A Seat at the Table

If you're thinking "that album cover is unflattering", you already got got. By modern standards, the woman in the original painting is unattractive, but upon original review, she was the epitome of beauty - infallibly pure beauty. So I implore you to look at Solange's face; really stare at it, and find me the part which is flawed. Is it the proportion that detracts, is it the lack of manicuring? I promise, the longer you look, the prettier she gets.

But before we address expectations, let's state the obvious: Solange is Beyonce's little sister. I start here not to trivialize her work, but to make a distinct comparison. Beyonce, in recent times, has taken a fierce stance on the pitfalls of a nation focused on a singular source of outer beauty. Add to that boldness her street-angelic voice, unprecedented fame, insane wealth, dynamically modest marriage, and somehow universal adoration, and that may leave you wondering, what does that leave for her sister? A whole lot, it turns out. 

This compilation, more than any other I've heard from her, is her story. What's lovely about it (and is in stark contrast to her sister's recent expressions) is how insistent she is on affirming her lack of singularity. This album is about existing in society, and her perspective on the matter is pretty well laid out in the title, A Seat at the Table. 

There are a few themes running throughout that allude to this concept, but by far the most prominent is race. I think we can all agree that the last few years have been unearthing. How it feels to be black in America is not a new story, and I won't bother retelling it, but regardless of how persistently and various in form that story is told, it never seems to make it all the way to the inner ear. A 10 year-old may be the elected representative of the kids table, but their opinion has very little effect on whether Christmas features ham or roast beef. Solange demands an equal voice, for her race, for her gender, in her family - for anyone who hasn't disearned their right to it - she demands a seat at the table. 

But does the music reflect that? 

Oh my gosh yes. A friend best described this album as "a breath of fresh air". The production has the intimacy of Late Nights, but without all the falandering. It has the depth of Graduation but with mostly live instrumentation. The lyrics hit sparingly, the cadence is slow, her vibrato is elongated, and each word is clear, but somehow it's still a party. The tempo is soothing, the keys are warm, and vocal control is just on point. Add to that the eclectic production and feature lists and you've got an album of the year contender. 

Of importance, Solange moved to New Orleans a few years ago, and boy does it show; specifically through Lil Wayne and Master P features, references to St. Charles, and a consistent undertone of brass and piano. Allegorically though, the tone is one of a wisdom only held by someone who has lived with those they're trying to help. The city really does change you - it simplifies you, it humbles you, it makes apparent your priorities, and it rarely takes long. And it's not for everyone. It's a city of resiliency, and most notably, it's a city that does not tolerate intolerance. Somehow, every ounce of that is in every note of this.

I try not to venture into individual songs too much, but I should say: although Cranes In The Sky was the breakout hit, I think Mad holds the most weight, especially immediately following its interlude. (A quick aside: This is how you incorporate skits into your album, just leave the music running!) Wayne and Solange in tandem really drive home the frustration of maneuvering respectfully in a world where you have every right to be angry. Wayne makes the Iverson argument: this path to success wasn’t encouraged, I worked very hard at something I was good at, and most of the time I was met with disdain. I don’t owe you calamity. Solange makes the Lauryn argument: my serenity is compensation for your lack of empathy - remember that. Mad is a definitive insight into her position on the matter at hand. 

I’m particularly glad about this album coming right on the heels of Lemonade. A Seat at the Table is the tails to Beyonce’s heads; where we already have the perspective of the girl you could never talk to in high school, we now get a take from her sister, the girl you could talk to about anything. It just seems pertinent to point out how powerful a thing it is to have both those in the world at the same time. 

Overall, A Seat at the Table is a joy to listen to. It's a motherly whisper to check your privilege at the door, it's her best work yet, and it gets better with every listen. 

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Rating: 9.5

Favorite song: Mad