— 16 Aug 2018 —

Written by Mia Rodriguez

Despite feeling like she is fucking everywhere, it’s been four years since we’ve received an actual album from Nicki Minaj. It’s crazy to write this… but in that time she’s sat and watched former reality star/stripper Cardi B become the biggest female rapper in the world. In response, she brings all the artillery on Queen. It’s a monster of an album, showcasing Minaj’s well-known versatility as a rapper and singer. And that’s largely a good thing, because most of what she tries on this project comes naturally to her. But will it take the throne back from fellow New Yorkian Cardi B? Probably not.

First off, Queen is an album about complete dominance. Minaj is basically really sick of men. She shouts through an air horn on this album: “you broke my heart and now ever since/I just want them dead presidents”. That might feel like a throwaway line at the end of the otherwise-forgettable ‘Thought I Knew You’,  but it actually sums up her mission statement on this album well. She craves being on top these days – financially, in the music world, and especially in the bedroom. Every song here, except for the oddly soft ballad ‘Come See About Me’, reeks of chest-pumping confidence.

Even though it is obsessed with bravado and dominance, Queen isn’t trying to be an album of front-to-back bangers. This is a diverse, see-sawing album and the one constant is Nicki – who roars or twinkles depending on what’s required. She bursts out the doors with the simmering, jungle-esque ‘Ganja Burns’: “ayo, as the world turns, the blunt burns/watch them cunts learn”. The second verse has her memorably chastising the masses and anyone who compares themselves to the greats – Notorious B.I.G., Jay-Z, Kanye, Beyonce. But then the follow-up is the exceedingly corny ‘Majesty’, co-produced and featuring Eminem in late-career Em rapping-fast-for-the-sake-of-it mode. But ‘Ganja Burns’ sets the stakes for the listener – blunt rapping, soft singing, and plenty of throne-claiming.

And then you get to the track that already has a lot of people talking. Nicki Minaj can say what she wants, but ‘Barbie Dreams’ is her attempt at a classic rap diss track. Minaj takes Rashad Smith’s beat from Notorious B.I.G.’s classic song “Just Playing (Dreams)” and proceeds to tongue-in-cheek name-call about half of the men in rap. Like most diss tracks, it’s not as great as everyone wants it to be – slightly silly and definitely forced. There are some eye-opening and genuinely funny moments – Meek Mill gets particularly savaged when she uses his own line against him (“Meek still be in my dms, I be havin’ to duck him/I used to pray for times like this! face-ass when I fuck him”). But all in all it’s about creating headlines more than anything else.

It’s interesting that some of the combinations that you wouldn’t think would work on Queen end up being its most effective. ‘Bed’ is a muted single featuring Ariana Grande. It should be hopelessly lame, but their mix actually feels surprisingly natural – Grande belts out the chorus like it’s the last thing she’ll say on Earth while Minaj seductively cooes on the verses in a no-nonsense matter. ‘Chun Swae’, produced by Metro Boomin, is the best track on the project. It has a classic barely-there Boomin beat – all flat drums and skittering hi-hats. It would be completely stolen by Swae Lee, who sings angelically over the hook and his verse, if not for Nicki’s best rapping on the album. She lifts her voice at the end of each line memorably giving it a New York twinge (“Bitch, I’m the sauce/Barbie drippin’, I’m the boss/Barbie sippin’, they keep tellin’ me to work, I ain’t got no chores). The way she says “dinner with Karl Lagerfield, yah” will roll around in your brain.

But equally, too many moments feel wasted. Early tracks “Rich Sex’ and ‘Hard White’ are throwaways featuring forgettable hooks. The straight-up boring ‘Thought I Knew You’ grinds the album’s momentum to a halt. ‘Sir’ features the obligatory mailed-in Future verse that seems to appear on every major album release these days and ‘Miami’ feels like a tacked-on bonus track. The big problems with these moments is that they lack the boldness that is usually Minaj’s best asset. They just come and go without much fanfare and – worst of all – it feels like Nicki’s not pushing herself. We’ve developed high expectations for her since that verse. But all the same, of the 19 tracks on this thing, too many just float by.

Conversely, when Minaj tries to tackle more daring production she often comes out triumphant. A rapper with as much versatility as her should be throwing everything at the wall and just fucking rapping over it. Deep-cut ‘Good Form’ has a glittery Mike WiLL Made It beat and she absolutely dominates it. The way she controls her flow on the refrain and shouts Go! in the background is a masterclass on how to not let a beat get the better of you. ‘Coco Chanel’ is another highlight. It has a dark, dank J Beatzz beat with Minaj and the legendary Foxy Brown sounding near-demonic on it. If Minaj wants to make a truly classic album, she should follow the blueprints of these tracks.

But it’s also obvious that this album was a bit rushed. The rapper had alluded to this before – notably concerning issues with clearing samples. A track featuring Nas didn’t make the cut due to sampling, and some of the weaker tracks shouldn’t have made it at all. But weirdest of all is the album’s closer, ‘Inspirations Outro’, which is just an extension of the ‘Coco Chanel’ beat with Nicki giving some shoutouts to her Jamaican influences. The only explanation has to be that she had to rush to get this album out. Minaj’s in-your-face style should be tailor-made for producing a booming closing track. It’s a jarring way to finish the album.

There’s no doubt Nicki Minaj has full control of her abilities at this point in her career. She contorts her voice on this album wherever it’s needed without blinking. Her rapping is always competent and thoughtful and her singing is effortless. It just feels at times on Queen that she isn’t pushing the limit. She can afford to take some more risks. It ends up a skilled, occasionally-exciting LP. We want more from her these days. If she won’t give it, Cardi will.

7.0