Billboard reports that the new album might sell 30,000 copies in its first week—not quite half what Mariah Carey’s latest sold in its opening week and Lopez’s lowest-ever first-week sales number for a studio album. The critical response hasn’t been kind either. The Daily Beast calls A.K.A. “at best, a hodgepodge of rip-offs of other musicians’ styles and, at worst, just horribly bland.” Grantland’s Molly Lambert, chronicling J.Lo’s bumpy transition into “MILF pop,” puts it bluntly: “This has not been the best month to be Jennifer Lopez.”
And yet, none of that matters. Because for the last 15 years, dating back to her multiplatinum 1999 debut, On the 6, Jennifer Lopez has quietly remained one of her generation’s most consistent female pop stars. She also remains one of the most important Latina pop stars. I don’t want to overstate her musical greatness: Her albums have always had more filler than they should. But that’s part of the point—they’ve always had such tracks. As tends to happen, she was probably overpraised at the peak of her popularity. But now that her records’ sales have begun to wane, her musical career is becoming distinctly underrated.
Really, none of J.Lo’s albums post-2002’s This Is Me… Then—her last real hit—are deserving of the amount of negative criticism they have received. Yes, they’re occasionally awkward in their attempts at reinvention. Unpack those albums, though, and you’ll find they each contain at least one overlooked gem—be it a self-reflective ballad about her divorce or a slow-burning scorcher with Azalea—that demonstrates her resiliency as a pop star.
As tends to happen, she was probably overpraised at the peak of her popularity. But now that her records’ sales have begun to wane, her musical career is becoming distinctly underrated.
