Janelle Monáe - The ArchAndroid (Suites II and III)

Every once in a while an album seems to come out of nowhere and knock you clean off your feet, dazzle your senses and remind you how great music can make you feel so goddamn happy to be alive. Janelle Monáe’s dizzying debut album – a thematic follow-up to 2007’s Metropolis: Suite I (The Chase) EP – is one such record. It’s a concept album based loosely on Fritz Lang’s ‘Metropolis’, and it contains more ideas and inventiveness in its 70 minutes than any album these ears have heard over the last few years. It fritters between funky soul music, string section-assisted folk, prog rock, piano ballads and everything else in between, crucially without ever sounding forced or pretentious. It’s schizophrenic and focused at the same time, similar in scope to André 3000’s The Love Below, but unlike that record there doesn’t seem to be a note or beat out of place here. Put simply, if you thought OutKast’s kaleidoscopic sound was as out-there and playful as modern hip-hop can get, then prepare to have your mind sent into space.

Those with a tendency to shudder at the mere mention of the term ‘concept album’ will be relieved to hear that The ArchAndroid can still be fully enjoyed without delving too deep into the story and themes running through it. The album is made up of two distinct sections, or suites; the narrative deals with Monáe’s return to the 21st century after she is genoraped in the 28th century and sent back to the present to liberate Metropolis from a secret society of oppressors. Not exactly something you’d expect from a major label hip-hop record, but then Monáe is not your typical artist. Anyone familiar with the expansive work of free jazz lunatic Sun Ra should feel right at home here.

Suite II opens with a cinematic instrumental that sets the tone for the ambitious epic that is to follow. Dramatic Herrmannesque strings blend seamlessly into ‘Dance Or Die’, the most straightforward hip-hop track here, but one that’s bursting with energy and urgency. Then along comes ‘Faster’, a funk track reminiscent of Off The Wall-era Michael Jackson, and a potential single that might just grab the wider public’s ears and hips in the way that ‘Hey Ya!’ did back in 2003. From here Monáe starts to genre-hop, seemingly at will: ‘Sir Greendown’ sounds a lot like ‘Moon River’ (yes, that ‘Moon River’!) and ‘Oh, Maker’ mixes gentle acoustic guitars, tinkling pianos and breezy beats to create a surefire radio once it (inevitably) gets released as a single. If Burt Bacharach ever decided to do an R&B track, it would surely sound something like this.

With almost every song sounding like it’s from a different album, right down to epic closer ‘BabopbyeYa’, The ArchAndroid is certainly a lot to take in on first listen, but the sheer quality and confidence on display here demands repeat visits. Monáe’s vocals tie the whole thing together beautifully; wherever the music goes she’s able to follow, and the ease with which she flits from one style to the next makes this a staggering achievement. The word genius is thrown at us these days like taxpayers’ money gets thrown at failing banks, but for once the accolade is justified here. To pigeonhole The ArchAndroid as hip-hop does Monáe a great disservice – this is simply great, eclectic music made by a woman at the absolute peak of her powers. You need to hear it to believe it.