Although it’s estimated that one in four cowboys were Black during the heyday of the Wild West that later became popularized by Hollywood through silver screen “cowboys” like John Wayne, Black men were rarely featured in the romanticized lore of the West. As Jordan Peele recently pointed out, Sidney Poitier’s Buck and the Preacher was “the first film that I know of that had Black cowboys represented in it. The myth that cowboys were just white guys running around, it’s just not true, but we don’t know that because of Hollywood…” And yeah, maybe that “myth” of it just being “white guys running around” has something to do with the fact that the white man is the “entity” forever tied to being the exploiter. To this end, one might wonder why the Black community, so familiar as it is with being exploited, would want to be associated with the many issues that go hand in hand with “cowboy culture.” Yes, it’s all part of “rewriting the narrative” Black people have constantly been written out of, but this is one in particular that anybody with a sense of being taken advantage of might not want to be a part of (except for Lil Nas X). After all, how do you think those cowboys took over all that “wide, open space”? It wasn’t through a peaceful exchange of words with Native Americans.
In this regard, Beyoncé adopting the persona of a cowboy, or girl, has taken on a weighty meaning (and those insisting she’s posing as Lady Godiva need only look inside the album to see the full cowgirl regalia). Especially in the wake of Kelis’ unapologetic callout about the “level of disrespect” it took for Bey to not bother contacting her or someone on her management team to give a heads up about sampling her work on the album’s fourth track, “Energy.” Kelis also added that “some of the people in this business have no soul or integrity and they have everyone fooled.” It seems like unapologetic shade at Beyoncé and, honestly, one has to admire her courage in taking on the Beyhive. So blindly devoted with their hands folded in their laps (as they were when ignoring the leak of the album and waiting for its proper release date) that it’s impossible to ever speak ill of or call out any of the manifold imperfections pertaining to Mrs. Knowles-Carter. But Kelis isn’t having any of that deification. She’s saying what the truth of the matter is, and that’s, “You’re all sheep, I’m talking about the people who are obsessed with blind—just like, it’s so dumb, it’s so ignorant… She’s one issue because it’s stupid and it’s disrespectful and she should have at least reached out.” The very Azealia Banks sound of Renaissance also reminds one of that time Banks said of Beyoncé (after the release of Lemonade), “She’s not a ‘sister’ she’s a poacher. She’s a thief. Sisters don’t steal, sisters share.” It would seem, then, that Kelis isn’t the only one who has these thoughts.
But Banks took it one step beyond Kelis by freshly “lashing out” anew to say, “You’re ‘brainstorming’ with six people to my early records. Which are miles beyond whatever flaccid and insecure attempt you just made to try for an attention grab during Pride Month. When you don’t give a damn about the gays any other time of the year?” Banks definitely has a point there. She went on to deliver the coup de grâce with, “You’re so sneaky. You’re trying to erase my contributions to house music, dance music, electronic music and all that and make it as if I’m… God knows who. Just encapsulate me in time. You’re a fucking creep. You’re a fucking creep, Beyoncé.”
So yeah…the cowboy thing doesn’t come across as a very good look in terms of “theme” for a woman being accused of thieving what rightfully belonged to someone else. To boot, Beyoncé isn’t shy about sampling all over the place on Renaissance. From Right Said Fred to Teena Marie to Donna Summer, one might argue Yoncé got way too trigger-happy (no Derringer allusion intended, as she does mention that as her gun of choice—another cringe moment entirely). And, of course, sampling has always been a delicate issue, one that tends to become more likely to ramp up the bigger the artist is and the more people want to come out of the woodwork to shake down some cash. Madonna has been another prime example, with lawsuits for copyright infringement on “Frozen” and “Vogue” (itself a sensitive track already because of Madonna grafting vogueing from the very community Yoncé is clearly trying to appeal to on Renaissance) having been majorly publicized. But when Madonna gets sampled without permission by someone like Tory Lanez (who ripped off “Into the Groove”), she goes apeshit. Just as Beyoncé would. And let’s not overlook the fact that Madonna already doing the “fabulous cowgirl” persona for her Music album is actually a bad correlation for Bey to want to make, what with M being frequently accused of siphoning a little too heavily from other artists. By the same token, she just declared she had no plans to ever sell her song catalogue because “ownership is everything.” A statement that feels just a little rich coming from someone who has “borrowed” many times from others. It’s also a bit of a ripe-with-underlying-meaning statement when taking into account the fact that bell hooks once asked of Madonna, “Plantation Mistress or Soul Sister?” in an essay of the same name.
While no one would ever cite Beyoncé for being in that former category (though hooks did have plenty of other biting things to say about “Mrs. Carter”), Renaissance’s visual motifs are putting her in that kind of dangerous exploitative-prone “box.” Made all the more poignant by the fact that Beyoncé is from Texas. For, according to Smithsonian Magazine, “While Texas ranchers fought in the [Civil] war, they depended on their slaves to maintain their land and cattle herds. In doing so, the slaves developed the skills of cattle tending (breaking horses, pulling calves out of mud and releasing longhorns caught in the brush, to name a few) that would render them invaluable to the Texas cattle industry in the post-war era.” So is this album artwork a “celebration” of Blackness to remind people of Black cowboy history (as Nope also seeks to) or is it an unwittingly macabre foil for Bey’s own tendencies to exploit?
All this aside, Beyoncé is sure to announce in the album’s opener, “I’m That Girl,” “Please, motherfuckers ain’t stoppin’ me” (sampled from Tommy Wright III). Clearly not. And, after all, she “didn’t want this power.” But of course she did. She’s been chasing it since she was in “the hip hop, rappin’ Girl’s Tyme.” For her to say she doesn’t relish the power that comes with her Black Excellence halo would be to deny everything she’s ever done to further take advantage of that power (this includes being a spokeswoman for capitalism). And she also knows that part of that power includes the responsibility of helping to make other Black people without her finances feel comfortable in their own skin. Which is why “Cozy” ultimately comes across as a companion piece to “Brown Skin Girl.” Except Bey makes the message “edgier” by once again referencing Solange in the elevator by warning, “Might I suggest you don’t fuck with my sis?” But it also refers to Beyoncé’s Black sistren at large. Including Ts Madison, whose words from “Bitch I’m Black” get incorporated into the song (hopefully, Madison was informed), namely, “I’m dark brown, dark skin, light skin, bеige. Fluorescent bеige, bitch, I’m Black. I’m Black. I’m probably one of the Blackest motherfuckers walking around here. In this motherfucking place. I’m probably one of the Blackest motherfuckers in this house.” Bey excludes the portion where Ts mentions that beneath that Blackness, she is trans and that she’s “tired of seeing the division between Black and Black queer.” This might have been a useful portion of the piece to highlight, but it doesn’t exactly suit Beyoncé’s theme, which is, as usual, herself. And, per the rules of celebrity culture, anyone who “dissents” against her “brilliance” gets the assessment, “Green eyes envy me.” Na though. It’s more like real eyes realize real lies.
More braggadocio abounds on “Alien Superstar,” the opening to which smacks of Missy Elliott’s “Pass That Dutch” as a voice insists, “Please do not be alarmed, remain calm/Do not attempt to leave the dance floor/The DJ booth is conducting a troubleshoot test of the entire system.” Co-produced by Madonna favorites Mike Dean and Honey Dijon, Bey takes the Britney sentiment, “I love myself, it’s not a sin” and moves it to new heights with the assertion, “I’m one of one, I’m number one, I’m the only one/Don’t even waste your time trying to compete with me (don’t do it)/No one else in this world can think like me.” Yet obviously, much of her thinking tends comes from others. Including writer Barbara Ann Teer, whose words also get used on this track (even though Mood II Swing did that already on “Do It Your Way”). Addressing the motif of “uniqueness” (like she’s RuPaul or some shit) yet again, the way she repurposes Teer’s words is also designed to call out the uniqueness of the Black community itself, with Teer noting, “We dress a certain way, we walk a certain way, we talk a certain way, we, we paint a certain way, we, we make love a certain way, you know? All of these things we do in a different, unique, specific way that is personally ours.”
Elsewhere, Beyoncé sees fit to add, “I’m too classy for this world, forever, I’m that girl.” Re-mentioning both the title of track one and the fact that the celebrity cabal will eventually leave Earth in one of Elon’s spaceships, one has to wonder why, as an “alien superstar,” Bey doesn’t just leave now if she really thinks she’s too damn classy for this world. As a side note, “classy” people don’t 1) say that they’re classy or 2) use the word classy. Nor do they sample people’s shit without informing them.
Serving some major “Blow” energy, Bey provides Foxxy Cleopatra flavor on “Cuff It.” A song that seems equal parts “going out” anthem and sex song (another one directed at Jay-Z, which kind of ruins it [e.g., “Hypersonic, sex erotic/On my body, boy, you got it/Hit them ‘draulics while I ride it/Got me actin’ hella thotty”]). And whether she’s talking about cuffing clothes or body parts is at the listener’s discretion. But for those who enjoy 70s-era “grooves,” this is surely the song to beat on Renaissance as Bey continues to underscore her “alien” essence with the description, “Spaceships fly.”
The nonexistent segue into the now very controversial “Energy” is a pulsing interlude, of sorts, to bridge the space between “Cuff It” and “Break My Soul.” With help from BEAM and Big Freedia, this is the place where Bey goes hog-wild with her cowgirl steez and announces, “I just entered the country with Derringers/‘Cause them Karens just turned into terrorists.” Not sure Bey ever heard that platitude about violence begetting violence, but it seems appropriate to mention at a time when America doesn’t need more encouragement to tote guns.
As Big Freedia rounds out “Energy,” we transition into the most sample-heavy song of all, “Break My Soul.” The latter being the lead single to set the entire tone of the disco/dance-drenched album, yet one that calls out another layer of Bey’s hypocrisy in terms of urging people who can’t quit their jobs to do just that.
What follows is arguably the most annoying song, “Church Girl,” as Beyoncé chants repeatedly, “Drop it like a thotty” and essentially confirms that the entire institution of “Church” is based on impossible tenets that refuse to acknowledge human frailty as “good Christian bitches” are told to suppress all their sexuality, only to end up turning them “freakier” when it comes to sex in the end.
The slowed-down pace of “Plastic Off the Sofa” is yet another shudder-inducing love song to Jay-Z as Yoncé coos things like, “Say, say you won’t change/I love the little things that make you you/Ooh, the rest of the world is strange, stayin’ out late/Just you and me and our family/I think you’re so cool (even though I’m cooler than you).” That last line being something Lana Del Rey already noted when she said, “Yeah my boyfriend’s pretty cool/But he’s not as cool as me.”
More 70s-tinged stylings—except with an even porn-ier slant—appear on “Virgo’s Groove,” also featuring a barely detectable transition that puts all of Lady Gaga’s on Chromatica to shame. Just as Bey tries to put to shame any couple that’s been together for a long time and doesn’t fuck enough. That’s why she paints yet another vivid sexual picture in the form of, “I want it right here, right now/Cuddled up on the couch/Motorboat, baby, spin around/Slow-mo comin’ out my blouse/I want it right here, right now.” Apparently, all that Lemonade-era drama has passed now, as Bey has forgotten entirely about Jay’s cheating jag by telling him, “You’re the love of my life/Your love keeps me high/Your love gives me life.” And evidently, plenty of songwriting material.
With the help of fellow “queen” Grace Jones, Beyoncé pays homage to the “Bruk Up” dancing style on “Move.” Picking the tempo up after the slow sexual coma of “Plastic Off the Sofa” and “Virgo’s Groove,” Jones’ signature vocals are a key part of making this one of the most indelible tracks on the record as she commands, “Move out the way/I’m with my girls and we all need space/When the queen come through, part like the Red Sea/Move out the way, how many (how many) times I’ma say?/It’s a home run when the team touch base.” And “the team” of Jones and Knowles in this instance definitely does “touch base” with this song, awash in the very beats and rhythms that made Jones such a standout during the 80s.
Unlike Billie Eilish’s “OverHeated,” “Heated” takes less joy in the sexual implications of being in heat and more in one’s ability to fan themselves with a stack of bills. Again, Bey is one of the biggest proponents of Capitalism’s vicious cycle. What’s more, she didn’t seem to take heed of Lizzo’s debacle with the word “spaz” as she, presuming to use the “Bey carte blanche,” freely offers, “Spazzin’ on that ass, spaz on that ass/Fan me quick, girl, I need my glass.” She’s gonna need more than that to defend herself from those who will remind that even the hallowed Beyoncé doesn’t get a pass on using this derogatory term. Hence Bey accordingly remarking, “Monday, I’m overrated/Tuesday, on my dick” as she affirms that she doesn’t care about any “flip-floppin’ ass bitch” anyway because she has all her money to keep her immune to “haters.” But while some might brandish “hater” or “flip-floppin’ ass bitch” as terms to describe those who “disparage” their “gods,” others might concede that critiquing a person’s work is all part of the profession that Bey so gleefully counts herself a part of.
The one that prompts her, once again, to go on and on about all her money (getting thicker) on “Thique.” Also a body positive anthem that’s up-tempo and rhythmic, the Sasha Fierce side of Beyoncé is in full effect as she prepares us for the following track, “All Up in Your Mind,” by stating in this one, “Oh, baby, come feel me/Oh, baby, I’m all up in your mind.” Transitioning into the aggravated beats of this particular number, the sound and lyrical feel of it has all the makings of something out of the Rihanna playbook, with Bey singing, “You need a really wild one (you’re mine, you’re mine)/I knew that you can’t live without her/He know I’m a fucking problem/I knew that I could get it out him.”
The other thing Bey has gotten out him—“him” being Renaissance in this case—is the throwback dance feel that reaches a crest on “America Has a Problem.” Rather than being a callout about, say, America’s gun or white supremacist problem, the song instead further emphasizes Renaissance’s “throw it back” vibe by quoting Kilo Ali’s 1990 single, “America Has A Problem (Cocaine)” and sampling from the song. Keeping the “white girl” subject at the forefront throughout, she’s also sure to name-check Scarface’s Tony Montana via the lyrics, “Call me when you wanna get hi-i-i-igh/Tony Montana with the racks.” In fact, the song does its best to liken the high of drugs to the high of love, as Madonna does on “Medellín” through the declaration, “We built a cartel just for love.” So it is that Bey interchanges the highs and lows of love and coke with, “Your ex still a dope, but it ain’t crack enough/I’m supplying my man, I’m in demand soon as I land/Just know I roll with them goons, in case you start acting familiar/This kind of love, big business, whole slab, I kill for.” And yes, Jay and Bey’s love certainly has been big business for both of them. Something she’s been more concerned with promoting until recently, with the sonic homages of this album designed to play up a supposed consistent love affair between Beyoncé and the gays. And yet, because of Beyoncé’s “Church Girl” status, it’s been a long road for her to become so openly committed to gay men.
Bey’s intent to play up her connection to the Black gay community (like when she sings of her uncle, “Uncle Johnny made my dress”) that seems conveniently chic right now is underlined once more on “Pure/Honey.” The samples come hard and heavy here, too, with Yoncé’s sudden 90s predilections manifesting through Kevin Aviance’s 1996 “Cunty.” She also incorporates Mike Q’s 2011 track, “Feels Like,” featuring Kevin Jz Prodigy. Choosing to at last repurpose her own words for once (“to the left”), she instructs, “Bad bitches to the left/Money bitches to the right/You can be both, meet in the middle, dance all night.” The “you can be both” assurance also slightly plays on the notions of bisexuality and transsexuality, and what with Bey all at once being very gung-ho about the LGBTQIA+ community, that seems an appropriate turn of phrase.
Considering Renaissance has been released at the apex of summer, it’s only natural to conclude the record with “Summer Renaissance.” But the title works on a dual level as Bey saved the most mac daddy sample for last, brandishing Donna Summer’s legendary “I Feel Love.” Yet it also has tinges of Mr. Fingers’ “Can You Feel It” (which Kanye reinvigorated on 2016’s “Fade”). Giving more Rihanna (think: “Come here rude boy, boy is you big enough?”), Bey oozes, “Boy, you never have a chance/If you make my body talk, I’ma leave you in a trance/Got you walking with a limp, bet this body make you dance.” If it didn’t make him dance, then surely it made everyone else listening to Renaissance. And that, ultimately, is what Bey has sought to do. Even if there are many others who can still achieve that more artfully and innovatively than she can (thus her need to sample like she’s at a buffet). Including the “White Queen” of “borrowing” from Black disco and house music, Madonna (as an upcoming compilation called Finally Enough Love is soon to remind). In truth, Renaissance doesn’t exactly upstage what M already did long ago with “Vogue,” Erotica or Confessions on a Dance Floor. But maybe Renaissance is just as much about reappropriating what has too often been attributed to white musicians as it is about Bey putting on her own horse blinders to the idea that no one who isn’t as rich as her is really in much of a dancing mood right now.
