Beyoncé

There is a disease that’s running rampant in hip-hop and R&B, a disease that can’t be cured by crunk juice or codeine-infused Kool-Aid: it’s a psychological identity crisis characterized by the hackneyed struggle between ghetto hustler and superstar. A disorder once quarantined to gangster rap—see case studies such as T.I.’s “T.I. vs. T.I.P” and Cassidy’s “Split Personality”—it has infected one of R&B’s most beloved starlets. Now we can add Beyoncé to that ever-expanding list of schizophrenic artists.

With the release of “I am... Sasha Fierce,” Beyoncé Knowles proclaims her personality disorder to the masses in a two-disc format. The first disc is “I am,” while the second is the edgier, self-righteous club-hopper “Sasha Fierce.”

Similar to “Dangerously in Love” and “B’Day,” the album is a balance of up-tempo club jams and slow ballads that showcase her vocal ability. In a desperate attempt at creativity, Beyoncé takes the material for one disc and splits it between two. By separating the ballads from the kick- and clap-laden raps, the album supposedly gives you a chance to get to know “the real Beyoncé.” But after listening to both discs I’d rather get to know Sasha Fierce.

First disc “I am”—complete with orchestral love songs and emotional, echoic ballads—can only be described as continuous. It’s hard to tell where one song ends and another begins. The lack of melodic variation gives rise to one long, epic complaint on the shortcomings of men. The disc is enticing in that the first three songs—“If I Were a Boy,”” Halo,” and “Disappear”—show the Beyoncé we all know and love. The trio—characterized by catchy hooks, a twilight synthesizer and an up-tempo clap beat—build up expectations that are flattened by the latter part of the disc. It’s not that the songs are bad or even remotely cacophonous; it’s that we expect more from one of the world’s most electrifying performers.

Knowles saves one song from getting lost: an astounding vocal arrangement on “Ave Maria.” The operatic song bolsters respect for her singing chops and perhaps gives some insight into “the real Beyoncé” hiding beneath the raunchy club beats and one-line choruses.

Luckily for Knowles, she has an alter ego to pick up the slack. Sasha Fierce is the Beyoncé we’ve grown accustomed to—the one with fast, hi-hat-loaded dance beats and lyrics that sacrifice sensibility for rhythmic flow. Touting producers like Jim Jonsin, Sean Garrett, and Wayne Wilkins, “Sasha Fierce” is a compilation of back-to-back hits, all of which are worthy of radio play.

With lines like “I be on the hotline, like err’day / Makin’ sure the DJ know what I want him to play,” Knowles drops the gimmicky metaphors of the first disc and gives us what we want: infectious hooks to bump on our stereos.

Beyoncé or Sasha (or whatever you want to call her) takes a page from Rihanna’s playbook, with repetitive “Ehs” and “Ohs” appearing on most tracks on the disc. Although the beats possess B’s signature style, the rapid vocals have a rap-like flow—a cross between T.I. and the old Destiny’s Child feminist shout-outs.

The album is two-faced. One disc fulfills most expectations, while the other offers something old in a condensed format. By separating the album onto two discs, Beyoncé has helped me realize that maybe “the real Beyoncé” isn’t for me. By combining ballads and club bangers on her previous albums, the disingenuous love songs could hide behind the bass of her number one hits. Now those songs have nowhere to hide and are wide open for scrutiny.