Review: Janelle Monae’s Dirty Computer is a confident, inspirational coming-out party

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Dirty Computer

Janelle Monae

You have to give it to Janelle Monae. When she comes out, she comes out.

Is she bisexual? Is she pansexual? In Rolling Stone magazine last week, the pop super-heroine declared her sexual identity in the kind of bold, expletive-not-deleted terms not suitable for newspapers. Let’s just say Monae is feeling emancipated and giving exactly zero damns these days. Her new album Dirty Computer and accompanying 46-minute “emotion picture” video are being hailed as a celebration of black queer womanhood. “Pink, like the secrets you hide,” she sings on the single Pynk.

Her sexual confession arrives with an album that is sonically her most user-friendly yet. Dirty Computer is a confident work of poolside neo-soul, shag-carpet funk, confessional rap and party-starting pop. It has captured the music world’s imagination; the summer’s jam has arrived.

Monae’s word play pleases and intrigues. Her hometown, Kansas City, Kan., gets a shout-out and “We fem the future,” is declared. And everyone’s been googling “melanated” since the LP was released.

Monae sings about “random access memory” with a wink and a smile, and now the computer nerds think they have a shot with her. Maybe they do. Maybe everyone does. What exactly is pansexual?

Less sprawling and more sure-footed than the sci-fi rock and robo-R&B of 2013’s The Electric Lady, this follow-up finds Monae uninhibited but focused musically. Lyrical themes are proud, sexy and inspirational. Dirty Computer parties excellently, with Brian Wilson, Stevie Wonder, Grimes, Pharrell Williams and Zoe Kravitz on the guest list. And if Prince is not around in person, the late purple highness is there in spirit.

Monae’s own spirit is out-of-sight strong. The album-opening title track is a lovely beginning, with Beach Boy background vocals and a sweet groove. She sings about being broke inside, crashing slowly. Accept her for who she is, bugs included – she’s your dirty computer.

The straight-up pop of Crazy, Classic, Life finds Monae carefree. She wants to party hard, have sex in the swimming pool, break the rules. “We don’t need another ruler, we don’t need another fool,” she sings. “I’m not American’s nightmare, I’m the American cool – just let me live my life.”

The life of the singer-actress – she had roles in acclaimed films Hidden Figures and Moonlight – is rapped out proudly on Django Jane:

Momma was a G, she was cleanin’ hotels

Poppa was a driver, I was workin’ retail

Kept us in the back of the store

And now:

Box-office numbers, and they doin’ outstandin’

Runnin’ outta space in my damn bandwagon

Remember when they used to say I look too mannish?

Black girl magic, y’all can’t stand it

On the danceable Screwed, Monae uses that word every which way. “Everything is sex, except sex, which is power,” she sings, referencing scenes of bombs falling and sirens calling. “We’re all screwed,” she decides, “so let’s get screwed.”

Prince’s influence is most apparent on Make Me Feel, a Kiss-like number with a trebly disco guitar and a James Brown “good God” for good measure. Prince’s influence also shows up on Americans, an album-ending anthem in which Monae pledges allegiance to a country that must get better. She fights for gender and race equality, while asserting her saneness: “I’m not crazy, I’m American.”

Is Monae crazy? A little bit. Prince suggested that we all should be: “If the de-elevator brings you down, go crazy, punch a higher floor.” Monae was listening. Were you?