Because when you record a song as good as "Umbrella", it doesn't matter.

The song does all the work for you. It comes on, it blasts out of the speakers like nothing else on the radio right now, it demands you turn the volume knob far past the 3/4 point it's usually set at for childish things like Fergie and Maroon 5, it rattles your bones with a pounding drum beat and a synth that screams bloody murder for four minutes, it lays the guitar on thick during the pre-chorus, chorus, and brief post-chorus opportunity to catch your breath. And somewhere in between, a little girl sings sweet nothings about staying with her lover until the end and protecting him from harm. Oh, and Jay-Z raps about hydroplaning and his record label.

Sure, Rihanna's voice is thin. Sure, her stage presence roughly equates to that of Beyoncé nursing a hangover. Sure, she likely hasn't written a note of music in her life. But you need to take pleasure where you can get it in this world, and right now nothing pleases me more than seeing an R&B songstress formerly distinguishable only by her Barbadian accent suddenly up and rock out like she's been a regular at the House of Blues for years. And make no mistake, "Umbrella" is rock. Mechanical, tightly constructed, slightly overpolished rock, but rock nonetheless. Hell, half of the rock bands out there could be described the same way. Whatever you want to call it, it's genius, and it's the best song I've heard all year. Rihanna cares not what you think of her limitations - she's doing her thing. Props, shorty.

This entry was posted by Darryl, on Friday, June 8, 2007. You can leave your response.