It’s her playground of provocation, letting her keep TV censors jumpy and address/not address Chris Brown while messing around in the surprisingly far corners of her range.
Rather, she cares about what the style can do for her. Josh Langhoff: Rihanna takes authority of this ’60s soul rip, because unlike Sam Smith, she doesn’t sound like she idolizes ’60s soul. “Love on the Brain” is very traditional in form, its murky doo-wop setting a measured pace, but her careful phrasing locates the song’s edges. Jonathan Bradley: Even when swooning, Rihanna is able to invest her songs with abrasion and restlessness, giving otherwise straightforward ballads odd shadings of character and color. The tension doesn’t cease, and neither does the organ. She’s rarely sung this convincingly either: scraping her high register, throwing away lines, reverting to her normal range for the chorus. Katherine St Asaph: Anti‘s requisite Top 40 and Grammy concession - that one line doesn’t stop it any more than the “Love the Way You Lie” chorus did - and entirely fine.Īlfred Soto: It’s true: this arpeggiated track, a throwback, sounds like nothing on the Hot 100. The song itself isn’t that exceptional, and neither is her vocal, frankly - but it’s so refreshing hearing her take a hard left turn like this that I don’t much care. It also sounds like nothing else in Rihanna’s discography, which makes it all the more interesting and unexpected. Thomas Inskeep: This timpani-punctuated, ’60s soul throwback stands out like a bloody thumb, because you best believe nothing else on the radio sounds like it. Maxwell Cavaseno: Rihanna attempting a Amy Winehouse style ballad by way of Lenny Kravitz shouldn’t appeal to anyone, and the results really support that sense of apprehension the world should’ve listened to. The fulcrum of the entire track - with the jaw-dropping lyric “must be love on the brain/That’s got me feeling this way/It beats me black and blue but it fucks me so good/and I can’t get enough” - is blunt about ambivalent desire in ways where anger and a profound sadness complete against each other. This is made contemporary by a buried semi-trap beat, and some excellent swearing. Mark Sinker: Deep-voice Rihanna is best Rihanna, and it needn’t even be most of the cut, because it brings out the finest in the rest of her.Īnthony Easton: The exhaustion and emotional masochism here are timeless, quoting Dionne Warwick, Al Green, doo-wop, Amy Winehouse’s simulacra of those sources, Alicia Keys, The Crystals, and Sonnet 20. That way that Rihanna slips from her higher to her lower register around the one minute mark is worth all the points for in itself. With “Love on the Brain”, Rihanna saves high schoolers everywhere from the slight awkwardness of trying to slow dance with the guy who you’re not entirely sure if you’re into or not as Marvin Gaye intones “let’s make love tonight” in your ear. The obligatory slow dance was to “Sexual Healing,” which was probably more awkward for the chaperones than it was for us. Katie Gill: When I was seventeen in the late 2000s, we had senior prom.