Destiny Fulfilled

Has Jay-Z really broken Beyoncé? Her inherent bootyliciousness notwithstanding, there was often a vague strain of female empowerment running through Destiny’s Child’s slinky R&B. No more. On Destiny Fulfilled, Beyoncé, Kelly Rowland, and Michelle Williams are jonesing for street urchins, promising to wait on them hand and foot, then begging them not to leave. The few genuine moments of soulful defiance feel like aberrations coming on the heels of subjugated coos like “I’ll keep my figure right/When you come home late/Tap me on the shoulder/I’ll roll over/I’m here to serve you.” Even a tune called “Free” isn’t the sassy declaration of independence you might expect—it’s meek, matter-of-fact, and overridingly dull. There are some highlights—Rodney Jerkins fleet-footed production makes “Lose My Breath” an undeniable ass-shaker—but most of the music here matches the lyrics step for tepid, nonthreatening step.