Few things are as deeply synonymous with American culture as the queen herself. No, I’m not talking about that immortal British matriarch (she can keep her dirty paws out of our business as far as this patriot is concerned), but I am, of course, talking about someone from an even greater eschalon of royalty: that’s right folks, it’s time for this white boy’s review of the new Beyoncé record, “Renaissance.”
Now, this album is a few weeks old. Not much can be said about it that hasn’t already been said a million times, which begs the question: why am I even doing this at all? Am I so self-important, so arrogant, to insist my thoughts on this universally beloved, power-dance opus be put to publication, for the world to see? But, as a popular contributing editor to HannahandMattonMedia.com, is it not my due diligence as a journalist in the public eye to comment on all things pop culture, despite its relative untimeliness? The truth is, however, I am under quarantine due to being in a Covid-riddled apartment, and I’m bored as shit. So let’s hit it, Beyhive!
With my other reviews on this site (if you have not yet familiarized yourself with my Kanye West or Black Country, New Road reviews, I highly recommend them. They’re quite good.), I will not be ranking this album based on any sort of binary rating, but rather express my (oft uninformed) thoughts on the record in visceral, sometimes abstract description.