Whatever happened to the girl who assumed control of her life and her career? The one who united all of us as one nation under rhythm and who taught us how love goes? After a lengthy hiatus, it's official: Janet Jackson is back.
As a longtime fan, I'm confident enough to concede that Jackson's last great album from start to finish was 1997's deep confessional jam "The Velvet Rope." Her last good album was 2001's free-spirited and eclectic "All For You," and her last above-average album was 2004's post-Super Bowl mea culpa "Damita Jo." Since then, 2006's "20 Y.O." and 2008's "Discipline" both had a few standout cuts, but after the artistic triumph of "Velvet," the ratio of foundation-to-filler on each subsequent album has gradually reversed. Critics are eager to point to her infamous halftime show as the tipping point between "good Janet" and "bad Janet," but that is hardly accurate or fair. Jackson's musical output of late was perhaps hardest-hit by shifting trends in the recording industry.
While Jackson has always owned her sexuality and rightfully empowered others to do the same, it started (intentionally or not) taking center stage in her lyrics. Her music became less about saying something meaningful and more about copying what others were already saying -- alas, not without awkwardness. Consider her 2008 single "Feedback": there is actually a lyric that says, "My swag is serious/Heavy like a first-day period." Such a declaration is beyond ridiculous to type out let alone sing aloud, but perhaps most offensive is that it's so far beneath her usual manner of coy, come-hither lines that used to entice body AND brain. While we don't have to regress all the way back to the innocence of classics like "Let's Wait Awhile" and "Come Back To Me," at least that initial longing matured nicely into sultry hits like "You Want This" and "I Get Lonely" before derailing into that land of TMI somewhere along the way.
Adding to a recipe that was approaching disaster was her (and everyone else's) increased use of processed vocals. As if we needed any reminders that Janet is from a famous music family, more than a few tracks went as far as making her sound a little too much like Michael for anyone's liking. Even worse was the inclusion of obligatory rap segments from guest artists, which are fine as long as they add a new layer or unique dimension to the song. Many of these attempts featured bigger names like Kanye West, Khia, and Nelly, but they failed to mesh with Jackson's genre-hopping and also pulled focus away from her -- simply because a lot of the popular singles at the time were using that formula. For a moment or two, such phoned-in methods may have caused her pop-royalty crown to slip. A
recent analysis in "Flavorwire" brilliantly summarized how Jackson's late-'80s/early-'90s heyday involved her setting the trends instead of following them. While my own take on her recent efforts suggests that she's guilty of the latter, allow me to make a case for her exoneration.
As her first album in seven years, "Unbreakable" is simultaneously Jackson's return to form and a mission statement about her legacy as a pop icon. Clearly, the downtime has been good for her to refresh and focus. Right away, it's difficult not to be struck by the regal, majestic air of the cover art, which is a welcome thematic statement when compared to the scantily-clad (a.k.a. been-there, done-that) nature of her previous four albums' artwork. There's a good mix of styles represented among the album's 17 songs: the gentle inspiration of the title track, the trip-hop tinge of "Damn Baby," and even the classic-rock flourishes of "Well Traveled." In her grand tradition of releasing albums with higher track counts (often increased by a handful of spoken word interludes), Jackson more than gives us our money's worth with 16 new songs and only one interlude -- in contrast with today's average album length of 10 to 12 songs.
Unlike her more scattered collections, everything on "Unbreakable" adheres to its central messages of strength, resilience, and progress -- even when it's telling you the best thing you can do for yourself is let down your guard and have a little fun. "Burnitup," her dynamite collaboration with fellow R&B superstar Missy Elliott, is the most uptempo of these songs to capture that positive spirit. Though Elliott and the album's other contributor J. Cole could be classified under my earlier claim of obligatory guest-spots, they succeed in finding a more natural fit within their respective songs and the overall vibe of the album. More than anything, I'm just glad to hear Jackson's voice again. Her own voice, not distorted or auto-tuned on every track, is actually allowed to breathe and flourish. As light as her vocals can be, she does sound more confident -- especially given the industry's current make-or-break demand for vocal prowess that separates the wheat of Adele and Gaga from the chaff of countless imitators-in-waiting.
"Unbreakable" succeeds in large part because its strings are invisible. Yes, it has a lot in common with Jackson's mid-career highlights, but it's not trying too hard or forcing itself to achieve those same degrees of relevance. Instead, the album simply exists as a record of what this absence from the spotlight has taught her and allows the listener to sit back and experience its wisdom. Songs like the lilting "Shoulda Known Better" may seem too straightforward or even lackluster on the surface, but it comes down to what they mean to Jackson and why she chose to record and include them. It's worth mentioning that this is Janet's first album since Michael's passing, and the lessons from that loss echo through the album's several contemplative ballads. Ultimately, "Unbreakable" is a powerful tool to reconnect with her fans and explore her inner self in a truly transparent way. Jackson is one of the few remaining pop stars who has resisted manufacturing her image. Cultural descendants like Beyonce and Rihanna don't always delve as deeply into discussions about race, gender, sexuality, politics, or personal identity through their own music. However, they will be forever indebted to Jackson's uncanny ability to take even the most controversial topics and make them both palatable and danceable at the same time.
Jackson herself has admitted that part of her time away was spent evaluating the future of her career and her role in the music industry. As far as I'm concerned, she will always have a place in pop culture... as long as she continues to play her cards right and responsibly wields her ongoing influence.
Originally released this summer but new to Netflix, "Kung Fury" is a welcome blast to and from the past. This short, action-packed parody has more '80s-centric details than you can fit into a DeLorean.
