Happy 10th Anniversary to Janelle Monáe’s debut album The ArchAndroid, originally released May 18, 2010.
I love moments of discovery. When you hear a song out of the blue. And immediately need to hear more. Think back to the time you first heard your favorite artist or band? That one song that made you sit back and say “What is this? Who is this?” Your love of music will never be the same after that moment.
For me, one such moment came on a Saturday afternoon back in 2010 watching a music video channel in Australia. The host introduced a new song (“Tightrope”) from a new(ish) artist, Janelle Monáe. Immediately the beat grabbed me, a mix of hip-hop modernity fused with jazz soul. The jingle jangle guitar and that opening holla—a mix of James Brown and Little Richard but in female form.
And there was Monáe in her mix of Motown Revue styling and Night at the Apollo energy. And I was hooked. The rhythms, the style, the concept. Here was an artist with a vision, with a style that set her apart from her booty shaking, midriff bearing contemporaries. The tux as a gender defying uniform, the whole look and feel was both asexual and sexual at the same time. A joyful juxtaposition of style, substance, sound and social standing. Here was the uniform of the aristocracy and the wait staff that served them. This multifaceted, multitalented being you couldn’t take your eyes off. Like the masters of attention before her—Bowie, Brown, Prince, Jackson, Turner—there was an energy that compelled you to look, and listen.
For it wasn’t just a cool look, a cool setting—those had become overly commonplace in videos since their heyday. There was something deeper here. And I got the sense that “Tightrope” with all its funk and musical swagger was just scratching the surface and I needed to itch.
After several weeks of “Tightrope” walking its way back and forth in my mind, Monáe dropped her debut album The ArchAndroid with cover art that harkened back to Fritz Lang’s Metropolis as well as the beauty of Nefertiti. Presented more like a movie poster than album cover, the words “Suites II and III” also hinted at a continuing saga. Those in the know (and I clearly wasn’t) were already hip to Monáe’s initial 2007 EP release Metropolis: The Chase Suite that The ArchAndroid would build upon.
From the opening “Suite II Overture,” it was clear that Monáe was an artist who created in visual music, the journey of The ArchAndroid wouldn’t be a collection of songs but rather a musical tale, a cinematic experience to hear with your ears and visualize with your mind.
In a similar way that Metropolis dealt with the utopian existence above and the subjugated below, the world of The ArchAndroid is a world of haves and have-nots, accepted and other.
From the opening trifecta of “Dance or Die,” “Faster,” and “Locked Inside,” Monáe trips through musical genres at a galloping pace taking you from dance inspired grooves to jazz infused melody to rocking hip-hop beats. The narrative she unravels takes you into the world of Cindi Mayweather, an android deemed as the chosen one to unite the factions and citizens of Metropolis.
From an overview of the society in “Dance or Die” through to a diversion into a calling love that conflicts with her call to destiny to unite, through to “Locked Inside” which battles against the notion of oppression and repressed feelings, the lyrical content is heavy. But it doesn’t weigh down the music, which builds in hope and near joyous energy.
The narrative develops with the Bond-esque theme rewriting of “Sir Greendown” that paints classic fairy tale and romance motifs against the Android/Human dynamic.
As a centerpiece of the album, “Cold War” is a raucous rousing of funk and soul, where Monáe as Cindi laments the loneliness, self-doubt, and questions that arise from being an “other.” In lines like, “I’m trying to find my peace / I was made to believe there’s something wrong with me / And it hurts my heart / Lord have mercy, ain’t it plain to see?” she’s not only progressing Cindi’s narrative but also dealing with the issues she had growing up as a black girl, struggling with identity and a sense of belonging.
Where “Cold War” is questioning, it segues into the trailblazing “Tightrope” with ease and flips the narrative. “Tightrope” is all about confidence and embracing what makes you different. It’s about finding that balance that centers you. It’s as if she is saying whatever path you’re taking, no matter how wide or narrow you have to lean into your journey, or as she so succinctly puts it, “You got to tip on the tightrope”
From here Monáe takes us further into the narrative and progresses the story through moments of reflection in “Neon Gumbo” (a reversed reworking of her “Many Moons” song from her Metropolis EP), into a folksy stroll of love for her maker (both human and God) in “Oh Maker” that places her vocals front and center as she blends melody and phrasing with softness and power.
On the menacing and riotous “Come Alive (War of the Roses)” the Android achieves consciousness and moves closer to becoming a sentient being. The multi-leveled symbolism of “Mushrooms and Roses” plays out against a fuzz tone psychedelic, set against a fluidity of attraction as Cindi/Janelle sings, “We’re all virgins to the joys of loving without fear.”
“Suite III Overture” both echoes and foreshadows with its brief glimpses of narrative and leads us into the final act, as Cindi “an outlaw outrunning the law” as she sings in “Neon Valley Street” is hunted to be decommissioned for fear of what her love and relationship may do to the citizens of Metropolis.
The album takes a slight left turn fittingly on “Make The Bus,” a collaboration with Kevin Barnes from Of Montreal and delivers us into “Wondaland,” a realized utopia where division doesn’t exist and love is free and inviting, all set against a dreamy bop. The importance of her lines “Take me back to Wondaland” aren’t just a call to return to an idyllic existence, but take on a heavier weight as the track leads into the final moments of the album.
With “57821” (Cindi’s designation) the story is told by Cindi’s lover, Anthony Greendown, and he reveals the origins of their love and Cindi’s call to free the Androids. The flip side to “57821” comes in the shape of “Say You’ll Go,” a Stevie Wonder tinged love song told from Cindi’s point of view as she asks for Greendown to join her, to be free together.
The closing track “BeBopBye Ya” is an epic series of movements that draws on the lovers’ connections despite what barriers or distance separates them. Against a slinky boss nova groove the song unravels as a torch song that echoes across the abyss between two hearts. Monáe’s powerhouse vocals are on display here as she wrings emotion from every line. With each movement, the song expands, drawing in elements of world music, jazz, orchestration, and soulful melodies. The final movement is a reflection of Cindi and Greenwood’s love, as in memorizing it or putting it in archive, and a declaration of Cindi’s resolve to fight and push towards freedom, as she sings “I see beyond tomorrow / This life of strife and sorrow / My freedom calls and I must go.” It’s a beautiful resolve to the tale told.
With The ArchAndroid, Monáe presents a world of restrictions, forbidden love and oppression. Whilst based in a futuristic sci-fi setting filled with Androids and Controllers, it’s as much a call to fight for freedom against any division, any restriction that has anyone feeling “other” by way of their identity, their race, their religion, their orientation.
It’s as much a story of Monáe’s own metamorphosis, her own awakening both as an artist and, more importantly, a person as it is her alter-egos. It’s an album that set the stage and brought Monáe into the collective consciousness.
Cindi’s story would continue in the follow up The Electric Lady (2013), but Monáe would step free of the narrative with her more personally driven project, 2018’s stellar Dirty Computer.
As I tweeted way back in 2010 after first listening to the album, “the future of music is safe and welcomed as long as we have artists like Janelle Monáe creating.” It still holds true. Through each subsequent release, Monáe has grown and embraced more of her identity, and invited us all to be part of the journey. Music is richer for having her in it.
Enjoyed this article? Read more about Janelle Monáe here:
Electric Lady (2013) | Dirty Computer (2018)
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