Every now and then, when I’m searching for something other than NPR to listen to and can’t muster the energy to connect my phone to its auxiliary cord, I find myself turning the dial of the pre-programmed radio stations I’ve set in anticipation of being stuck in such a circumstance. Weeks ago, I found myself in this very familiar state; however, this time, a freshly popular song made its way across the airwaves and through the speakers of my car.
As I listened openly to the vintage, bluesy intro penetrate the vehicle’s silence, I couldn’t help but be struck that such a quality sound was emanating from a Top 100 station. (I even did a quick check to make sure I hadn’t accidently turned to local alternative station, 91.3 The Summit). Nonetheless, once I heard the sultry voice of the vocalist join the foreground, I immediately identified the source as the one and only, Rihanna.
While on one hand not at all surprised by the powerful vocals being belted out by the singer, on the other I found myself increasingly captivated by the versatility of “Love On The Brain.” Rihanna manages to introduce the trademark edginess she rose to fame with to a melody marked by nostalgic old-school soul, and triumphs every well-placed voice inflection along the way.
It’s no wonder, then, that I instantly moved to turn up the volume and sang along to lyrics I pretended to know by heart. The raspy vocal quality behind Rihanna’s performance suitably sets the backdrop for what is a clear heartbreak ballad. She sings that she is “tired of being played like a violin,” and implores her lover to “Don’t quit loving me / Just start loving me.” As I nodded my head to the tune of the track and listened on in appreciation, there built an intensity in both sound and meaning as the chorus approached.
Rihanna cries that she is “fist-fighting with fire / Just to get close to you,” and that she would ultimately “run for miles just to get a taste” of her partner’s affection. Following this, she concludes that “It must be love on the brain / That’s got me feeling this way.”
Up to this point in my first listen of the song, I must admit that I willingly overlooked certain lyrical phrases that would otherwise raise major red flags were I not so engrossed in the music itself. For instance, in the first verse Rihanna sings lines in which she “tried to buy your pretty heart / but the price was too high,” and that state “You love when I fall apart / So you can put me together and throw me against the wall.” Clearly, these lines hint at a relationship based upon the dominance of one partner over the other, with little concern for mutual respect. In hindsight, these words should have prepared me for what I discovered consisted of the later half of the song’s chorus.
Once she finishes describing “love” to be what’s “got me feeling this way,” Rihanna then goes on to say of this love that “It beats me black and blue / But it f*cks me so good / And I cant get enough.”
Needless to say, the pleasant and entertaining atmosphere I had earlier found myself in was shattered.
The disruptive awareness of such distressing language was almost instantaneous, and I nearly turned the song off altogether. Still, I paused my actions and forced myself to listen on, only to find a reaffirmation of the volatile relationship at the center of this song. Rihanna does this by concluding:
Must be love on the brain,
And it keeps cursing my name.
No matter what I do,
I’m no good without you,
And I can’t get enough (Chorus)
Evidently, these lyrics make the case for ignoring the detrimental qualities of abusive relationships, and instead gloss over them as though explosiveness is natural and right.
As someone who experienced a very public display of relationship violence, Rihanna of all people should be sensitive to comparisons of love and cruelty. Being sympathetic to the experiences of both your audience and yourself does not equate to ignoring the issue, and so Rihanna’s explicit treatment of love as brutality seems to only set women and herself back in understanding self-worth.
The implication of how these words can affect young female listeners is what shakes me most at my core, and upon hearing this dismissal of domestic abuse, I could not help but to be repulsed by the song as a whole. Rihanna has thousands, if not millions, of young women who listen to her music and idolize her every move; she is, after all, a celebrity. So it deeply troubles me when someone so prominent, and who has such a scope of influence, explicitly chooses to create a form of art which will push it’s viewer to seek comfort in aggression.
“Love On The Brain” has the power to deceptively draw in an audience that thinks it is experiencing nothing more than a catchy, soulful love ballad while actually normalizing the damaging aspects of abusive relationships. Initially, even I found myself in the trap of what captivating pop culture can blind us to. Still, it is important for us as consumers to be wary of these deceptions, and demand of our artists to think more critically about the lasting implications of what their work represents. When it comes to the nature of young women understanding that their value should never be sacrificed in any relationship, I am willing to fight against any inclination to enjoy something simply because it is “popular.”
Rihanna, we demand that you do better. Show us that love can be fulfilling without being degrading, and the ways in which women can live without compromising their worth. You have the musical talent, now get to work.
Listen for yourself here: