To say Rihanna has a one track mind would be an unfair understatement. She's far more complicated than that. On Talk That Talk she professes she's with the "da one," but she's actually been looking for you her whole life (the problem is she "never see[s] you out"); she "wants love," but she also wants to "make you [her] bitch." Boiled down, she admits she's really just "drunk on love."
Listen, Rihanna, honey, you should make up your mind about what kind of guy you're looking for. If you're "looking for love," like you say, then you might want to think twice about telling all the boys that though "it's not even [your] birthday," they can "lick the icing off" your "cake/cake/cake." Mr. Right might have reservations about attending that party (he'll wonder exactly how many boys have "put their name on it"). I know better than to feel bad about saying this, because you'll probably just reply, "suck my cockiness, lick my persuasion."
I tell myself this is the kind of music you have to listen to when you're just too drunk to care. You know, just give me a stiff drink and a beat so I can dance while rubbing up against strangers. What are we listening to? Beyonce? ABBA? Whatever, just dance, baby. But, there are moments on this album that would kill my buzz no matter how wasted I was. For example, Jay-Z interjects on "Talk That Talk" to inform us that some girl "gotta pee." Also, listen to Gaga's "LoveGame" before "Red Lipstick" and tell me "Let me take a hit/while you sit and rush" isnt a complete and total rip-off of "I wanna take a ride on your disco stick." Blatant rip-offs are usually a buzz kill.
I listened to this album while on the treadmill, because I figured what better music than this to make a hamster wheel seem alright? It turns out I was right to do so; the beats did indeed keep me pumped (partially with anger) to the last painful moments of the interval setting. I am genuinely upset that I probably wont be able to listen to The XX ever again after hearing "Intro" sampled on "Drunk On Love."
Since middle-schoolers are likely the ones buying this album in droves, I'm hoping they think "I'm gonna do it, do it, 'til you can't take no more/'til my lipstick ain't up on my face no more" means a nice hearty make-out session. (For us adults, that doesn't sound that wild anyway. After all, lipstick wears off pretty fast.)
Overall, if you agree that "we all want the same thing," and like to fancy yourself a "reb'l fleur" while running on your hamster wheel (metaphor intended), then this is the album for you.
[Ed. Note: Pretty sure everything here is just filler to sell expensive copies of "We Found Love," like it's the nineties or something and there is no iTunes. Cahm ahn!