Rihanna is my kind of singles artist. Not that all of her singles have been great, but each one has had a strong hook to latch onto, and I don't just mean a catchy musical riff, but an angle—something to think about when it's off the air. "S.O.S." (rating: 3.0) employed the flashiest of gimmicks with its "Tainted Love" sample, and the first 20 seconds were undeniably the most exciting first 20 seconds you couldn't escape from last summer—an excitement captured perfectly when it whizzed by in an episode of CSI: NY seemingly minutes after the song was released.
"Unfaithful" (4.0), the most soap-operatic ballad to touch down on urban radio in ages, concluded with the singer fantasizing about putting a bullet through her man's skull—not to relieve her pain, but his, a rather startling twist in the context of contemporary chart-pop. All of which merely underscores why Rihanna's third single this year, "We Ride" (1.5) is such a disappointment: pleasant, well-crafted, instantly forgettable. The still-in-her-teens vocalist exhibits commendable musical restraint here, but clearly that's a slippery slope: when "We Ride" ends, the song really is over. For blank stares, I prefer Cassie's icy, minimalist "Me & U" (3.0).
Continuing to exhibit anything but musical restraint, Beyoncé unleashes her most fierce verbal assault to date on "Ring The Alarm" (1.5). It's tempting to compare this spazz-out to Kelis's 1999 barnburner, "Caught Out There" (aka the I-HATE-YOU-SO-MUCH-RIGHT-NOW song), but whereas Beyoncé recites her riot act through an arty distortion box (because nothing signifies anger like a Nine Inch Nails tribute?), Kelis's screamfest was something more like inflamed minimalism; all her "effects" were produced internally. Which is perhaps why "Caught Out There" continues to be a compelling experience six years later and why "Ring the Alarm," after the sixth or seventh listen, contains all the aesthetic appeal of a cutting-floor tantrum from America's Next Top Model.
Not that I have anything against crass, shouty pop (or skinny, tantrum-throwing models), mind you—far from it—and filling that particular void this month, with the rock 'n' roll chorus of the year, is Fergie's "London Bridge" (4.0). The Black Eyed Peas' leading lady, all dressed up just like a Union Jack, convincingly bulldozes her way through Def Leppard Hysteria territory, leaving her B.E.P. brethren (not to mention the rest of us suckers) in the dust. If the wince-worthy follow-up, "Fergalicious" (1.0) is anything to judge by, "London Bridge" is clearly a fluke—all the more reason to cherish the moment while it lasts (hint: Don't blink twice).
Bonus Beats: "Put Your Money Where Your Mouth Is" by Jet (3.0) is no less crass than "London Bridge" and a good deal more clichéd—a cowbell-heavy, third-rate Aerosmith rocker ("She goes down like a setting sun") that veers nerve-wrackingly close to Lenny Kravitz's neighbourhood. Some things in life are hard to explain: Not only do I not despise this, I'm actually kind of, um, digging it. ... Beck's "Nausea" (1.5), a retread of former glories (i.e., "New Pollution") is hilarious in an '80s-Dylan kind of way: How else to explain staging your public resurrection with what amounts to a half-formed demo? Not even some lively, jangling percussion dancing around the edges can save this particular dog. ... Jessica Simpson's "A Public Affair" (3.0) is high-on-the-humidex dance-pop: anonymous, perky, sweetly florid. "Tonight the world is nonexistent" is a really odd lyric if you take two seconds to think about it (let me guess: The disco apocalypse begins here?). ... Coming from a not-dissimilar place, though even better, is Paris Hilton's "Nothing in this World" (3.5), which, last I checked was roaring up the charts, from No. 93 all the way to No. 91. Hilton's debut single, "Stars Are Blind" (2.0) was fairly la-di-da to my ears, but "Nothing" is post-disco with real sizzle and bite. It certainly hits a good deal harder than the smarmy disco revivalism preached by Scissor Sisters in "I Don't Feel Like Dancin'" (1.0); it's not the Bee Gees' fault, honest. ... Hands up anyone who remembers T'Pau's "Heart and Soul," a Top 5 hit in 1987? If, like me, you've never shaken that synthetic epic power ballad from your system, rush thee to the nearest iTunes outlet and shell out 99 cents for JoJo's brilliant teen-pop anthem, "Too Little Too Late" (4.0). Peaking at No. 3 on Billboard, JoJo just narrowly missed becoming the first artist born in the '90s to score a Number 1 hit. In other words, when T'Pau were storming the charts, she was minus-three years old.