People, I start today’s post with a confession. I made a mistake (shocking, I know). Metropolis: The Chase Suite might be the first official studio release from Janelle Monáe, but it is not her first release as an artist. That would be The Audition, an unofficial 2003 album that was one of the first big hits on Myspace, and allowed her to position herself for a major studio deal. This use to be a common practice, and some say that artists are still wandering the internet wastelands of the Myspace, mixtapes in hand, looking for someone to love them.
I kind of wish I had time to write a review for that record, but to make amends I suggest listening to it on Youtube. It’s a quite fantastic R&B record in its own right. But the reason I mention it here at the top is because of two songs on the record: “Metropolis” and “Cindi.” As you can see just from the titles, the concept of Monáe’s now five part opus – planned seven parts – has been stirring in her head from a young age. And now having a large platform to work on has resulted in the first part of that project, the seven songs on this first EP. Well, five songs. Technically four. It’s pretty short is what I’m trying to say.
Perhaps we should start talking about the music now, which is as ambitious sonically as it is conceptually. Although both those elements would go on to be fined tuned on her full length albums, here we first see Monáe the chameleon, mixing and wearing the styles of multiple genres: R&B; progressive rock, even elements of classical and show tunes. Some songs on here sound like the soundtrack to a cybernetic theatre piece that doesn’t exist, and that theatricality begins with “March of the Wolfmasters.” An entertaining exposition dump accompanied with marching drums and buzzing electronic sounds, it propels not just this record, but every project after it.
We then meet Cindi Mayweather, the “alien from outer space/cybergirl without a face,” to the rocking tune of “Violet Stars Happy Hunting.” The alternative rock and Bowieness of that title extends to the sonics and lyrics, with Monáe’s beautiful vocals accompanied with some gospel backing from feature artist The Skunks. Like I said, Monáe likes playing with her genres. This song naturally segues into what is probably the biggest single from the album, “Many Moons.” The funk and soul here wouldn’t sound out of place on an Outkast record, which makes sense considering that Big Boi was the executive producer of this EP (and would go on to feature on ArchAndroid). Those high synth sounds complement beautifully with the fuller sounds of the rock organ, in the same manner that Janelle’s natural and strong lead vocals beautifully work with the more compressed nature of her own self-created backing. The dreamy ending to this track is gorgeous and cinematic, with the guitar solo moving into her echoing voice and phasered guitars creating an open space for the listener to get lost in. A Theremin wouldn’t have sounded out of place here.
This dreamy landscape and sense of being loss extends itself to the shortest song on the track, “Cybernetic Purgatory.” Monáe would go on to include overtly classical elements in the midst of modern instrumentation, but this combination of the two is a somewhat overlooked piece of work (probably because it’s so short). A particularly nice touch is the very deliberate use of autotune, both adding to the obvious robotic concept and helping to keep the heavenly voices just enough out of heaven to depict the song’s title.
Despite this very sci-fi conceptual piece, my favourite track on this album just happens to be the one that sounds the least electronic; “Sincerely, Jane.” The R&B closing track has echoes of Ben E. King and Marvin Gaye, although the trumpets wouldn’t sound out of place in a movie soundtrack. It is here where I gracefully move on to talk about the most obvious influence on this album, that of the Fritz Lang movie Metropolis. The reason I mention it here is because, like in that movie, whatever the big sci-fi ideas in hand the images are always tied into a sense of the contemporary moment. In Metropolis it was a heightened sense of industry and a battle of class depicted in a pretty Marxist proletariat/bourgeoisie style. Here that class struggle is also present, but confined to what feels like a smaller city area (what with the musical backing). Janelle’s music will continue to place one foot in the now and another in the futurism, but for now this overt presentation of that in “Sincerely, Jane” makes this the perfect end.
Well, the end of the suite anyway. Most versions of this EP come with two tracks added to the special edition in 2008, which although are superfluous and not included in the overall Metropolis concept are still worth talking about in terms of the rest of Metropolis: The Chase Suite thematically. The fade out of “Sincerely, Jane” goes into “Mr. President,” a piece of socialspoitation that is kind of the mirror to the previous track in terms of presentation. Where “Sincerely, Jane” ties class and political struggle to a sense of self, here it is appealing to that political class and using that same language to do so (“a book is worth more than a bomb”). Although I do appreciate the sentiment of the song – and it is still somewhat enjoyable – this is a track that would have benefited from being forceful, and the weak trumpets and Monáe’s surprisingly mellow voice at points don’t do that.
The whole EP ends with a very pleasant rendition of “Smile.” The more I think about this particular cover being on here the more it make sense. It both connects to Monae’s silent film inspirations (though that is in inverted commas for Modern Times) and paying tribute to inspirations such as Nat King Cole and Michael Jackson (for whom this was said to be their favourite song). But above all that, the smooth guitar work and Janelle’s soulful voice is both minimal and lush, helping to give a relaxing end to this disc.
This is the first EP we have done for Record Club, and it is a very good one. Both as a start to the Metropolis concept and a release in its own right, this is full of multiple genres, tones and themes that showcased Janelle Monae’s talents to a larger audience than her unofficial studio album The Audition. But despite this, there was still some work to be done; be it the occasional weak instrumental here and there (I mainly think of the start to “Violet Stars…”) or the means of making the whole even more cohesive, people hoped Janelle Monáe would build on her promise with her first studio album. She did…
What did you think, though?
Janelle Monáe rankings
1. Metropolis: The Chase Suite