Music Review: Ariana Grande's 'Dangerous Woman'

59 million people can’t be wrong: it’s a delightful YouTube video. The unremittingly charming Jimmy Fallon invited pop star Ariana Grande to "The Tonight Show" to play a whimsical game of “Wheel of Musical Impressions.” The Floridian pop starlet is game. She performs a raspy, spot-on Britney Spears impression. She wails as Christina Aguilera, even riffing for about thirty seconds longer than anyone wanted, just as is Aguilera’s wont. She finishes the silliness with a scarily accurate impersonation of Celine Dion, complete with cheesy crowd goading.

I love this video. But before I sat down to listen to Grande’s newest album "Dangerous Woman,"  I was a total novice of her recording career (save for the inevitable occasional “Bang Bang” listen). I knew Ariana had a big voice, legions of adoring fans, and a few hits. Yet I never knew her to be an artist of great complexity or depth.

Unfortunately, after my listening, I still don’t. "Dangerous Woman"  offers little in the way of commentary or honest emotions, opting instead for the factory tested pop issue of the music industry’s best and brightest. The album’s titular track is hugely popular, with over 135 million Spotify streams, but musically it bores with its repetitive, familiar chord structure and Drakian triplet-heavy hip-hop beat. Even a sick guitar solo can’t save me from feeling like Grande is leaving something on the table.

A perfect encapsulation of my frustration: why would Ariana Grande, perhaps our generation’s most vocally gifted pop star, utilize auto-tune in tracks like “Moonlight” and “Into You?” Furthermore, how much can I really connect to an album in which the marquee artist only has songwriting credits on half the songs? Perhaps most perplexing, how is Lil Wayne sliming his way onto the albums of relevant pop stars? You could make the case that Tunechi is still relevant, but my counter would be that you’ve found yourself in a time machine back to 2008. Props to you on your inter-dimensional communication, though!

All of this being said, "Dangerous Woman" has some straight-up bangers. Any album with so much industry talent is bound to have at least a few hits. “Greedy” is the record’s brightest spot, the best mix of Grande’s otherworldly vocal chords and the production team’s brilliant instrumental arrangement. I’m still picking up my jaw from the key change at the end. “I Don’t Care” has an irresistible slow jam feel that left me vibing along to the artist’s apathetic message. “Bad Decisions” is 3:46 of pop heroin, with Grande netting an impressive songwriting credit.

The features on the album are something of a mixed bag, but at least the musical cameos by Nicki Minaj, Lil Wayne, Macy Gray, and Future offer a lot to talk about. On the catchy “Side to Side,” Minaj provides the best lyric of the album (and perhaps the greatest in the history of music), “Wrist icicle ride d**k bicycle.” Wayne is regrettably present on the album’s nadir, “Let Me Love You.” Macy Gray (“Leave Me Lonely”) kind of sounds like a cartoon rat; I don’t think I will be perusing her catalogue. Future gives a listless effort, spending two minutes of the song “Everyday” merely chanting, “Everyday.” By the time he wraps up his weak verse (“I fight for the things you believe in / I got your body and put it on drive and I got the keys”), I was wishing he had stuck with the one word.

I suppose Grande’s newest effort is enjoyable enough. Even the problems I have with the work arise from the belief that Ari offers the potential to move people in ways that few can. Sure, I was a little disappointed that an album titled "Dangerous Woman"  was so emotionally dependent on the actions of men. But the work certainly has its moments. Forget the politics; Ariana Grande is worth a listen. She hasn’t realized her enormous potential yet, but when she does? Look out.