Queen Bey’s Ascension to Goddess Status: How She Got the Whole World Sipping Lemonade

By Henry Walsh

Arts Contributor

Within two days of its release, Lemonade, Beyoncé’s latest album and sophomore visual album, became a cultural phenomenon that was quickly inescapable.

The immediate hatred directed towards those suspected of being “Becky with the good hair”– a list that includes Rita Ora, Rachel Roy, and, in a bit of a communication gaffe, Rachael Ray– was impenetrable. This album’s status as a record so blatantly by and for women of color made it controversial for the white people who had, until “Formation”, thought of Beyoncé as one of their own. It’s almost like the Saturday Night Live sketch, “The Day Beyoncé Turned Black”, was coming true.

With that in mind, even without all the controversy surrounding it, Lemonade is a damn good album. It never really hits a low point, and each individual song is good enough to stand out on its own while also creating one of the most eclectic, affecting albums of the year.

The first track, “Pray You Catch Me”, balances tones of hope and sadness deftly, wrapping them up in an emotionally affecting ballad that takes you on a journey, telling a story you can’t help but compare to the high-profile family of Beyoncé and Jay-Z (and Blue Ivy, of course).

It plays almost like a lullaby– a futuristic, pop-perfection lullaby. The lyrics keep you guessing, starting with clichés then taking a complete 180 away from them in lines like, “You can taste the dishonesty, it’s all over your breath/ As you pass it off so cavalier, but even that’s a test.”

The song is obviously about a couple keeping secrets from each other, with Bey’s character wanting her significant other to find hers out. She prays she catches him whispering, but also that he catches her listening. It’s a clear representation of her hesitance to confront him, but her need for closure and truth. Whether or not this song becomes a single, it deserves to be on replay as a go-to ballad for years to come.

The next standout track is “Don’t Hurt Yourself”, featuring Jack White. This is the most clear attack on Jay-Z, ending with the pronouncement “if you try this s*** again, you gon’ lose your wife”. Overall, the song is a burning diss track that will likely leave lasting scorch marks on Jay’s career for at least a while. Jack White’s inclusion in the chorus gives the song a slightly bigger bite, and creates a new sonic angle for Bey to take advantage of in the future.

 Mrs. Knowles-Carter has a right to be proud, though. She is the closest thing America has, and probably will ever have, to an actual queen.

Obviously, “Sorry” needs to be talked about, as it spawned a witch hunt for the aforementioned “Becky” that swept the nation. It’s a very well done track that explores a more personal push, upsetting Bey’s usual formula of confessionals hidden in clever beats and powerful vocals. In most of her previous releases, the Queen Bee has managed to separate her music from her life, at least in the eyes of fans. With her new tactic of visual albums, however, she is using a far more confessional formula on top of some also excellent beats, which, so far, is working just fine.

The final standout track is “6 Inch”, featuring The Weeknd. A feminist song disguised with slick beats and the crooning of The Weeknd, this song talks about the appreciation of a woman, the hero of the story, who rules the club and is fierce in six inch heels, but is also at the same time very professional.

This song embraces the girls who aren’t only party, or only business, but can be both. Queen Bey uses the shoes mentioned in the title track to convey wealth and power in this anthem for powerful women. As one of the most successful of her eight new chart entries in the Top 40, this could go on to become a major hit for her, and it deserves to.

Of course, there are other tracks that are just as good but don’t stand out as much. “Sandcastles” is a ballad about a broken relationship that Beyonce can’t help but look back on fondly, because the good parts almost outweigh the bad. Almost.

“Freedom” is a stomping power anthem, clearly celebrating African-Americans. “Daddy Lessons” is a straight-up country song autobiography about her time in Texas with her father, and a gun. “Formation”, the song she performed at the Super Bowl, is a thing, and it’s a glorious thing, but it doesn’t need to be talked about. Every glowing word has already been said, every possible verbal accolade that can be given this early has been.

There is a running theme throughout Lemonade, and that’s pride. How proud she is to be black (“Freedom”), how proud she is to be a woman (“6 Inch”), and how proud she is to be a black woman (“Formation”).

She talks about how she’s got enough pride to leave him and still be okay in “Don’t Hurt Yourself” and “Sorry”, and in her ballads– no matter how heartbreaking they get– they never betray any sort of loss of pride. Mrs. Knowles-Carter has a right to be proud, though. She is the closest thing America has, and probably will ever have, to an actual queen.

Now, something this impactful was bound to have a little bit of resistance. Lemonade landed with a bang, despite not making a single sound for most of its journey. The message was one that ruffled the feathers of conservatives, people who confuse pride with racism, and those who confuse self-love for overconfidence. Even Jay-Z seemed to be unrightfully pissed, with the new announcement that he seems to be working on a clapback album towards Beyoncé herself.

Who would do that, and how?

Important questions, but ones that surely have no answers. We can all take comfort, however, in the fact that Bey is still on top of the world, she doesn’t need white republicans or Jay-Z. She just needs herself and her voice, and she can be an inspiration to millions.

Grade: A+/A