Janelle Monáe

First grabbing national attention as the stylish looker riding and singing in the back of OutKast's talking Caddy in the "Morris Brown" video, Janelle Monáe steps into her own sizable theatrical space with Metropolis: The Chase Suite. The collection of seven songs is the first of four thematically linked EPs under the blanket title Metropolis, and though The Chase Suite was first released last year independently, it now sees a big-label re-release from Bad Boy.

Monáe’s public face is a giddy blend of sci-fi playfulness and saddle-shoes retro style. Her music is little bit of Zap Mama genre blending, some Homogenic-era Björk android futurism and a whole lot of André 3000 fun. However, what Monáe most resembles is the no-bounadries hip-hop of the early 2000s, setting up heavy parallels with Del tha Funkee Homosapien’s character on the Deltron 3030 album and Kool Keith's multiple Dr. Octagon and Black Elvis/Lost in Space personae.

The horns on "Sincerely, Jane" conjure big-production showgirl spectacles from '60s Vegas, and Monáe's operatic delivery over finger-picked guitars on the hushed "Cybertronic Purgatory" sounds like an aria for a dying robot world. The Chase Suite winds down with the grooving and soulful "Mr. President," a song which doesn't fit the sci-fi vibe of the rest of the EP, but which on its own is a charming if unsubtle indictment of governmental misdirection. It's not quite Nina Simone or Mavis Staples in terms of deft handling of the issues, but it tries–and comes close. If The Chase Suite sounds all over the place, well, it is. But it's so odd and endearing and promising that its scattershot construction is forgivable, refreshing and reinvigorating. It's one of this year's high points.

—Chris Hassiotis
09.09.08

Janelle Monáe's uniqueness was not apparent from the beginning, as heard on Big Boi's second Got Purp compilation. The neo-electro remake of DeBarge's "Time Will Reveal" and the Off the Wall-emulating pop-funk of "Lettin' Go" were standouts -- even amidst nuggets like Konkrete's "Shit Ya Drawers," believe it or not -- but Monáe seemed destined to be one of those artists who appears on a glorified mixtape and either disappears or makes one under-promoted album prior to fleeing the industry. Even after spotlights on OutKast's Idlewild, it could not have been known to many outside Monáe's Atlanta circle that she was much more in line with Nona Hendryx and Afrofuturism than Ciara and 106 & Park. She probably has more time for Octavia Butler than Perez Hilton. Inspired by Fritz Lang's 1927 science fiction classic, Metropolis, Suite 1: The Chase is the first of four planned releases designed as easily processible EPs detailing the life of a rebellious soul-equipped android who risks disassembly by falling in love with a human. Strip away the concept, the packaging, and the equally entertaining and deep lyrics dealing in class/race, slavery, isolation, and love -- all of that material, as crucial as it is to the whole -- and there remains a handful of magnetic songs transferred through theatrical soul, 21st century new wave, ice-coated opera, and brassy hip-hop funk. The disc's center is made of "Violet Stars Happy Hunting!!!" and "Many Moons," conjoined songs that trump anything on the André 3000 half of OutKast's Speakerboxxx/The Love Below. "Sincerely, Jane" is dressed up in all the fantastical instrumentation of an otherworldly Broadway production but is as grounded in grim realism as Marvin Gaye's "Inner City Blues" or 2Pac's "Brenda's Got a Baby," and like those two songs, it is fueled by despair rather than self-righteousness. Monáe's voice is knockout level throughout, likely versatile enough to handle any style with effortlessly expressive ease. ~ Andy Kellman, All Music Guide