by Rihanna
(Def Jam)
Is it possible to hear this song as just a song? Not right now; probably not for a good while. It's a public event, a capital-S Statement, a sonic headline—all in a way it couldn't possibly have been before February 8, the night of the 51st Grammy Awards. Rihanna was scheduled to perform. She cancelled, and everybody found out why the next day.
The fact of Rihanna's beating at the hands of Chris Brown made its own instant legend—a tragedy, pure and simple, one of the ugliest acts of violence ever recorded in the entertainment world. This is the kind of thing publicists used to work 24/7 to cover up—they still do, but media has gotten a lot more virulent. Horrible as the image of Rihanna's bruised face was, seeing it brought it home: This is real. This really happens to people, even famous ones.
It's tempting not to bother deriding Brown anymore, since everybody's already done it a bunch, but you know, why not? The fact that he's even attempting a comeback, and that someone is letting him try, is evidence that people have no fucking standards at all anymore. The sweater-vest and bow tie he wore on Larry King Live deserve their own lit-up display in the Asshole Hall of Fame. His new album cover is the most laughably pathetic music-related visual of 2009—The Matrix meets MC Skat Kat and crew on the SBK Records roster, circa 1991. I hope he bombs and never comes back.
It's impossible to listen to "Russian Roulette" and not see that hospital portrait in your head. That's clearly one of its aims—stars don't make moves like this by accident. And its context gives the song a power it wouldn't have claimed on its own. "You can see my heart beating/You can see it through my chest/I'm terrified but I'm not leaving/Know that I must pass this test"—is there any way of hearing these lines, which wouldn't get past the copy desk at Harlequin publishing, and not flashing on what we already know? It's a naked sympathy play, no doubt. The introductory guitar is like an aural cringe. The gunshot sound effect that dots it is unconvincing. The arrangement is nothing. Little of it matters, but by sad default, this piece of chintziness is one of the most powerful records of the year. 
