Like most celebrities toeing the line between expected controversy and some modicum of respectability, 2018 has presented a challenge for a few people in terms of “going too far” by present standards of political correctness. Nicki Minaj, too, has suffered some of these consequences between light backlashes about her decision to appear on the cover of Russia’s edition of Harper’s Bazaar (which Queer Eye cast member Jonathan Van Ness, as a gay fan of the rapper, expressed distaste over when pointing out Minaj’s lack of consideration regarding Russia’s harsh laws and punishments against homosexuality), looking down on “modern day prostitutes” in an interview with Elle in which she stated, “Whether you’re a stripper, or whether you’re an Instagram girl—these girls are so beautiful and they have so much to offer. But I started finding out that you give them a couple thousand dollars, and you can have sex with them” and collaborating with 6ix9ine (probably going to jail soon) despite said rapper pleading guilty to use of a child in a sexual performance. Not exactly in keeping with Minaj’s latest placating insistence, “I think my role is putting out music that makes women feel like they can go from a poor neighborhood to doing records with the greats and being hailed as someone that shifted the culture. There are songs on the album that I feel women really need right now.” Mainly “Barbie Dreams,” but we’ll get to that in a minute (also maybe only one song could have the word “Barbie” in it, as “Barbie Tingz” is noticeably missing from the list).
Suffice it to say, there has been quite a bit of buildup to Ms. Minaj’s fourth record, Queen, with a cover as fiery and evocative as most of the tracks on the album. So when she reels us in immediately with the emotional opener, “Ganja Burn,” she makes it impossible to begrudge her any of her recent so-called missteps.
“Every time I get high I just think about you,” Minaj muses emotionally, in the same tone we recognize from previous songs in her oeuvre, like “The Crying Game,” “Bed of Lies” and “Regret In Your Tears.” However, Minaj remains, forever and always, a perfect example of how to mix the hard with the soft, coming for the pop culture references (just like on “Girls Fall Like Dominoes”) right out the gate as she raps, “Yo, you can’t wear a Nicki wig and then be Nicki/That’s like a fat nigga thinkin’ he can be Biggie/One rough ride, now you DMX and Swissy?/One hot video, you Hype? Now you just giddy/You made one dope beat, now you Kanye? You got a nigga named JAY, now you ‘Yoncé?/You got about three stacks, now you André?/You put a part in your fade, oh, you Nas, bae?” Her tongue-in-cheek stylings established from the outset, the majesty of Minaj is affirmed by the end of track one.
And on the note of majesty, Minaj re-teams with Eminem, the same OG of 00s rap she managed to snag for her debut, Pink Friday, for the song of the same name. The strategic placement of “Majesty” as track two on the record is most assuredly an homage to the same placement as their collaboration, “Roman’s Revenge,” on her aforementioned first release. Concluding with an allusion to a tweet from her early days in 2010, “Jealousy is a disease. Die slow,” Minaj’s evolution proves sonically complete in terms of a more nuanced production with Eminem (a far cry from the rantings and ravings of “Roman’s Revenge”–though it is true, “You need a job, this ain’t cuttin’ it”).
Arguably the most talked about song on Queen already is “Barbie Dreams”–even though Lil’ Kim, much to Minaj’s dismay, already reworked the concept behind the song in the same way, going through a lustful list of her favorite rappers and what she’d like to do to them, if only they had the stamina to turn her out. Still, Minaj does it better with a version that pokes fun at the supposed machismo of the industry, trolling everyone from her go-tos Meek Mill and Drake to Uzi, stating that not a one of them can do her right in the bedroom. Whereas both Biggie and Lil’ Kim talk about their objects of desire in a reverent way, with either “Dreams of fuckin’ an R&B bitch” or “Dreams of fuckin’ an R&B dick” being used, Minaj spits derogatorily, “Dreams of fuckin’ one of these little rappers.” ‘Cause not a one of them can fuck worth a damn as you’ll hear throughout.
https://youtu.be/twSq8BHmacU
This leads into, appropriately, “Rich Sex” featuring Lil’ Wayne (who does not get mentioned unfavorably on “Barbie Dreams”), in which Minaj explores the notion that if a man can’t fuck well…well, he can at least be rich as literal compensation. Unlike another recent post-capitalist anthem, Jennifer Lopez’s “Dinero” (a lot of which she used on her jaunt to Capri with A-Rod) featuring Cardi B (still just an inferior Nicki, as evidenced further by Queen), “Rich Sex” doesn’t even bother with the illusion of collaborative wealth. No, Nicki just wants a man who can “cum in her face and tell her, ‘Now you lookin’ rich, bitch’.” Listen, no one ever said Nicki or Lil’ Wayne minced words. She also happily admits, “I like money more than dick nigga, that’s a fact” and “There ain’t such a thing as broke and handsome.” The truth can be quite painful, and so few are willing to shout it like Nicki as she also manages to reach even further back into the pop culture lexicon with a Honeymooners reference, by answering the question, “Queen, where we going again?” with “To the moon, Alice”–this response alluding to Ralph’s constant threat of sending his wife Alice to the moon with a punch. Yeah, it was the 50s.
The moodier “Hard White” vaguely picks up where Rihanna’s “Work” left off, touting all the benefits of “honest” hard work, excluding the kind that forces “lesser” sex workers to strip their way to the top as Minaj reminds, “Uh, I ain’t never played a hoe position I ain’t ever have to strip to get the pole position/Hoes is dissin’?/Okay, these hoes is wishin’/You’re in no position to come for O’s position.” O being Onika, Minaj’s real name, many would like to believe this is a swipe at known former stripper Cardi B, but who knows? Could also be a dig at Eve, yet another female rapper Minaj has beef with because she’s the only damn one still committed to bringing to the rap game what it has always thrived on: bifteka.
Minaj’s quid pro quo duet with Ariana Grande (who also got Minaj to appear on “The Light Is Coming“), “Bed” is somewhat out of place among the rest, though it does have a similar island vibe to “Ganja Burn.” Apart from being a mating call to homeless men, “Bed” also has a special place on Hype Williams’ resume as one of his least innovative videos.
Not one to leave out hip hop’s current version of Taylor Swift, The Weeknd jumps on the track “I Thought I Knew You” (does this mean that, by degrees of separation, a collaboration between Minaj and Lana Del Rey might not be far behind?). With one of the sexiest, sultriest backing beats of the record, The Weeknd lends the verse, “Tell me why you let me come inside for real/Never mind, you were never mine for real,” with Minaj having what is known in the therapy world as an epiphany for why she would prefer to just focus on her paper by remarking, “You broke my heart and it never fixed/I just want them dead presidents.”
Once again showing that rare vulnerable side on “Run & Hide,” Minaj addresses certain issues with intimacy as she sings/explains, “‘Cause it’s been a minute since I trusted somebody/’Cause I don’t ever put my trust in nobody/I hate to picture you out fuckin’ somebody/So, I don’t ever put my trust in no body.” Whether she’s pulling from the deep recesses of her twelve-year relationship with Safaree Samuels or her more recent long-term disappointment with Meek Mill, the hesitancy to ever lose emotional control again is very apparent throughout the short but sweet offering.
A precursor to her first single, “Chun-Li” (with a Steven Klein-centric video to accompany it), “Chun Swae” featuring Swae Lee is a continuation of Minaj’s knack for name checking labels, high fashion and celebrities–all while finding time to compare her body to a work of art (specifically a Van Gogh). Not one to let you forget that she knows who she is, Minaj gets especially meta at the end by saying, “You’re in the middle of Queen right now thinking, ‘I see why she called this shit Queen. This bitch is really the fucking queen.'” Not many others could get away with such arrogance, but somehow Minaj still manages to back it up, segueing into “Chun-Li” followed by “LLC,” a divergent song in terms of sonic composition, favoring a xylophone-like backing instrument as, once again, it’s rumored Nicki is shading Cardi B (and anyone else who has followed the “pinkprint” mold for success) with the lyrics, “I just took her name and made the bitch a LLC/Stuff a couple stacks up in, then bitch, get on your feet/You make twice as much if you switch it up, just to see/To you he’s rich and famous, but he’s just a guy to me.” This last line likely being a jibe at Cardi’s precious Offset, Nicki remains unafraid to come for those she views as inferior. It’s what old school queens would do (and what gay queens still do). Heads will roll, that sort of thing.
“Good Form,” yet another phrase that implicates Nicki’s own physique, sustains the fast pace and saucy side of the “generous” Queen as she asserts her dominance over a man who “eat(s) the cookie ’cause it’s good for’m,” while also lamenting that being the baddest B means everyone on her D. Sigh. Tradeoffs.
Slowing things down with “Nip Tuck,” Minaj reveals a more mature side (keeping with the sonic tone of “I Lied”), even if, through that maturity, she must still reveal her natural predilection toward threatening any male inadequacy with, “I gave you everything, yeah/But you don’t know what to do with all that/And that’s on everything I’ma have to switch, switch up on you/Snip, snip, hit the nip tuck on you.” It’s something we’d all like to do at one point or another when the inevitable inefficacy of a man to measure up to expectations.
With that sentiment in mind, the play on words interlude, “2 Lit 2 Late,” finds Minaj iterating, “Why you ain’t listen then, listen back then?/Now you’re too much, too little, yeah, too late.” In short, every woman reaches her breaking point, that moment where she can no longer invest any more time in amending a product that is simply defective.
Not one to be outdone by Diana Ross, Minaj brings us a song called “Come See About Me,” once more showing herself to be nothing but a teddy bear underneath that rough exterior as she laments an old relationship gone wrong, likely with the man she tried to nip and tuck. Urging, “Come, come, come see about me/It won’t hurt just to see what we could be,” Minaj proves the point that being a woman is like being naturally bipolar, our conflicting emotions between head and heart making us unable to ever fully admit that all men are shit.
On “Sir” (not an homage to Jay and Bey’s son), Future joins in for a not so subtly mocking diss track that essentially pokes fun at any authority figure with use of the word “sir” as a sign of “respect” by tacking it onto the end of brash sentences, as in, “Kiss my ass, sir.” That, many would be willing to do if Minaj was the possessor of the cheeks in question.
Again naming a song repetitiously (though it was time to oust associations with Will Smith), “Miami” isn’t a love letter to the city so much as a “I just happened to be in town when this happened” type of narrative, with plenty of “incidental mentions” about having the “low-low” on where to get all the best uppers and downers. It’s not exactly Ultra Music Festival-worthy, but it will do.
On Pink Friday: Roman Reloaded, Minaj paid tribute to another icon by naming a song after her, “Marilyn Monroe.” She does the same on Queen with Coco Chanel featuring Foxy Brown (a throwback from the Lil’ Kim era of female rap). Except in this case, the title has nothing to do with the French designer so much as skin tone and maybe cocaine as the JBeatzz-produced track finds Nicki singing in Spanish, “Ellas quieren coco.” As the only song produced by JBeatzz, “Coco Chanel” stands out as one of the most unique and memorable cuts, with sampled elements of “Bun Up the Dance” (a banger that Madonna’s twins, Estere and Stella, helped rejuvenate last year) appearing in the “Inspirations Outro” (which is really just a part of the same song).
Leaving us on this Spanish-flavored note, Foxy Brown adds, “Brooklyn where the fuck we at? Flatbush, Bed-Stuy/That’s my word to Big”–once again spreading love (it’s the Brooklyn way) for Notorious B.I.G. despite his ties to Lil’ Kim–and despite the fact that Minaj is forever “Southside Jamaica, Queens and it’s crazy.” References to drugs (Percs, Addies and Xannies included), and most especially cocaine throughout Queen–with Minaj often talking of moving weight, product or powder as a double entendre–make one believe that maybe this is the “key” to Minaj’s superhuman ability to spit lines like no one else can. It would just be nice if, upon occasion, she could sit down and be humble. No one is refuting her queendom–for she’s in a competition with no one but herself, which can often be even less inspiring than bona fide rivalry.
