137. Plastic Off The Sofa

Beyoncé: Renaissance (Parkwood Entertainment/Columbia, 2022);
composed by Beyoncé Giselle Knowles-Carter, Sydney Bennett, Sabrina Claudio, Nick Green, and Patrick Paige II

I was a late adapter of Beyoncé, basically because the first decade or so of her busterblocking post-Destiny’s Child career seemed so obvious. I liked “Crazy In Love” fine, loathed “Halo” much, and felt mostly uninvolved with all of it. The kind of Big Pop with a half dozen composer credits per track has no intrinsic need for me to like it, shall we say, so its pleasures tend to hit me in an unscheduled way. Consequently, half the planet already knew that Beyoncé in 2014 was a massive reinvention years before I listened hard and figured it was not only more a reinvention of the whole concept of reinvention, but also that reinvention was a feat that each of the three epochal albums that have followed since have managed in turn. Two of this track’s five co-composers were key members of The Internet, an under-sung offshoot of the long-gone Odd Future collective. Together, these weirdos craft a side-winding evocation of sex that unapologetically stains the upholstery: “I know you can't help but to be yourself 'round me . . . And I know nobody's perfect, so I'll let you be.” I could be wrong, but that sounds like Jay-Z to me.

Note: Secular essays about individual songs, each one exactly 200 words long, appearing one per day through Advant and at least semi-regularly until Donald goes away.