Janelle Monáe - The Electric Lady

The ArchAndroid was a rarity: an album I could not listen to unless it was in order, and without skipping a single track, intro or interlude. And at 18 tracks and an hour and eight minutes, too. As a standalone piece of art, it wasn't without its flaws - some of the second half could've been tightened up a little - but they were quite sparse. At the time I called it my third favourite album of 2010 (just behind Kanye and Arcade Fire), and in hindsight it'd comfortably make second (sorry, The Suburbs...) so yeah. Quite a bit to live up to for album #2.

Monáe's showiness has made her one of the decade's most recognisable performers and - in lieu of major pop breakthroughs - a strong counterweight to the argument that modern music is lacking in soul. Certainly, her peers at least have taken notice; The Electric Lady features Miguel, Erykah Badu, Solange, Esperanza Spalding and...oh, just Prince. I must stop building expectations of it, though, because it is after all just an album. But boy I was excited.

Fans of her 2010 breakthrough (and I don't mean to ignore the Metropolis EP, but it wasn't the album I fell in love with) will be pleased to see her suites return, and with them, new 'electric' overtures. IV's is a cinematic introduction, sort of apt for arduous movie footage of people building pyramids or riding horses into battle. What a wonderful battle it is, too: Prince's turn on 'Givin' em What They Love' is everything one would expect and more. Writhing, sexy and powerful, it utilises Prince's talents perfectly (a nice guitar solo, and slithering, but understated vocal) and is careful not to buckle Monáe. If anything, she thrives, unleashing vocal highs that weren't really showcased back in 2010. Her growth is more noticeable on the first single, 'Q.U.E.E.N.', where towards the end she surprises with a rap verse about civil rights, leadership and desire to fight. It's idealistic but fascinating, and, after a track that's primarily focussed on being as funky as is humanly possible (not to discredit funk at all, it's a fantastic track), a great addition. Our title track is a little more modern in disposition; a kind of sunny drivetime singalong with a fun beat and gradual jazz pieces. "She'll walk in any room and have you raising up your antennas" she says of this perfect archetypal leader, as Solange coos and shoops cutely (but a little quietly). This character constructed by Monáe is Cindi Mayweather - the same protagonist in a fight against time-travelling fascists under the name of The Great Divide, and on faux rebel radio station interludes we see the fight at grass-roots level: 'Good Morning Midnight' sees fans endeavouring "to break all of them [rules]" and discouraged rioters ("Don't throw no rock, don't, break no glass, just shake your ass").

For all of The ArchAndroid's fantasies about Mayweather, The Electric Lady seeks to make her more human. 'Primetime', a duet with Miguel, is as classic an R&B ballad as any (although most don't sample Pixies' Where is my Mind?) and - possibly aided by its music video - quite sensual indeed. Her greater care with vocals, too, shows a more emotional side: 'We Were Rock & Roll' tells of the ferocity of a former love (and also reintroduces her knack for outros that are more engaging than the actual song itself). The social uprising sides of the record are simply put across but smart, too: the attention to detail on 'The Chrome Shoppe' with the idea of underground clubs, and barber shops as small but pivotal venues in the movement. It introduces 'Dance Apocalyptic', the album's strongest standalone pop song. A kind of beach-pop meets Outkast's Hey Ya! moment, it's - if you'll forgive my hyperbole - one of the catchiest and most raucous tracks put out in a very long time. A small Danny Elfmanesque 'Look Into My Eyes' then fades out the fourth suite. The plays on words between robot and human make for cute observations like 'It's Code' (the android equivalent of Que Sera, Sera) and throwaway robot-empowerment slang like "power up" in 'Our Favourite Fugitive' (which also sees the DJ host cut off callers who refer to how robot love is queer, or how it doesn't follow a specific sacred book - sound familiar?)

It's sometimes easy to overlook the emotional connotations of her music, though, when tracks like 'Ghetto Woman' just tear apart every musical expectation of Monáe and throws dizzying guitar solo after guitar solo, and blistering rap verses at you; the track has drawn many comparisons to Stevie Wonder's more experimental phases and it's a great compliment. Her unexpected strength at times here is her voice, too: on 'Victory', 'Sally Ride' and 'Can't Live Without Your Love' she shimmies from belting high notes to soothing riffs with ease, with some comparing her to Lauryn Hill. Ultimately, though, the lasting impression is of emancipation and free love, and the benefactors are seemingly endless: women, robots/races and other sexualities all have moments and mentions on the album, and 'Sally Ride' is one such moment ("Just wake up, Mary/ Have you heard the news?/ Oh, just wake up, Mary/ You got the right to choose"). Rather than a political album, though, the Electric Lady seems to celebrate beauty, life and freedom: the closing two tracks 'Dorothy Dandridge Eyes' and 'What an Experience' are subdued, incredibly happy and sweet songs.

For all of the musical departures from Suites II and III (which, confusingly, The Electric Lady is apparently a prequel to), there are stark similarities: the first suite on the album is a lot more fun to listen to and the second a touch too long, but gorgeously crafted. I'm not sure if this'll go on to equal, surpass or fall short of The ArchAndroid but that's not really the point: Monáe's constant is her vision, and her gift with creating not only great music, but mesmerising worlds and a touch of fantasy about music that's so uncommon. I cannot find fault with her (other than, yes, this goes on a touch too long).

Rating: 9.5/10
Highlights: Dance Apocalyptic; Givin' Em What they Love; Victory; Q.U.E.E.N.; Ghetto Woman; Electric Lady
Avoid: n/a

Artwork Watch: Ignore this one, get the deluxe version.
Up next: Arctic Monkeys