Lizzo – Bitch
Look at that cover. There’s Lizzo standing tall and proud as the middle finger of a “fuck you” salute. Alright, she’s facing the wrong way, so she’s not totally in the face of the recipient, but there’s no denying she’s in triumphant mood. Maybe she’s about to moon whoever’s pissed her off as some kind of double whammy.
Now on to her fifth album, Lizzo is, apparently, in fight mode. The central figure in flipping the bird and naming her album Bitch in an attempt at reclaiming a derogatory term and repurposing it as one of strength, confidence and character.
You would expect, then, that this would be an album going straight for the jugular with fire in its heart. When Don’t Make Me Love U arrived as a taster for the album, it seemed to be stuck in an 80s hairspray hell. There’s no disputing it has the sound of a heavily produced pop classic; the problem is, it’s really two stuck together – Bon Jovi‘s Livin’ On A Prayer and Tina Turner‘s The Best. So far, so derivative, but the real problem is wrapped up in the conviction with which she delivers lines like “don’t you bullshit me, baby”. It should be a pained, angry line, but it’s far from it.
The declaration of bitchness that is Bitch feels vulnerable rather than filled with relentless drive. Lifting the chorus from Meredith Brooks‘ Bitch, it lacks inspiration. She tweaks the payoff to the chorus, stating that she’s “a mess, a queen, and everything between”, which pretty much points to the problem of this album. When Lizzo was ruling the earth with Cuz I Love You, there was a sense of direction; it was rough at the edges and there was a massive dollop of sass running throughout. There was a relentless drive to it. This time around, she’s everything between, and it’s too much ground to cover.
The album kicks off with A Toast, a piano-led ballad backed by a full orchestra on standby, that allows Lizzo to bemoan recent troubles. She calls out bitches, claims to be a bad bitch herself, and then states that “she has feelings too”. As an opening statement, it’s a little confused and self-pitying. Not the kind of thing you’d expect from someone claiming to be “100% that bitch”.
Happy 2 Be picks up the pace musically and starts off as an exploration of depression and a thank you for the healing effect of a relationship. However, the song ultimately places so much emotional weight on its central romance that gratitude begins to feel closer to dependency. The over-produced, post-punk drive of She Stole My Man finds a manic Lizzo obsessing over some bloke on the internet and building a vitriolic hatred towards his girlfriend. Her closing statement of “I’m over it, whatever” is far from convincing. It just feels too lightweight. On the skiffle of Too Nice, she sums up a one-way friendship. She’s picking up all the bar tabs and getting ignored, but rather than have a moment of real realisation and self-empowerment, she just settles scores with bitchy comments. Probably not the bitch that the album title hoped to encapsulate.
There are a few highlights amongst the muck-throwing and genre-hopping. The 60s soul of Whose Hair Is This? finds Lizzo in detective mode, throwing accusations around over a rogue hair. It’s delivered with real skill and beautiful vocal dexterity that finds her in her sweet spot. The party vibe of Sexy Ladies heads back to the positivity and support of a few years ago. It doesn’t quite land with the same force, but it’s good to have that Lizzo back for a short while. The title of That GRRRL alludes to the ‘90s feminist art movement Riot Grrrl and explores self-worth and body positivity over a swaggering backbeat. It’s the closest she gets to real attitude. The indie jangle of closing track Goodmorning! comes across like a self-help tape for the terminally hungover and needy, but at least has a proper spring in its step.
There are occasional glimpses of what made Lizzo so great just a few years ago, but Bitch continually falls flat. When she remembers what a great vocalist, musician and performer she is, her talent shines through. When she’s settling scores, not so much. If she’d explored those feelings of hurt and transformed them into something positive, this could have been a very different and genuinely inspirational album. Sadly, the anger at the heart of the album doesn’t go anywhere, it just keeps circling. As it stands, Bitch may or may not be the right title for it.
