Nicki Minaj - Pink Friday (2010) [Young Money] // Grade: D+

As a cat that’s had a lifelong love of language, I fuck with the Germans linguistically. While English is a wonderfully descriptive and poetic language if you have a large enough vocabulary, nothing beats the brutal succinctness of German. They have single words that it takes entire sentences to explain in English. For instance, in German if I want to describe that feeling of joy you get from watching Steve-O get hit in the balls in Jackass 3-D, I could simply say: Schadenfraude. It’s the joy derived from the misfortunes of others. One word and you tie it all up. Another great German word is Weltschmerz, it’s the sadness you feel when you discover the difference between reality and the ideal.

My idealized version of Nicki Minaj was a chick who looked like a cover girl for Smooth or King Magazine (R.I.P King), could rap as hard as most New York mixtape rappers and had a penchant for slipping into faux valley girl and British accents like some kind of drama club student on a sugar rush. This idealized version of Nicki Minaj as some kind of Schizophrenic Hood Rich Rapping Barbie® was based entirely upon half a mixtape, a freestyle and her guest verse on “Monster.” The reality of Nicki on Pink Friday is that while at one point she showed potential to be a legitimate and interesting rapper, she is instead a sub Rhianna level pop singer and a sub Drake-ian rhymer.

If you were looking for a woman to follow in the footsteps of Lil Kim, Lauryn Hill, Salt N Pepa, Foxy Brown, Trina and Eve then just move on, because this record is not for you (May I suggest Jean Grae instead).  This record is for your 14 year old cousin who has been sucked into the cult of personality that is Nicki Minaj. Your lil’ cousin won’t really care that most of the beats are incredibly tepid and have mostly forgettable choruses  most of which simply consist of Nicki repeating a phrase over and over and over again). Waka she ain’t. Your lil’ cousin will instead focus on Nicki’s shit talking tracks like “Did It On’Em.”. Granted if the hardest bit of shit talking you’ve witnessed was delivered via a snarky Facebook photo comment then this song is straight fire. However, if you’ve heard “Ether” or EL-P’s “Linda Tripp” this song is a non event. There are also her “emotional” tracks (which sound like Rhianna B-sides) like “Fly” and “Save Me.”  I’d skip these songs on a Rhianna album but if that’s your type of jam you’re in for a treat. As a small part of the Nicki Minaj character narrative these songs are successful. But, for that to work you have to already be in love with the character. If you’re not already a fan of Nicki – judging this album through the rose colored lenses of a (girl) crush – it’s a pretty dismal affair.

There are a few tracks though that rise to the level of a decent album cut on a legit pop stars album. “Right Through Me” is a fairly generic victim anthem electro pop song that could’ve easily been written for Keri Hilson, Christina Milian or any other C level RnB chick. There’s maybe two points on it that actually demand having a vocalist who can rap deliver it, but it’s inoffensive enough and kind of catchy.  “Your Love” is a reworking of Annie Lennox’s song by the same name. In the Puffy model of making songs circa 1996 (jack an old beat wholesale and rap over it) it’s successful as Nicki doesn’t fuck up a song that’s already a proven success. However, she doesn’t drop one line that I can recall a mere ten minutes after hearing it.

For the same chick who proclaimed that she was “gonna start rocking gold teeth and fangs” this album is entirely fucking toothless. I can understand what her marketing department was going for here. They wanted to create a female version of Drake, crooning pop star who appeals to the hearts and wallets of 14 year old girls. Except in Nicki they realized that idea by dressing it up in glitter, faux eccentricity and pink wigs rather than in cardigans. I was going to initially say that these songs hit as hard as a Gwen Stefani album but then I went back and skimmed through Stefani’s The Great Escape and that would be an insult to Stefani. While they both claim to embody some sort of new wave feminism, girl power or hegemonic ownership of their sexuality, the white chick from Orange County who is married to the dude from Bush comes way harder than the chick from queens who hangs out with Lil Wayne. Hopefully, at some point whoever holds the reigns to Nicki’s creative output decides to ease up of off the princess fantasy and let’s loose the monster.

- Behold the Destroyer