By Antonio Serros, Staff Writer
COMEBACK: Queen Bey makes an unexpected return to reclaim her pop music kingdom.
For nearly a year, Beyoncé was falling into the same void of public obscurity as Michelle and LaTavia, her crown lying shattered on the marble floor of a deserted palace. But Beyoncé is, perhaps, the only true survivor of Destiny’s Child. She outlasted the tragic fall of 4 and rise of new pop princesses only to return seemingly out of nowhere to once again seize the throne.
The secret album, lacking any form of marketing or publicity, surprised the Beyhive with its unannounced debut on iTunes on December 13, 2013. The queen apparently requires no formal introductions or fanfare. Within three days, Beyoncé’s mildly narcissistic album, Beyoncé, sold nearly 830,000 digital copies, beheading existing premier sales. While Miley, Katy and Britney struggled to surpass 300,000 in first week sales, Beyoncé rests at her the top of her kingdom.
Continuing her strategic reign of unforeseen moves, Beyoncé released 17 videos with her new “visual album.” The anthology of short films range from public streets to the intimate, hidden eroticisms of Bey’s boudoir. As the videos become increasingly artistic and elaborate it’s a wonder none of the album leaked. Beyoncé’s subjects must have taken an oath more critical than the one taken by the teens of I Know What You Did Last Summer.
Contextually, Beyoncé and her team of royal writers spared no expenses with this album. Picture Beyoncé at Versailles making plans for her exuberant new garden, hinting at some sly double-entendre about eating cake. From opulence to feminism to unabashed sexual explicitness, Beyoncé is an arousing mixture of peasant-pleasing subversive themes.
In “Flawless,” Beyoncé samples Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie’s TED talk, highlighting Adichie’s emphasis on society’s confining of women’s potential. Tracks like “Blow” and “Rocket,” with lyrics like, “Can you lick my skittles” or a personal favorite of mine, “He Monica Lewinsky-ed all on my gown” gain infamy for their metaphors about as subtle as grabbing someone’s crotch. Beyoncé’s underlying narcissism peeks through layers of silk taffeta in “Partition” when she sings, “I sneezed on the beat and the beat got sicker.” If only we were all worthy enough to be sneezed on by Beyoncé.
While I applaud the touch of Beyoncé’s scepter on controversial subjects
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that require her divine attention, at some point I wonder how authentic this attention is. Wouldn’t singing about female empowerment and the impracticality of minimum wage attract hundreds and thousands of dollars in sales? That, and offering an album in its entirely for a measly $15.99 certainly would work – and did. The title of the album alone, Beyoncé, reveals that it is more about her needs than yours. And as the sales for Beyoncé grow at a rampant rate, so does the artist’s ego.
The most disheartening part of this is the public’s unwillingness to admit to any wrongdoing on the part of its precious Queen Bey. The delusional Beyhive would probably scream “YAS, BEYONCÉ, YAS” if she were to throw Blue Ivy into the sea as a sacrifice to Poseidon. The fans of Beyoncé have lost themselves in tragic, flowing locks and false idolatry. Beyoncé isn’t some subhuman paragon. She is simply Beyoncé Giselle Knowles.
What Beyoncé lacks in traditional, saturated marketing it made up for its shortcomings with messages that, while potentially included to promote sales, are sadly necessary in today’s world. In a time in which Robin Thick’s date-rape rhymes on “Blurred Lines” can remain No. 1 for twelve weeks, I would much rather stand for a woman advocating equality of the sexes and female empowerment. So, on some levels, I suppose Beyoncé is a queen. Keep on reproaching the patriarchy, Beyonslay.