Ciara: Fantasy Ride

Remember when De La Soul and Tribe Called Quest used to dis the shit outta R&B? Not on some childish hater shit, just on some self-pride b-boy shit? Those were the days. The vibes and stuff of modern music was much more raw and uncut. Today, it’s all one crazy ass unbelievable blur. Not three minutes into the electro-ballad that comprises the intro of Fantasy Ride, Ciara busts a rap that wouldn’t sound surprising out of Eve’s mouth. This super-kinky viciousness continues across the disc, and it’s not necessarily nauseating like that atrocious Wreckz-n-Effect’s rap/R&B radio fodder came across as (time travel with me, people). But what rap and R&B have merged into at the end of the new millenium would confuse even the most cutting egde music producer, with the nebulous-yet-structured definitions of each mutating closer each year. On this album, rappers are singing on R&B beats, while singers are rapping on rap beats. You would have been insane to attempt this in the early 90′s. But Ciara’s Fantasy Ride, even ten years from now, will probably sound quite futuristic, with its sinful synths and many slick-ass little tricks. Its state of the art, but it’s also a symptom of the state of the art, word to Kanye Omari West.

Let’s get into the album, shall we? For real, some artists take their alter-alteregos seriously, don’t they? On album three, the brutal-rumor-wrecking Ciara gathers a Justice League of guests for the fantasy ride of “Super C,” Ciara’s “aggressive persona” to take us on said Fantasy Ride, which just essentially means a lot of psychedelic sound and fury and the occasional exciting idea, while seducing our senses with song title suggestions like “Pucker Up” and “Keep Dancin’ On Me.” Notably fiercer than Beyonce’s Sacha, even her liner notes are hero-licious. But how adventurous is this fantasy ride, really? Justin “I Ride For T.I.P.” Timberlake straps up for some safe “Love Sex Magic,” which feels more like foreplay than fornication.

Ciara gets over-dramatic and operatic on “High Price,” a ridiculous robo-capitalist anthem as annoying as it is admirable, that Ludacris finds a way to salvage. Someone is going to love that song. Just hope you don’t have a bedroom next to them. Elsewhere, “Turntables” is a colorfully catchy guilty little pleasure, but R&B public enemy #1 Chris Brown is her partner in crime on the record. When’s his trial against Rihanna again? Either way, Young Jeezy‘s disgustingly cheesy chorus on the dainty little ditty “Never Ever” is a sonic crime to the ear. Did Ciara pay him for that? I hope she lost a bet to him to let that appear here.

Other guests who appear are future school producers Danjahandz, Darkchild, newcomer “Tricky” Stewart and The Y’s (remember the name: they might go big) create a superheroine-worthy soundscape for Super C to soar. “G is For Girl” is impressively conceptual braggadocio on some E’d up B-girl shit, but beyond that, can auto-tune please die now? Its fantasy ride is over, word to Shawn Corey Carter.

74/100

“Ciara To The Stage”

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“G is For Girl (A-Z)”

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“Turntables” (featuring Chris Brown)

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