Earlier this year, Jay Z unveiled his own blockbuster album, amid fanfare about his game-changing #newrules; we’ve seen wildly hyped rollouts of albums by West, Cyrus, Gaga, and others. But with her shock-and-awe assault, Beyoncé has made them all look like amateurs.
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But Beyoncé has more on her mind than outselling Katy Perry. This album is awfully close to a masterpiece and should stop cold those old cranks who have dismissed Beyoncé as “merely” a pop star. It’s a showpiece for Beyoncé’s fearsome musicianship and, yes, for her ideas; it will take a long time to finish sorting through the barrage of sensations and signifiers that ricochet through these songs. It’s not just a collection of songs but, verily, an album, in the classic high-rock-era conceptual sense.
Bee making her own husband look amateur.
What kind of feminist.
