Retrospective Review: Nelly Furtado - 'Loose'

Back in 2006, when Victoria song-bird Nelly Furtado released the heavily Timbaland-produced Loose, the media went fucking bananas over Furtado’s drastic thrust into hip-hop-styled sexuality, especially because the Internet of the mid-2000s resembles its current sad state: an open cesspool of garbage bags who piss-moan about anything that doesn’t conform to their fedora-capped views of women.

When Loose’s second single “Promiscuous” started its 24-hour rotations across Canada, Furtado was immediately and notably one of the first Canadian artists to experience public slut-shaming. This is a complicated discussion because women in entertainment have always been slut-shamed. No, women everywhere have always been slut-shamed and it’s usually based on archaic, conservative double-standards that still permeate North American culture and MRA websites. The simple catalyst is the outdated ideology that women are whores or virgins, good or bad. Men can enjoy a masculine form of sexuality via unlimited conquest, but female sexuality outside of a male-profiting power structure means bullshit moralizing on the woman expressing it, by men and women alike. In this construction, it means there’s no room for women to be sexual for themselves nor is there room for female agency.

So when Furtado released Loose, shit hit the misogynistic fan. First of all, what kind of title was Loose? After two wholesome albums, Whoa Nelly! and Folklore, Loose was targeted as some kind of pro-slut super-whore manifesto. Even before the album dropped, criticism swirled around Furtado’s “sexy” promo photos. And this was 2006! Like … Despite the impressive list of established producers, the three years of craft in Los Angeles and Miami, collaboration with Pharrell, Lil Wayne, Swollen Members, K’naan, a Spanish-sung track and the goddamn-amazing Hall & Oates club-jam, “Maneater”, Furtado had to strongly defend her art to a public that refused to accept a woman’s embrace and celebration of her own sexuality. Her hard work and creative energy was reduced to her appearance on the album cover.

The media also focused on bullshit like the kind of “example” she was setting, the “tarting up” of a Canadian good-girl, romantic relationships between her and producers, her sexual orientation, her clothing, her “midriff” and all kinds of superficial, sexist crap that had nothing to do with her music, what her music meant or what strength it might give to other women struggling with the very same gender dichotomies and double-standards around sexuality that the album was trying to explore.

Reviewers (one who called her previous albums “hand-jobs”) were befuddled by this “sexed up dance record.” Can you name a dance-record that isn’t “sexed-up”? I recently watched Usher dry-humping a fan. Isn’t that “sexed up?” Isn’t that assault? For a history of how men exploit sexuality without criticism, see: everything. But a woman who ventured into a new genre and dared to grow as an artist? And with themes for mature audiences presented in unique, refreshing (if maybe predictable) ways? Furtado’s transition from radio-friendly folk-pop to working with world-class rap producers on a cohesively themed hip-hop dance-album seemed, more than anything, cool as fuck! On top of that, as Furtado said herself, this album was about becoming a woman. And women are confident. And confidence is sexy.

The threat inherent in Furtado’s album – in her desire to be herself, and portray herself as she wished to be seen – was that women could actually own their sexuality, that female sexuality exists outside of male gratification and that men don’t have power to grant it. Then they said, think of the children! Shield them from the midriffs! It’s embarrassing to think that this kind of social puritanism existed in 2006, and that it still exists. And yet, women continue to express sexuality in their own artistic ways. 2014 was the year of big beautiful asses! I mean, looking back, Loose isn’t even that sexually gratuitous.

But some MRA douche might ask, did Furtado help contribute to a hyper sexualized culture in which Miley Cyrus could grind on a gross old man, a culture in which women are whores with abandon but now they’re socially empowered to do so? Nope. And that’s a dumb fucking question. Just tuck your penis in and treat artists as artists, and maybe explore gender-identity if it’s relevant. It’s that simple.

The great flip-side is that Loose was a huge commercial success around the world, especially in countries that have strong dance and electronic scenes. It was a banger, even though Canadian media threw conservative shade at Furtado, which really only exposed the gender biases of reporters in that media.

Overall, Loose had some inconsistent moments but it was carefully well-produced, showed a range of creative experimentation for both Furtado and Timbaland, had feminine sexual agency, a dominant female-favoured perspective and most of all, it was trend-oriented pop music. Timbaland shouldn’t go uncredited. In “Promiscuous,” she teases him and panders to slutty, coquettish stereotypes. But it’s funny since some of the power that comes from using sexuality is the recognition that it’s being used at all. And Timbo and Furtado don’t actually fuck in the song. It’s a verbal dance; it’s a dance album.

Thoroughly examined, Loose should have been way more risqué for all that criticism. I can’t even find a way to justify it. The reaction was a critical example of unfair public moralizing and silencing of female artistry. She had already addressed this phenomenon in her 2003 hit, “Powerless.” On Loose, she just got louder with an alternative, non-traditional voice and image for women to prioritize themselves.

Adria Young is a writer living in Halifax - @adriayoung