An album so minimal, so distant, it's barely there.
The production's prodding and icy, mistaking unpredictable blurts of sound for jazziness, the way a bad horror movie mistakes jump scares for scariness.
Lyrically it's all or nothing, deadpan bluntness or vague mad-libsian wisdom-by-association, with ten times as many limp rhymes as actual insights.
And even when Solange has a personal message or meaning, it's delivered with all the theater of a commencement address, never deigning to welcome or impress or entertain. The guest spoken word segments are the most-moving parts, but they don't make a moving, personal, or affecting album, absent any actual musicmaking. Look at Common, Chance, Kanye, Frank, Heems, or hell, Beyonce, for how this can be done better.
Three of the song titles start with "don't", a crucial section talks about how this isn't for me, and the overall tone is of pushing at arms-length-plus. I believe Solange. Good for her for having the courage to make this seemingly very sincere, personal record. Sincerely. But as music or entertainment or art, we can agree to agree, it is squarely not for me 2/5
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