the album isn’t good. i am a free thinker. have never EVER followed the crowd. and am able to effectively detach the artist from their latest work.
for me, Solange has carved a presence within the Hollywood paradigm that seamlessly attaches to this new movement of individuals who do not identify themselves by the standards set forth in mainstream society. she very intentionally packages her projects in wrappings that intertwine the fibers of high art, black lives, women empowerment & undertones of what i like to call: psychedelic soul.
however, if being one hundred percent honest, i am quite disappointed in Solange’s latest, “WHEN I GET HOME” offering. the album as a whole is missing the solid hooks, melodies, choruses & background harmonies that made me truly appreciate the rich textures evident in her predecessor.
Solange’s latest music release is nothing more to me than a pretentious, minimalistic ode to avant-garde sound — a baseless project that would be dragged for all unholy filth had it been delivered by Teyana Taylor, Faith, Mya, Ashanti, Lil Mo, Jennifer Hudson, Alicia Keys or any other belle of the R&B or soul landscape.
let’s just be honest with ourselves for five minutes…
aside from the layered promise evident in her outstanding inclusion of “Dream”, the rest of the barely there records shaping “WHEN I GET HOME”, are lacking in clear song structure. Solange not only abandons the core lyricism & solid experimental urban flare of her Grammy deserving, “SEAT AT THE TABLE” album, but she lacks pure conviction in any sense of vocal delivery on what are labeled the “songs” of this new era.
i was definitely expecting a non-traditional vibe from Solange when marketing began to land late last week, but i was not prepared for Pandora mood music packaged under the guise of a real, promoted LP.
i have been listening to Solange’s latest works since it’s midnight release on March 1, 2019. i think it was genius for her to pair what she knew would be the first listens of her bits-n-pieces project with the relaxed, zoned out atmosphere of bedtime hours. a midnight release rightfully paralleled the moon & stars vibe of every track.
otherwise, the material that comprises “WHEN I GET HOME” falls into the pedestrian rhythm of ironing & folding clothes on a Sunday type music.
the ultimate truth is… Solange gets by on her ability to hide behind the perceived idea of being this high priestess of incense depth & fragile eccentricities. the public has bought into her newfound persona & try hard efforts of being so far left of her contemporaries that releasing an album filled with quiet noise would still receive praise from cattle consumers of america.
but no other thirty something female artist or performer of our generation would be given a ground level pass to release this type of weak & fragile material as a solid body of studio work in the music industry of RIGHT NOW! nobody.
this is the public … buying into the act & dictatorship of “we love & embrace our WOKE sista, because this is what everyone else around me is highlighting as cool, mattering, messaging ART”.
it’s much like the hype surrounding our beloved Frank Ocean — remove the entity from the music, place the recordings without visuals on its own mantel & still try to love it for real. we possibly … would not.
and no one is willing or wanting to admit this truth. at least not publicly.
theartofmadeline
dededos
baratheonpilled
areudirty
titsay
romaincrisis
tangentwithtanner
