‘Graffiti’ (2009)

Chris Brown

75 Decibels

The controversy over ‘Graffiti’ isn’t whether or not Chris Brown has effectively assembled 13 great tracks, or even 13 terrible ones. Instead, it rests on whether or not he can properly hang his head in front of the world and atone for his sins in stereo.

On the night before the 2009 Grammy Awards in February, the then-19-year-old allegedly gotten in a physical altercation with fellow R&B superstar Rihanna. This forced every media outlet to endlessly scrutinize him as a public example against domestic violence. He pled guilty to a felony and taken a deal involving community labor and five years’ probation.

Since the incident, he has poked his head out of the shadows every so often to relentlessly apologize for his actions against Rihanna via appearances on Larry King Live, ABC, MTV and, most importantly, YouTube. He continues to be the hopeless victim of cruel jokes and verbal abuse from fans, celebrities and tweeters everywhere. And maybe, people still shy away from any affirmative mention of the triple-platinum star.

Yes, all of these reasons have recently plagued Brown’s image – but you don’t hear any of that in the furiously rebellious track ‘I Can Transform Ya.’ It’s a robotic jungle full of thunderous cranking, whirring, whistling and smashing where Brown and songmates Swizz Beatz and Lil Wayne aggressively promise to ‘change you up.’ It’s as monstrous and well done as the lead into his third album, but it turns its back to the animosity that Chris Brown has persevered in the past year.

There will be legions of critics and fans who slam the album simply because of the fact that Brown’s lyrics don’t resonate enough sympathy. Sure, there are slower times where you can tell he’s alluding to his pain. ‘Crawl’ is a vocally strong power ballad where Brown pleads to pick up the pieces, and ‘So Cold’ is bravely apologetic. He actually sings ‘She was the only one, and I know I was dead wrong.’ In ‘So Cold’ and on the less successful ‘Lucky Me,’ he commits to smiling through his sadness.

But the large majority of the album focuses on the upbeat music Brown’s known for and succeeds a great deal of the time. He plays sweet on the mid-tempo with ‘Sing Like Me,’ slows it down on the sexy drum-thump of ‘Take My Time’ and gets electro-happy sampling Eric Prydz’s ‘Call On Me’ and ‘Pass Out.’

‘What I Do’ is a hood-happy bass heavy thumper, and ‘Wait’ is a chance for Brown to flaunt his sexual prowess – a rather bold move for the context of the album.

If nothing else, ‘Graffiti’ does create two interesting moments. ‘Fallin Down,’ illustrates a churning, frustrated explanation of Brown’s state of current existence. ‘Why is it so easy for you to blame?’ he begs, later wailing, ‘It’s getting heavy, I’m getting ready to break down.’ Then there’s the bouncy but cryptic ‘Famous Girl,’ where Brown makes alluding statements to a famous lost love: ‘I might have cheated in the beginning, I was wrong for writing ‘Disturbia,’ but I meant it in ‘Forever,’ we were supposed to be together.’

But like the rest of the album, a potentially meaningful message is subdued under a snappy production. Those looking for Brown to show his soul won’t see it on ‘Graffiti,’ and for better or worse, that makes it more enjoyable. On the level of apology, the album is an all-out fail. While ex-girlfriend Rihanna’s ‘Rated R’ reeks of desperate dark emotion, Chris Brown flaunts confidence in redemption.

temoore@syr.edu

Published on December 7, 2009 at 12:00 pm