Rihanna
Unapologetic

Twenty-four years, seven studio albums in the span of seven years and a little more, a rich array of number ones, a record label with related executives and pimps who pamper her as if she were Cleopatra on the triclinium and also an ugly episode of violence suffered from the ex-boyfriend-colleague-singer-rapper: Rihanna has now become, in the eyes of the populace and the stage - somewhere between solid and shaky - of the music biz the King Midas of quick, fast, and painless gains, a kind of war machine complete with records, scandals, dizzying sex appeal and outings on the edge between scorching, embarrassing, and voluptuous. In a period where the major labels' earnings are waning, physical formats are collecting dust on the shelves, and piracy is about to make its entrance into some constitutional text, the Barbadian class of '88 perfectly embodies the ideals of today's mainstream pop: easy songs, hits specially crafted to gather - like the Pied Piper with his mice - the widest audience possible, pompous shows combined with the classic theory "sex+trash+dance = lots of money" and above all the desire to monopolize consumers' attention on that precise figure through an endless tour-de-force of releases, outputs, and new productions.

In a fairly short period of time, Rihanna's tactic (mostly that of bosses and pimps of her realm) to reach success, number ones and multimillion-dollar deals has been that of chameleonism à la Madonna, just more brazen, rushed, and sometimes left incomplete; accompanied by the best constellation of producers and features (Stargate, David Guetta, Jay-Z, will.i.am, and so on), the artist has changed clothes, face, (body), mood, and themes in not even twenty-four months: from the gyrating and almost innocent girl of Pon de Replay the journey to the arrival of the sexy bomb of Umbrella, the dark overtones of Russian Roulette and the toxicmania of We Found Love was realized in just a few scant temporal steps. And in all this beautiful aesthetic-erotic-sonic stew the sinful liaison with the contender for the Jacksonian throne, Mr. Chris Brown, creator of the transformation of the Disney-like love fairy tale into an apocalypse of a thousand and one slaps; the affair, with great media clamor, instead of annihilating (or even undermining) the sexual-lush ego of the Barbadian, acted as a detonator to a fiery exacerbation of such red-light aspirations in music videos (S&M, You Da One, We Found Love), shots, concerts, outfits, and appearances that would be the icing on the cake served at the annual feast of the lustful.

And yet, leaving aside the erotomania, the brazenness, the crude commercialism of her product, and the manipulation of the current mainstream landscape, Rihanna & producers have the power to captivate even the most disenchanted and uninterested to a single song/single: it is precisely the attempt - almost kaleidoscopic - to become the Madonna of the Two Thousand and something, handling everything with everyone, mixing, blending, summoning the wizards of the sound and releasing an album every time a mosquito dies to make the joyful young lady a mighty tank of today's pop, collecting a fan base of sympathizers and increasing curious listeners more and more available to listen to her creations.

"Unapologetic" is, as already pointed out, the seventh album in seven years of activity and picks up the legacy of Loud, cacophonic, catchy, and very easy, and Talk That Talk, an attempt (quite successful, at least commercially) to slip between the disco antics (We Found Love) and hip-hop/dancehall origins. Acclaimed by the most die-hard fans as the new Rated R (a more refined and dark work, influenced by the blow taken from Brown), this another collection of audience-hooking tracks aims to build a more substantial, convincing, and mature project compared to the past, a way to be noticed by critics and the masses as a complete artist and not blatantly banal and commercial. Indeed, we are faced with a less immediate and facile record, a seventh studio work that - precisely - eschews frivolity and glitz. The underlying problem, however, remains the same: the obsessive search for everything and everyone unable to provide the project (still good) a well-marked and understandable thread. A common factor of electronic-dubstep sounds, lazy hip-hop beats, retro atmospheres, Jacksonian revivals, and tear-jerker ballads, Unapologetic approaches the "ardor" of Rated R - the latter endowed with a unique thread - but cannot overlap it. Among the fourteen tracks that comprise the tracklist, it is worth mentioning the first excerpt Diamonds, a sort of electronic-soul marriage in a romantic ballad, the brazen duet with the abusive ex Chris Brown Nobody's Business, a tasty retro dance-lounge track (also acclaimed as the sequel to Jackson's The Way You Make Me Feel), the very flashy Right Now with David Guetta and Jump, a dubstep compromise with the Chase&Status crew; mentionable, finally, is the duet with Eminem (!!) in the ghetto-style Numb, the electro-hip hop Phresh Out The Runway, the soft R&B of Loveeeee Song (real title) and the long ballad Love Without a Tragedy/Mother Mary.

Rihanna: for some the death of music, for others the heiress of spectacular pop, for still others a good onanistic pastime. On a musical level, we are faced with a fierce mixer, sometimes inflationary and wild manipulator, but with an exceptional ability to be pervasive in everything and everyone, to choose the heap and not the straw. To you the due conclusions.

Rihanna, Unapologetic: Phresh Off The Runway - Diamonds - Numb - Pour It Up - Loveeeee Song - Jump - Right Now - What Now - Stay - Nobody's Business - Love Without Tragedy/Mother Mary - Get It Over With - No Love Allowed - Lost In Paradise.