The Emancipation of Mimi

Mariah Carey
“The Emancipation of Mimi”
(Island)
3 Stars



I’m a grown ass man. So I probably shouldn’t enjoy Mariah Carey’s latest album, “The Emancipation of Mimi,” nearly as much as I do. Carey has made her career peddling sentimental pop to teenyboppers and watered down R&B to the adult contemporary set—no self-respecting man belongs to either of those categories. And yet, at this very moment, “Mimi” is blaring from my laptop speakers, and I can’t tear myself away.

I tell myself that each listen will be my last—so far I’ve had about 37 “last listens.” Every time that I press “play,” and the irresistible piano melody from “We Belong Together” (“Mimi’s” lead single) begins, I lose a little more respect for myself. But by the time the chorus comes around, I am so enraptured by the song’s exquisite pop-craft that not even the thought of my fading masculinity can stir me.

In some ways “Mimi” is manlier than previous Carey outings. Hip-hop impresario Jermaine Dupri produced the album’s chart-topping singles, including “We Belong Together.” Hip-hop is manly, right? It probably bears mentioning that Dupri is best known for his work with the pint-sized rap prodigy Lil’ Bow Wow. The kid is no Tupac, but he’s street, or at least pretends to be.

Snoop Dogg and Nelly also make guest appearances on the album. They are featured on the Neptunes produced club-bangers “Say Somethin’” and “To The Floor” respectively. There is no denying the masculinity of these guys—unless you consider Snoop’s recent bid for a guest spot on “Sesame Street” unmanly. And come to think of it, didn’t Nelly once rap about his affection for “manicured toes?”

That isn’t very gangsta, and it’s inaccurate too: toes are pedicured. It’s probably not a good sign that I know the difference.

What “Mimi” lacks in street credibility it makes up for in soul. One of the album’s funkier tracks is “Mine Again,” a collaboration between Carey and legendary neo-soul producer James Poysner. The track is structured around a plaintive Wurlitzer melody; a killer horn section provides harmonic counterpoint; high-hat snares keep a steady rhythm in the background, and Carey’s five-octave voice takes center stage. The lyrics are standard pop fare, but Carey tackles them with surprising conviction.

Another of “Mimi’s” standout songs, “Circles,” expands upon “Mine Again’s” soul aesthetic. The song beings with a driving electric piano riff; a pulsating bass line kicks in soon after; and a cadre of background singers harmonize nicely while Mariah tears into the lyrics like a latter-day Aretha Franklin.

I’d have nothing to be ashamed of if more of “Mimi’s” tracks were as authentically soulful as “Mine Again” and “Circles.” Unfortunately, a majority of the album’s tracks are irredeemably saccharine ballads. The worst offender in this respect is “Joy Ride,” an uninspired torch song in which Carey likens the pleasures of love to, surprise, a joy ride—not exactly the most potent of metaphors. Worse, Carey attempts to overshadow the track’s weak production with an excessively acrobatic vocal performance. At times it’s unclear whether she’s singing or just running through scales.

Luckily, “Mimi’s” treacly ballads don’t inhibit enjoyment of its Dupri-produced pop gems. “It’s Like That,” the follow-up single to “We Belong Together,” is a consummate club-banger: Dupri relies on little more than an Indian flute loop and an arrhythmic drum machine beat to craft an incredibly danceable track. The song’s beat is so hot that its occasional lapses into lyrical absurdity—at one point Carey opines, “these chickens is ash and I’m lotion”—are excusable.

All in all, “The Emancipation of Mimi” is a really enjoyable album, but if you’re a straight male, you’ll probably want to avoid buying it in your local record shop—the clerks will make fun of you. Better to steal it from your little sister’s collection. Or you can rip my copy—I feel your pain.



—Staff writer Bernard L. Parham can be reached at parham@fas.harvard.edu.