FanMail forever marks a turning point in my life. In early 1999, my 13-year-old self (that tells you plenty already!) discovered that:

• the so-called “R&B/urban” section of the record store was the best section
• none of my peers had made the above discovery, and didn’t seem to agree with me about it either
• VIBE magazine (which was imported to the UK, but I had to go into the centre of town to find it) was the shit

The first issue of VIBE magazine that I bought was the one with TLC on the cover, lying on a wooden floor.

Although the magazine certainly was not aimed at white boys in their early teens from the provinces of England, the content meshed better with my interests than anything else I could lay my hands on at the time. It didn’t talk down to me, and it informed me about US R&B and hip-hop at a time when my internet access was restricted to half an hour of dial-up a day.

That issue of VIBE saw Left-Eye threatening to leave the group, and proposing “The Challenge”, which involved Arista wholly funding a solo album for each member, and letting the albums loose to compete on the charts. An interesting idea that never came to pass, this tension and Left-Eye’s “busy schedule” (I don’t doubt she was busy, but come on!) account for the prolific presence of Vic-E – an early text-to-speech converter – on the album in lieu of Left-Eye on some of the tracks, such as promo cut “Silly Ho”. Abandoned first single “It’s Alright” featured all three members and a call to all to forget the myriad troubles of the world, but in retrospect its deep bass and underdeveloped melody were better left off the album. As seemed to be a constant issue throughout TLC’s career, label drama prevented the appearance of a “Shout” remix featuring Enrique Iglesias and Sheila E.! Despite the recent crossover success of Ricky Martin, and the burgeoning career of Jennifer Lopez crystallising with the forthcoming release of “If You Had My Love” that summer, this song never made it to the radio – a clear indication of trouble percolating behind the scenes, as it would surely have been a hit with Latin influences riding high in the charts.

I can’t remember accurately if I bought the magazine and TLC’s album, with the exciting lenticular cover that added to the picture’s futuristic feel, on the same day. I just know that I was really excited, and as I got the bus back to my grandmother’s house with the album in my hands and the sun shining down on me, I had an inkling that my life might change. I had only heard “No Scrubs” up to that point, so I didn’t really know what the album had in store for me (remember the days when the first time you heard an album was when you brought it home and put it in the stereo?).

I got home, ran up to my bedroom and put the CD in my CD player, and my world pretty much exploded. The cover’s black background and faint binary numbers, with T-Boz, Left-Eye and Chilli’s blue-tinted faces looming out of what cyberspace looked like in 1999, had given me an idea of what to expect, but the edgy futuristic R&B that began with the title track and did not let up for the first seven tracks exceeded those expectations. Although “Fanmail” the song is ostensibly about thanking their fans for sticking by them (the fans’ names listed all over the CD inlay remains a lovely tribute) as their star exploded due to the blockbuster success of CrazySexyCool, and the varying controversies that accompanied it (Left-Eye burns down her abusive boyfriend’s house! The group is bankrupt at the height of their success! These young black women keep acting as if they are sexually liberated!), the hook “Just like you, I get lonely too” carries echoes of the fibrillating masterpiece that is Janet Jackson’s ode to online dating, “Empty”. Towards the end of the album, the interlude “Communication” and the bleepy instrumentation of the following track “Lovesick” also explored quite explicitly what the future might sound like, and what it might feel like to live in it and be surrounded by and isolated by machinery. “The Vic-E Interpretation” is literally Vic-E comparing the materialism of Western nightclubbers to the simpler motives of the Japanese (who apparently just want to dance) – the disembodied “otherness” of the delivery manages to eclipse the randomness of the statement itself.

The song that this leads into, “Silly Ho”, is a masterpiece that conjures the future in another, superior way – beats that are chopped within an inch of their life à la Timbaland’s early, groundbreaking production, and Vic-E showing up again to intone how a failed suitor has “missed out.” The silent pause that bisects the robot rap feels daring, especially for a buzz single designed to delight and ignite the clubs. Can you dance to silence? How about stabbing pentatonic synths and icy lasers (way before dubstep was ever a thing)? It’s deliriously challenging, and the first time I heard it, I didn’t know what I was hearing. It took subsequent listens to absorb and appreciate the assertive lyrics, thematically similar to what is explored on “No Scrubs” (in a nutshell: Mama don’t take no mess). I love this song.

“No Scrubs” itself has been appreciated and loved plenty; my only regret is that the album version doesn’t include Left-Eye’s rap. I remember this song, together with Destiny’s Child’s “Bills, Bills, Bills”, causing a lot of commotion for being feminist, materialistic, hating on men, and a hundred other takes on the messages in the songs that basically say “why should I take care of you if you can’t take care of yourself?” I can’t disagree with that sentiment at all – and I hope that in 2016, it’s not a big deal for anybody to stand their ground and say that. But the controversy of that message being delivered by young black women in 1999 pushed the well-crafted songs to high heights, and also made producer She’kspere’s career. The video was another example of how effectively futuristic imagery was used prominently throughout the album campaign – the group wearing cyberspacesuits studded with oversize bicycle lights (!), romping around the deserted videoscape from Janet & Michael’s “Scream”, and Left-Eye conjuring white squares out of thin air. My final comment about the song is how lovely it was, and still is, to hear Chilli take the reins as lead vocalist for the whole song.

And then came “I’m Good At Being Bad”, the apex of the rollercoaster ride that FanMail had been up to this point. Lulled into a false sense of security by gentle strings and a melodic verse, the dirtiest bassline bounds out of the speakers as TLC sing about being cockhungry and loving it. A fun memory I have of this song is that my mother and I used to enjoy playing the album in the car. (My mum is pretty cool.) It was the summer, so we used to ride around with the windows down – but if we were stuck in traffic and “I’m Good At Being Bad” came on, she would roll the windows up so that people walking by wouldn’t hear the lyrics!

A point of note is that on the original pressing of the album (which I have, so I didn’t know any differently until very recently), “I’m Good At Being Bad” interpolates the hook from Donna Summer’s “Love to Love You Baby”. These parts of the song have been chopped out if you try and buy more recent versions of the album, or try to buy it on iTunes. The length of the track is about a minute shorter, because apparently TLC didn’t get the appropriate permission to use the song. Likewise, with the “Whispering Playa” interlude, the original version had Rick James’ “Cold Blooded” in the background of the ‘club’. This was subsequently replaced with one of TLC’s own tracks, the Japanese FanMail bonus track “U In Me”. The more you know.

Other FanMail ‘bonus’ content includes the track that was used to promote the FanMail Tour, “I Need That”, which was recorded exclusively for a website called MP3.com (ah, these were simpler times indeed!) and sounds very similar to “If They Knew”, which did make FanMail and transitions from the beat-heavy onslaught of the first few tracks into the smoother one-two of “I Miss You So Much” and “Unpretty”. The ballads of FanMail put aside futuristic soundscapes for more organic instrumentation, which matches the vulnerability of the vocals and subject matter. They also allowed TLC to explore other genres; “Come On Down” has a country feel, while “Unpretty” is mainstream pop with sweet acoustic guitars and shuffling snares. The most explicit example of the cold space sonics receding to the authenticity of real (or at least realistic) instrumentals comes at the end of the album, when Vic-E’s voice begins to falter at the end of “Automatic” (which includes portions of Neil Armstrong’s Moon Landing broadcast – is cyberspace perhaps as isolating as outer space?), giving way to the organic warmth of closing song “Don’t Pull Out On Me Yet”, very much anchoring the album back to Earth.

“Unpretty” and “Dear Lie”, as well as being the album’s other singles, are the most emotionally vulnerable songs on the album. The former, adapted from a poem written by T-Boz (that was included in her Thoughts spoken word project), talked about the pressures placed on her (and by extension, on women) by society to maintain a certain standard of beauty at all times – in the public eye and out of it – and how what’s on the outside doesn’t and cannot summarise the whole of the person within. Meanwhile, “Dear Lie” lyrically explores the very simple concept of being held hostage by a lie, and daring to reveal the truth and free oneself in the process. These songs, while not sonically risky in the way that the uptempos are, dare to reveal what’s behind the ground that the women stand in support of feminism.

As the FanMail album campaign continued, the prominent futuristic imagery slowly receded. The “Unpretty” video sees the girls walking into a control centre (that, by the by, includes a font that is suspiciously similar to the font used for the Unown in Pokémon’s Ruins of Alph?!) studded with video screens, before they sit and meditate on hovering platforms – perhaps this is to mean that even inside of the futurism resides human spirituality and human experience that is the soul of the whole enterprise. We watch Chilli realise she doesn’t need a boob job nor the man who wants her to get one, and a young woman tentatively takes a step towards recovering from an eating disorder. As with the song itself, the video is uplifting and restorative. By the time we get to “Dear Lie”, we’re firmly anchored in the real world as the girls inhabit a hotel corridor and conquer their demons.

FanMail was apparently created under significant professional and personal pressure (as well as Left-Eye’s precarious membership of TLC, let’s not forget that Chilli had a son with executive producer Dallas Austin before the two of them split up – but still worked together closely). But in this case, pressure truly did create a diamond. Against all the odds, FanMail pretty much equalled the success of CrazySexyCool – 2 US number ones on the Hot 100 apiece; 21 million sold worldwide (CrazySexyCool is only slightly ahead with 23 million); it even managed to hit #1 on the Billboard 200 album chart (CrazySexyCool peaked at #3). What’s more, TLC expanded their sound to include stuttering, futuristic beats, while still holding onto the sassy attitude and sincere slower material that CrazySexyCool did so well. Maintaining and pushing forward with feminist values, proclaiming their independence (“My Life”), and ultimately savouring a loving, sexual relationship without apology (“Don’t Pull Out On Me Yet”), nearly every song had something to say that was worth listening to. FanMail is the gift that keeps on giving – my 13 year old self didn’t take it off repeat for a week, and 17 years later it still sounds catchy and fresh.

The post Flashback Friday: Fan mail for TLC’s ‘FanMail’ appeared first on THE 97.

Wrong. That belief or expectation of what “should” be or how something “should” sound is exactly what Beyoncé has been quietly revolting against since the surprise drop of Self-Titled in 2013. The industry dictates a pattern of how to release an album and a single; Beyoncé turned that upside down. Top 40 radio dictates what a hit single sounds like and how it should be attained; Beyoncé turned that upside down. Condescending, elitist music fans dictate what a socially conscious, Civil Rights anthem “should” sound like and consist of… and, once again, Beyoncé turned that upside down, with “Formation.”

There are many levels to “Formation,” and like with the visual album, its first listening was intended to be a first viewing for a reason. The song and video go hand-in-hand.

So, let’s break it down, shall we?

The track begins with Yoncé reading her haters, calling them “corny with that Illuminati mess.” The Illuminati conspiracy theory has been a frequent go-to for haters of the Carters, attributing their success to a mythical secret society that controls the music industry. Beyoncé offers this simple line to clear it up that her success is 100% her own. She goes on to boast about fashion, her man (“I’m possessive so I rock his Roc necklaces”), and her ethnic heritage. She proudly reminds us that her “daddy Alabama, Mama Louisiana” which, when “you mix that Negro with that Creole makes a Texas bamma.”

She continues her pro-Black message, while further addressing her haters, asserting “I like my baby hair, with baby hair and afros, I like my negro nose, with Jackson 5 nostrils.” For years, people have criticized Beyoncé for being with Jay-Z, often making fun of his nose and likening him to Joe Camel (which he has addressed in his own music). Similarly, the worst kind of haters have made fun of Beyoncé’s decision not to style her daughter’s hair, opting instead for a natural look for Blue Ivy. The video shows her daughter, proudly sporting her natural afro alongside two other young girls, also rocking natural hair. With these two simple lines, Beyoncé renders the haters’ opinions irrelevant – she asserts that, if that’s how she likes it, then that’s how it’s going to be. Finally, she addresses any criticisms that fame has changed her, letting us know that despite her immense wealth, she’s still country… with one, infinitely quotable line: “I got hot sauce in my bag, swag.”

The video version of the song includes monologues from New Orleans sensations Messy Mya (“I’m back by popular demand!“) and Big Freedia, who proclaims “I did not come to play with you hoes, I came to slay, bitch. I like cornbreads and collard greens, bitch. Oh yes, you best to believe it.” Big Freedia compliments Beyoncé’s previous, loving affirmation of Black culture with the cornbread and collard green quote, but also adds another dimension to the song: love for the gays. It’s no secret that phrases like “slay” and “trick” are a product of Black gay culture, and Beyoncé adopts the term “slay” in “Formation” – it’s repeated throughout, as a way to positively affirm the things she speaks on. Essentially, it serves as a IDGAF suffix, effectively meaning “Yes, I like who I am, bitch, I slay.” Werq, King.

The song’s title comes from the refrain in which she repeats, “Okay, ladies, now let’s get in formation, ’cause I slay.” The message here is simple: if women work together, in unison, they slay. “Prove to me you got some coordination,” she demands, perhaps speaking not only to the ladies here, but to all minority groups, effectively reminding us of the notion that there is strength in numbers, in unity. (Though, she very well could just be speaking to the ladies, after all, on 2006’s “Upgrade U” she said, “I could do for you what Martin did for the people, ran by the man but the women keep the tempo.”) She closes the refrain with, “Slay trick, or you get eliminated,” which may on the surface sound like just another line to “yassss” to, but perhaps a deeper meaning lies beneath: you have to love yourself, and believe that you “slay,” or the dominant groups will eliminate you.

Following this, Beyoncé delivers perhaps the most provocative line of the song: “when he fuck me good I take his ass to Red Lobster.” Certainly, it’s a surprise to hear such a line from Beyoncé, and it’s definitely funny… but, there’s more to this, too. Notice where the power lies in this statement: she is the one taking him to Red Lobster. She’s footing the bill, not the other way around. Stereotypes dictate that men are expected to pay for dinner, that men take women out to dinner, that women should perform sex to please a man, with his pleasure in mind… but with this one, seemingly basic line, Beyoncé flipped that notion on its head, too. The lines to follow continue on the same line of thought; she says she’ll drop him off at the mall to go shopping in her chopper, “if he hit it right.” She even says that she could “get [his] song played on the radio,” which is another role reversal. You often hear women being criticized for “fucking for tracks,” or “sleeping their way to the top” but Beyoncé is saying that she has just as much power in that department as any man would. In fact, she could make him a Black Bill Gates, she says… until she realizes, fuck that, she is “a Black Bill Gates in-the-making.”

The “Formation” refrain about slaying repeats again, and the video shows some more powerful imagery. There is an image of young, Black child dancing in a hoodie in front of a line of police. At the end of his (or her?) performance, he opens his arms in the air, and the police put their hands up. It is a not so subtle nod to Trayvon Martin (hoodie), Mike Brown (hands up) and probably Tamir Rice (the age) as well. To close the video, there is a shot of a wall, spray painted with the message “STOP SHOOTING US” followed by Beyoncé laying on top of a New Orleans police car, sinking beneath into a flooded New Orleans street. Why New Orleans? Well, aside from Yoncé being Creole, New Orleans and the Hurricane Katrina tragedy are representative of the race-based inequalities in America. The message? Formation and coordination can sink the establishment, can stop elimination.

Alongside these powerful images, she closes the song with an equally powerful and provocative statement: “You know you that bitch when you cause all this conversation, always stay gracious, best revenge is your paper.” She knew such intense imagery would spark conversation. She knows she has the power and the platform to spark dialogue, ignite the masses, and provoke thought. However, she didn’t relinquish her responsibility to also make us move on the dance floor with “Formation.” The song can make you think, twerk, and hopefully inspire action. Still, Yoncé encourages her listeners to be like her; to be gracious in response to negativity… nothing upsets haters “albino alligators” more than success in spite of the odds, in spite of their oppression.

So get in formation. And slay.

The post Yes, Beyoncé’s “Formation” is a Civil Rights anthem appeared first on THE 97.

It isn’t surprising that the media and general public reacted to the lyrics of “Bow Down” in the way they did (especially since it’s Beyoncé), but such a reaction is shallow and, well, overly dramatic. While the full song, “***Flawless,” makes things more clear, it is still foolish to label Beyoncé a hypocrite over one angry song.  As she described when BEYONCÉ was released, “Bow Down” was the result of frustration, she went into the studio and let out her angst towards her haters, and loved it so much she decided to drop it for free online.

It is important to acknowledge that Beyoncé is an artist – and not everything an artist does should be taken literally. Sometimes, artists choose to embody a character or persona different from their own as a means of artistic and emotional expression. What Beyoncé did on “Bow Down” is no different. No one criticizes an actress for playing a part that is “out of character”; and so no one should criticize Beyoncé for doing the same on a song.  After all, it is art, and entertainment.

However, combined with what follows “Bow Down” on “***Flawless,” perhaps Beyoncé has a deeper meaning.  The two main lyrics of “Bow Down” are actually quite crucial:

I know when you were little girls
You dreamt of being in my world,
Don’t forget it, don’t forget it
Respect that, bow down bitches

I took some time to live my life,
But don’t think I’m just his little wife
Don’t get it twisted, get it twisted
This my shit, bow down bitches

Following these aggressive assertions, Beyoncé inserts a monologue by Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie, a Nigerian author and feminist. Adichie says “We teach girls to shrink themselves, to make themselves smaller. We say to girls, ‘you can have ambition, but not too much, you should aim to be successful, but not too successful, because otherwise you will threaten the man.'”  With the first lyric about little girls dreaming of being in her world, Beyoncé is challenging that very notion. She is talking about how women look up to her, not a man, as an image of success. By saying they dream of being in “her world” and should “bow down,” she is putting herself in a King-like position, a larger than life position, a “man’s” position.  She asserts her indifference of any threat that her stance may pose to men. She is by no means “shrinking” or “making herself smaller” as women have been taught; she is instead empowering herself a strong, proud and successful woman who stands tall.  One must wonder, would it have been a problem if a man sang this song, replacing “bitches” with a word to reference men?  Doubt it.  Adichie also says, “We raise girls to see each other as competitors – not for jobs or accomplishments, which I think would be a good thing – but for the attention of men.” Well, with that same line from “Bow Down,” Beyoncé is acknowledging other women as her competitors for accomplishments; not for “the attention of men.”  By doing so, she’s empowering women to do something that would otherwise be considered “too masculine.”

However, that’s not all.  With the line about her being more than just “his little wife,” Beyoncé again supports Adichie’s ideas: “Because I am female, I am expected to aspire to marriage. I am expected to make my life choices always keeping in mind that marriage is the most important.”  With “Bow Down,” Beyoncé addresses this too.  She says that she is more than a wife, she is successful in her own right and that she demands respect for her own accomplishments with or without any man attached to her.  It is a simple lyric that holds a powerful message reinforced by the words of a respected feminist author.

Following this feminist interlude, “***Flawless” begins.  Here, Beyoncé flips from telling “girls” to bow down, to telling “ladies” that they’re “flawless” with the empowering chant “I woke up like this! Flawless!” that was instantly inserted into pop culture. From a shallow point of view, “***Flawless” may appear to be just another “girl power” song about being beautiful.  However, her message is a bit deeper than that.

The message behind “***Flawless” is, in fact, to embrace imperfection.  The first clue is her choice to include clips from her childhood appearance on Star Search. Her group (Girls Tyme) lost, receiving 3 stars out of 4.  The title of the song is “***Flawless” – featuring those same three stars. Why? She is saying that it was okay to be imperfect, because it made her better. Even then, she knew she couldn’t wallow in pity. Rather, she had to feel flawless to become flawless.

That’s why the song exists, as a reminder that in the face of imperfection or failure, she’s flawless.  And, she’s here to remind you that you’re flawless, too. “I woke up like this, flawless” — who on Earth wakes up literally looking flawless? No one! Not even Beyoncé. It is obviously figurative. Embracing your imperfections, loving who you are, as you are, the way you wake up – that confidence yields flawlessness.

The final lines of Adichie’s monologue are, “We teach girls that they cannot be sexual beings in the way that boys are. Feminist: a person who believes in the social, political, and economic equality of the sexes.”  Fitting, then, that Beyoncé enlisted Nicki Minaj for the song’s remix.

On the remix, Beyoncé not only addresses her own flawed personal life (the elevator incident: “Of course sometimes shit goes down when there’s a billion dollars on an elevator.”) but she also adds these lyrics: “I wake up looking this good, and I wouldn’t change it if I could. You can say what you want, I’m the shit. I want everyone to feel like this.” This clearly outlines her intentions with “***Flawless.”

With the addition of Nicki Minaj and her controversial deliberately shocking and sexual lyrics, she challenges that very notion of men and women being equal. The things Nicki says that are considered “shocking” probably wouldn’t be so if they came from a man. Nicki’s own brand of feminism is challenging the norms of what a woman should or shouldn’t say. Beyoncé clearly embodies that as well on the original track, specifically “Bow Down,” and the remix.

“***Flawless” is key to understanding the BEYONCÉ album as a whole.  It provides the framework for a lot of the content on the album and its theme of embracing imperfection. What seems to be just another female empowerment anthem is actually all that and more. Not all feminists agree, and that’s fine… they don’t have to. In Beyoncé’s eyes, her picture of feminism is flawless.

See the photo above of her standing proud in front of a screen that reads “FEMINIST” at this year’s MTV VMAs.  Any questions?

The post ***Flawless Feminism: How Beyoncé became a feminist appeared first on THE 97.