
Barbadian vixen Rihanna has grown from sun-kissed Bajan sweetie to heaving disco queen to bright-eyed balladeer. Now “Rated R”, Rihanna’s first album since that Chris Brown thing, recasts her as a searing woman scorned. It’s 13 tracks of sleek female empowerment, a pose so loud and obvious that you want to believe it. Rihanna’s new songs don’t show emotional growth as much as they promote turning the tables or, as on “Rude Boy”, cynically fetishising the submissiveness she now repudiates.
by Mark Emge








