Album Review: Nicki Minaj

"If you can't handle my worst, You ain't getting my best," says Nicki Minaj in Marilyn Monroe. As the hook fades out one can almost hear the groans of a generation of young men doomed to date women who think this way. It's a neat microcosm for this album though. On it we see moments where Minaj soars above almost any other rapper out. She sounds monstrous, hungry, slavering for the next beat to crush. At other times she's clearly angling for the next huge single to follow Superbass, the enormously successful post-script to her debut album.

The switch back and forth between dynamic emcee and B-grade Madonna clone is tangible. The former dominates the early stages of the album. Roman Holiday is gloriously disorganised: great raps, terrible English accents, and a brief rendition of Come All Ye Faithful. Come On A Cone is mixtape braggadocio par excellence. When's the last time you heard a woman threaten to "Put [her] dick in your face"? Then, all of a sudden, Starships – a Taio Cruz bite – drops and the album changes tack for the worse. Next is Pound The Alarm and the album's Taio Cruz song is followed by the album's Pitbull song. Somehow it only gets worse from there.

"I am the female Weezy," says Nicki at the end of Stupid Hoes. It's a revealing line. For an artist who burst onto the scene as a beacon of hope, messages like this one are a disappointment. We get a little of her best on this album, for sure, but we get a whole lot of Minaj's worst too.