The Singles Jukebox

We weren’t going to cover this lot again, but charts gonna chart…

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[5.90]

Michelle Ofiwe: “Truffle Butter” is clearly the Pinkprint underdog to root for. With little promotion or boost from Minaj & co, it still managed to make a neat place for itself on mainstream charts and across airwaves everywhere — and why not? Trademark claps, a silly (or gross, depending on who you ask) namesake and a genius Maya Jane Coles sample create a fun club track not ruined even by Lil Wayne. The song could use a chorus and a stronger Minaj verse, but that doesn’t get in the way of delighting baddies everywhere (including yours truly) when it pops off.
[6]

Alfred Soto: Playing “Only” far more than I expected in December, I was ready for more surprises, the first of which is the judicious use of Maya Jane Coles’ 2010 house anthem “What They Say” as bedrock. The weak link, surprisingly, is Minaj herself, who may have “minted” this approach but raps like a two-headed coin. The idea of truffle butter and Drake together filled my soul with dread, but he and Wayne are tolerable until the latter decides to rap in his higher register. Which means I’ll keep playing “Only.”
[6]

Jonathan Bradley: The “Only” line-up reunites for the inverse of that song: just as atomized in execution but with everyone putting in a good day’s work. Not even Nicki stuns, and for rappers whose work is so closely interconnected there’s remarkably little chemistry between this trio, but proficiency is proficiency.
[7]

Crystal Leww: When was the last time Nicki Minaj made something explicitly bad? I’ve even come around to “Only” based on the strength of Nicki’s swagger and the hook celebrating “bad bitches only, independent bitches only,” despite who it’s delivered by. “Truffle Butter” is “Only” without the bomb hook but plus a Maya Jane Coles sample. Drake and Lil Wayne step up their game, too, especially Wayne who finally sounds like he cares about something for the first time in a long time.
[7]

Edward Okulicz: Remember when Nicki said that she was the female Weezy as an actual brag? Of course. I struggled to remember Nicki’s verse here nestled between a bored Drake and a comparatively-animated Wayne because amid the dross the latter actually has the most good lines.
[4]

Brad Shoup: A phrase like “truffle butter” serves its own umami; Drake plates it among five other, less-filling rhymes. You may as well just toss it out as a surprise, like Wayne. With a track as cool as Maya Jane Coles’ original, you’d think someone would feel the shuffle better. Maybe Nicki’s just tired of these YMCMB combos, and that dentist joke is sabotage.
[5]

Ian Mathers: I can only imagine Nicki still keeps these two around because there is no way either would ever outshine her (although really, who would?). It’s a good thing Nineteen85’s production is so lush and her verse is so good, because Drake oughta get his mouth washed out with soap for that stepsisters crack and Wayne has, uh, clearly seen better days. Better guests and this is an easy 9.
[6]

Micha Cavaseno: Drake with more of his Chris Bosh-like sinister power-moves in the 2014-2015 transition. OVO producer Nineteen85 emerges with a rehash of “The Motto” based off a tastefully translucent Maya Jane Coles sample. This approach is eerily similar to the charity conception of A$AP Rocky’s “Problem,” so the ascension of this song as a successful radio record despite never being selected among the rank and file of Nicki’s singles actually undermines all The Pinkprint stands for in establishing Nicki’s artistry once and for all. Given the turbulent status of the YMCMB, I have to question if this simple and plain posse cut is a Trojan horse for a certain Canadian who stays scheming.
[4]

Thomas Inskeep: This reminds me of nothing so much as Drake and Rihanna’s “Take Care,” which sampled Jamie xx’s remix of Gil Scott-Heron; here it’s can you fucking believe it Maya Jane Coles indirectly getting onto American radio. Drake and Minaj, as usual in these situations, acquit themselves finely: they’re both capable of making it sound so easy. Weezy feeds off their energy.
[7]

Luisa Lopez: What a terrifically creepy song. Each verse lights up its singer’s wicked limbs, laying parody on top of caricature and turning the unpalatable weirdness of title and idea into an explosion, sparse and mixed with a jumpy kind of horror. It feels more like Lil Wayne’s song than Nicki’s, which is unexpected. His verse runs on this unease, builds on it, topples over a gleeful mock-up of Minajisms until it suddenly ends. It’s the crux of a song that’s doing its hardest to make you cringe, and unlike the other two verses, it succeeds. 
[7]