Good Girl Gone Bad - Because the World Needs More Faceless Hip-Pop
Written: Jun 25 '07 (Updated Jun 25 '07)
Product Rating:
Pros: State-of-the-art production. "Umbrella" is a powerful and propulsive single.
Cons: A deathly absence of melodic hooks. All style, no substance.
The Bottom Line: "Good Girl Gone Bad" will certainly appeal to fans of Nelly Furtado, Gwen Stefani and Fergie, but its production flair can't mask a complete lack of song-writing talent.
floatingcity's Full Review: Good Girl Gone Bad by Rihanna
Having churned out three albums in as many years, 19-year-old Rihanna has been surprisingly productive in the hip-pop field as of late, racking up an impressive number of hits with influences ranging from reggae to synth-dance. Her 2007 release “Good Girl Gone Bad” sees her shifting in a more dance-friendly direction, with a greater number of up-tempo tracks featuring cutting-edge production. It’s quite clear that label Def Jam has spared no expense in hiring big names, with beats coming from the likes of StarGate, “Tricky” Stewart and hit machine Timbaland. Each of the twelve songs has been extensively groomed for maximum mainstream and crossover appeal, giving the record a highly airbrushed and slick feel.
It’s just as well that the production on “Good Girl Gone Bad” is so glossy, because without it the disc would be a total loss. Rihanna’s vocal talent is questionable at best, and although she’s nowhere near as robotic as Ciara or Cassie, her mechanical squeak is incapable of projecting any kind of emotion besides boredom. Furthermore, her singing style is highly nasal, with an uncomfortably sneering element that contradicts the general party vibe of much of the record. You could be forgiven for wondering if an android had stepped in for the vocal duties (such as on the shockingly thin “Say It”); suffice to say that Rihanna’s voice is not worth your attention in the way that Beyonce’s is.
The acid test of any pop/mainstream album is almost always how catchy it is, and “Good Girl Gone Bad” just doesn’t succeed there. I’m baffled to look through the liner notes and see 29 different writers listed, especially considering that such a large group failed to write even one line of distinctive melody. These songs could be memorable if you heard them a huge number of times, but all but four tracks are so devoid of interesting elements, there’s little incentive to return to them.
So, what are the four reasonable songs? First up is the transatlantic No. 1 “Umbrella”, an immaculately produced slice of hard-beated pop. Its thumping rhythm strikes pristinely and accurately, with sparkling synthesisers and the occasional electric guitar phrase supporting Rihanna as she pledges an undying friendship. Its chorus is the catchiest moment on the album by far, and its taut, controlled atmosphere is snappy and powerful. The only weak point is the opening rap by Jay-Z, but even then that’s more from its utter gratuitousness than bad writing.
Elsewhere, there’s a little promise in “Hate That I Love You”, a duet with Ne-Yo that sees the guest star’s smooth croon utterly outshining Rihanna. A summery acoustic strum-along with handclap percussion, it sounds almost identical to any other Ne-Yo song you could name, but the slim musical arrangement allows for the main tune to shine through. Likewise, Timbaland issues solid beats on the crushing chorus sound-wall of “Sell Me Candy”, while the Justin Timberlake-penned “Rehab” floats along inoffensively. It’s as lyrically juvenile and trite as his own material, but has the third-strongest melody on the album, with sweet harmonies and meticulous production that avoids succumbing to the over-stuffed arrangements that plague so many of the other tracks.
After the promise of “Umbrella”, I had hope for the upbeat songs that construe the opening half of this album, but their frenetic fake-sexiness is completely unappealing. For example, Rihanna’s attempts at being aggressively flirtatious on “Push Up on Me” are akin to watching ‘out of control’ teens on The Maury Povich Show, as they brag about how “with mah hawt body, I do what I wahnt”. Producer J.R. Totem (who is obviously a bastion of artistic integrity, having worked with Kevin Federline and Paris Hilton) conjures up a generic, flat drumbeat and overlays it with cheap synthesisers, which kick out a bland and interminable groove that seems to last far longer than the track’s three-minute running time. The military stomp of “Breakin’ Dishes” is equally embarrassing, with another flat melody and a vocal delivery that projects ‘hissy fit’ instead of rage. To hear this type of song done right, try Kelis’ “Caught Out There”, which is far more convincing and musically interesting.
The other two big up-tempo songs on “Good Girl Gone Bad” are “Don’t Stop The Music” and second single “Shut Up and Drive”, which entertain somewhat before vanishing into the ether. What little personality Rihanna possesses is buried beneath the relentless thump of the beats, with gimmicky samples from Michael Jackson and New Order respectively providing the main focuses of interest. It says a lot that the musical portions cribbed from other artists are the best parts of these songs, with Rihanna’s writers failing to contribute either melodies or vocal hooks. Was it really that difficult to come up with something creative?
The slower tracks that close this disc are (sadly) just as bland, with “Question Existing” being the worst offender. It’s a truly lame attempt at introspection, with over-calculated and completely transparent lyrics designed to make Rihanna seem ‘real’ and genuine. Her flimsy vocals are obscured under wishy-washy synth lines, and the only interesting aspect of the music is the whooshing effect that accompanies each strike of the beat, which amusingly sounds like someone whispering ‘sh*t’ repeatedly. The album has the good sense to close with its far more engaging and organic title track, but its melody is once again bland, with little to care about or remember once it’s done.
Overall, “Good Girl Gone Bad” is just another hip-pop album, with no goal beyond simply existing. I respect that, but a solid seven or eight of these songs are so thoroughly boring and unimaginative, there’s just no point to their presence – and no amount of production sheen can hide those flaws. In short, the album’s all icing and no cake, and it best consumed only by chart purists with a hardened Stefani/Furtado sweet tooth. As for everyone else, it’s safe to say that “Good Girl Gone Bad” can be very comfortably missed.
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