, locking the singer in a claustrophobic dungeon of sluggishness while she sorts out her feelings.
There’s no “Umbrella” here, and Rihanna seems lost in the rain.
Rating: 3
© 2009, Knoxville News Sentinel Co.
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