Janelle Monáe — Dirty Computer ANALYSIS & REVIEW

Published 05/01/2018

This album really reached for the stars, and it sure succeeded. It achieved multiple levels of listener engagement, from being a driving, momentum building, and fun listen to being a wonderfully powerful picture of our modern culture through the eyes of someone whose voice hardly seems to be heard when it matters most. While I typically discuss my opinions on a musical work through nothing but musical aspects and save my perspective on its influential weight as just a cherry on top, I must admit they are rather inseparable here. That’s quite a rarity, and in this case it was a huge positive.

Regardless of the messages and meanings, it’s important to point out that every broad musical decision was completely married to Monáe’s emotional intents and results. This is musical communication at some of its finest, with the album flowing like a theatrical show. Monáe used a strong range of sonic styles and tactics, from electronic dominant energy in “Take a Byte” to soft vocalizations and spoken word in “Don’t Judge Me” to smooth rhythmic bass and percussion features in “I Got the Juice”, most always finding a small yet eccentric repeated line for listeners to happily latch onto.

The smorgasbord wasn’t an incredibly overwhelming result from start to finish, with some of the strict rap sections and repeated choruses in songs like “Django Jane” and “Make Me Feel” staying a little too rhythmically insignificant and not outlining any important harmonic motion. What was always present, though, was purpose and insistence, with all parts working together and building to a singular important intention. Even when a phrase seemed to fall off a bit in lack of important harmonic direction or rhythmic energy, one of two things always happened: either a new surprising section took the existing musical structure and simply improved the atmosphere by use of more functional harmony or melodic shape, or the existing repetition became much more tolerable with how it fit within the other moving parts and what meanings became attached to it.

Again, the multiple layers from idea to execution to meaning were wonderfully perceivable. I hate to say it gave a “free pass” to sections that weren’t as musically enriching, as Monáe did show some dips in finding strong pitch collection and shedding the shackles of trying for an explicit “modern” sound, but everything made sense within what this album attempted to convey. Honestly, it is supposed to have this very modern day timbre, as it really is meant to be a snapshot of the year 2018 as a cultural champion this year and a time capsule come the future.

Every song had great congeniality and organization to it, typically starting with a singular understandable harmonic progression or melodic motive and forming these forces of nature around them through dynamic shifts, sweet electronic texture builds, and secondary complimentary phrases, which worked in a more fluid and emotionally driven way than being simply choruses for the sake of the form. Nothing about the form seemed forced or naïve, with the music always moving towards another meaningful section, be it an important repetition of a cool earlier idea or an expansion with different textures delivering the same amount of feeling.

The music finds its consistency through its entertaining electronic timbre, using enjoyable synths, riveting beats, dynamic variance from beginning to end, and spacious reverb effects to create both a comfortable and exciting atmosphere for the modern listener. It expertly brings the listener in, then, to the rather uncomfortable and assertive messages behind the music that become unlocked. I was personally most impressed with the harmonic movement on this album. Regardless of the moments of real stagnancy in the background structure that crept in more than I would have liked, the harmony seemed to always come through with a simple, pleasing foundation at opportune times.

There was a strong attention to rhythmic delivery throughout, making the harmonies a true attention-grabbing element. There were some exquisitely formed progressions here, like the use of the major II and VI borrowed chords in “Take a Byte”, or the 3/8–5/8 pattern with simple dominant emphasis in “I Like That”. Even the odd I IV III pattern in “So Afraid”, which isn’t too functional or pleasing out of context, was milked to beauty through the emphasis on the uneasiness that the III chord provided while being matched with pure emotional strength, also followed by a reposing I IV V with a sweet descending melodic line. The album ends brilliantly with the anthem “Americans”, giving pure energetic charm and uplifting hope through the most basic and beloved use of a I IV I V progression.

Overall, there were some neat and well-worked ideas, some saving throws, and some total home runs, all working like clockwork to create one connected, heartfelt musical work. This really seems to be not only the benchmark, but also the peak for what the year could offer. With the context of the entire history of music in mind, this is far from perfection, it’s not incredible, and it doesn’t carry enough home run awe-inspiring linear musical ideas to dethrone any past greats in any way. Focusing in on what we can find in modern times, though, this is consistently fun, has wonderfully meaningful organization throughout, deals out heartfelt emotion, and deserves consideration as the best album of 2018.