Eight years. Two kids. One legendary Super Bowl spectacle. And approximately 17,000 fan theories about where the hell Rihanna’s ninth album has been hiding. But in a new Harper’s Bazaar interview, the artist formerly known as the Queen of Drop Culture finally broke her silence—and her message is clear: R9 isn’t just coming. It’s coming to burn down everything you thought you knew about her.
Let’s start by torching the biggest rumor first: No, it’s not a reggae album. “Way off!” Rihanna laughed, dismissing years of speculation. “There’s no genre now. That’s why I waited.” For a star who’s spent her career shape-shifting from dancehall rebel (Good Girl Gone Bad) to tortured art-pop sphinx (Anti), she’s now doubling down on the chaos. “Every time I tried [to make the album], I was like, ‘This isn’t me anymore,’” she admitted. “I have to show them the worth in the wait.”
And what a wait it’s been. Since Anti dropped in 2016, Rihanna’s empire expanded into billion-dollar beauty lines, luxury fashion, and motherhood—all while fans clung to breadcrumbs like her Wakanda Forever ballads and that viral 2023 studio photo that broke the internet harder than “Work.” But as she told Bazaar, the delay isn’t procrastination—it’s perfectionism. “I cannot put up anything mediocre,” she declared. “After waiting eight years, you might as well just wait some more.”
If you’re expecting another “Umbrella”-sized banger for the algorithm gods, think smaller. Way smaller. “It’s not going to be commercial or radio digestible,” Rihanna warned. “It’s going to be where my artistry deserves to be right now.” Translation: She’s done chasing trends. This is the sound of an iconoclast who’s spent nearly a decade marinating in motherhood, moguldom, and the quiet fury of knowing she’s outgrown every box the industry built for her.
“I’ve been in the studio the whole eight years. But it didn’t hit me,” she confessed, comparing the process to “searching” for a version of herself that could match her evolution. Now, she insists, she’s “cracked it”—crafting a project that “digs right into where I need to be.” For context, this is the same woman who once described Anti as “the album I needed to make to sleep at night.” Buckle up.
Rihanna’s new creative fuel? Her sons, RZA and Riot, who’ve reshaped her relationship with time. “When I’m in the studio, I know that my time away from my kids is to blossom something that hasn’t been watered in eight years,” she said. Parenthood, it seems, has sharpened her focus—and her defiance. “I know it’s not going to be anything that anybody expects,” she teased, with the calm of someone who’s already won the game.
And let’s not forget: Rihanna doesn’t need music anymore. She’s got Fenty Everything. Which means R9 isn’t a comeback—it’s a flex. A middle finger to the idea that artists must feed the content beast or fade away. “This body needs to come out,” she said, “and I’m ready to go there.”
For all her forward motion, Rihanna did spare a moment to reflect on the past—specifically, Anti, the left-field masterpiece that redefined her career. “It’s the one album I can listen to top to bottom with no shame,” she said. “It’s like it’s not me singing it.” That dissociation speaks volumes. Anti was her rebirth; R9 might just be her ascension.
So when’s it dropping? Your guess is as good as hers. But if there’s one thing Rihanna’s mastered (besides launching 10/10 lip glosses), it’s the art of the cliffhanger. “I feel really optimistic,” she shrugged. And really, after eight years of blue balls from pop’s ultimate tease, optimism is all we’ve got left.
Until then, revisit Anti. Stream “Lift Me Up.” Stare at the sky. And remember: Rihanna’s always been a galaxy ahead of us—we’re just waiting for the rest of the universe to catch up.
