Judging An Album By Its Cover: Persona by Queen Latifah

They say you should never judge a book by its cover.  Because we respect our elders, we take that antiquated idea to heart.  But notice, it mentions nothing about music.  Therefore, we reserve the right to judge any and every album in the history of recorded music based solely on the images that inhabit that album’s cover.  Today, we pass judgment on Queen Latifah’s Persona.

Adam: Man, Mary J. Blige got fat.  She looks weird standing there to the left of all those lesbians.

Fortey: Don’t be an idiot, that’s not Mary J. Blige.  That’s Queer Latifah, Queen Latifah’s aggressive lesbian R&B singer/dominatrix persona.

Adam: Fine, but I’m fairly certain that’s the chick from the Yeah Yeah Yeahs on the right.

Fortey: That’s Tina Turner.

Adam: You mean like her Tina Turner persona?

Fortey: No, it’s Tina Turner.  She’s singing with one leg up in the air, that’s how I know.

Luis: That’s an after effect of the classic Ike Turner beating of June 7th, 1968.

Adam: Whoa, let’s keep it classy here!

Luis: The pinkish hue of the album cover leads me to believe the entire thing was recorded within her intestinal tract.  It looks like an R&B colonoscopy.

Adam: That’s better.

Luis: I hear the reverb off the benign sphincter cysts adds a really robust quality to the music.  It takes a special colon to produce sounds like that.  This concept would never work in Beyonce’s colon.

Fortey: I would!

Adam: No diggity!

Fortey: Hey, speaking of the early-90’s, when looking at this album cover one can’t help but get swept up in the Queen’s funky-fresh style.  The way she’s rocking those five distinct personalities puts that Garth Brooks/Chris Gaines horseshit to shame.  It’s like that plus three.  Literally!

Adam: Agreed.  But I think the message here is clear.  At the end of the day, the persona that digs chicks is in charge.  That’s why she’s out front dressed like Richard Gere from An Officer and a Gentleman.

Luis: I think she looks more like Louis Gossett Jr.

Fortey: Because she’s black?

Luis: Yeah, it’s funny because it’s racist.  Can we get back to talking about colons?

Adam: Please!

Luis: You know what this album cover says to me?  “I was the black chick in Barbershop 2: Back In Business.”

Adam: I’m pretty sure there were several black chicks in that movie.  And what the hell does that have to do with colons?

Luis: That movie was the shit!

Adam: Sorry I asked.

Luis: I have a confession.

Fortey: Oh dear.

Luis: I actually listened to some of this album.

Adam: My word, you are certainly dedicated to your job.

Fortey: My word?  You are certainly dedicated to being a queer.

Luis: There’s a song called “These Bitches In My Head Finna Get a Ass Whoopin’”.  It’s awesome.

Adam: There’s no way that’s true.  And there’s no way I could look it up and tell if you’re lying.  The technology has yet to be invented.  I usually call the library to verify facts and stuff.  No time right now, so proceed, I guess.

Luis: It’s got a really jaunty beat that is offset by primordial rhythm screaming by none other than Yugoslavia’s own Belbog Gajdusek. The chorus is sick. “These other me’s gotta get to dying…I’ll make it so.” Then it’s this big cacophony of Queen Latifah voices all singing different songs by Kajagoogoo: one in Spanish, one with the usage of a mega-phone, one with a purposefully terrible Scottish affectation, one made up entirely of the word “cunt,” and one that is sung via tears hitting a goat’s hooves.

Fortey: I’m pretty sure that’s a Bjork song.

Luis: Shit, you’re right.

Adam: I’m pretty sure she has some röck döts in her name.

Fortey: Pröbably.  But let’s get back on track.  Queefah had a breast reduction.

Luis: Queefah?

Fortey: Word.  That’s what her friends call her.  It’s like “queen” and “Latifah” combined.  Queefah.  It’s a time saver.

Adam: You were saying something about boobs, yeah?

Fortey: Yeah.  This album cover is clearly pre-breast reduction.  Each of these decuple boobs is capable of crushing a half full can of Fresca and an entire stack of Pringles in one fell swoop.

Adam: No way is decuple a real word.

Fortey: It is.

Adam: Fück.

Fortey: Suck it!  But aren’t we supposed to be talking about the album?  It has nothing to do with potatoes.  I’m sure of that.

Adam: Is it about that Matrix-y trash bag she’s wearing second from the left?  Because that’s fucking awesome.

Fortey: Nay.  It’s about the aforementioned Queer Latifah.  It’s about Princess Latifah, who you mistakenly interpreted as some character from the Matrix, even though she’s not nearly nimble enough to dodge stop-motion bullets.  It’s about King Latifah, the Navy uniform garbed frontman.  It’s about June Latifah, the happy housewife who sings while she scrubs here families’ unmentionables over a washboard.  It’s about Tina Turner, who is Tina Turner.  And finally, it’s about Queefah’s ability to change clothes at the drop of a dime.  It’s a revelation.

Luis: And all those personalities come together to say, in unison, “this album is so awesome we just blew our collective assholes out!”

Adam: Wow.  More shit jokes.  In a Queen Latifah album review.  I’m going to bëd.