Rated R, Graded D.

The rocketship to superstardom seemed to be propelled by a mod haircut atop an islander's Frankenstein dome. Now, Rihanna is something like an icon. "Brilliant. Resilient. Fanmail - 27 million."

But, question existing: can the bitch sing?

Her voice is strange, Always Infinity pad thin, and flatter than a teenage Kim Kardashian's butt. It has a shaky quality along the lines of Amerie's or Mya's - two lovely ladies I supported and listened to, but knew would not succeed beyond a certain point. Not nearly enough strength in that voice to warrant such success.

Rihanna seems best suited to being a fixture. Something to look at and admire, but not to sport on your iPod. Her latest CD, Rated R, seems like nothing more than a sad attempt to finalize her image as an "R&B badass." I don't like hearing four-letter words coming out of her mouth. It sounds funny. And it feels funny. She's deleted the "Pon de Replay" Rihanna entirely.

"We don't play that shit/Nigga, we don't play, no/Everybody quiet when you did your dirt/Actin' like a bitch finna get you hurt" ("G4L")...what?

There are certainly some tracks that are danceable or blastable. I actually really like "Cold Case Love." But it's mostly the instrumentals that salvage each song's listenability.