A little more than a week after Beyoncé’s surprise release, we’re living in a post-"Lemonade" world. The lemon emoji has skyrocketed in popularity. Sales of actual lemonade are projected to get a boost.

The album is being hailed a great pop album, a powerful political statement and a tribute to black femininity. But, most of all, it’s considered authentic. What did Beyonce mean when she said ___? What is Beyoncé alluding to when she says ___?

The person you think of when you hear the name Beyoncé does not exist. She is a specifically constructed character designed to appeal to a certain audience. Look at the credits of "Lemonade" — the album was compiled by dozens of professionals. Then why does all credit go to Beyoncé?

Most people understand that a movie is the sum of many parts. There’s actors, writers, cinematographers, producers and a director; the success or failure of a film rarely has to do with any single individual working on the movie.

But for whatever reason, this separation doesn’t seem to come across in the world of music. Although the human being named Beyoncé Knowles is the executive producer and primary vocal talent in "Lemonade," she’s just a cog in the Queen Bey commercial music machine. An "Irreplaceable" cog, but a cog nonetheless.

Although I’m singling out Beyoncé, she is by no means the only musician to not write their own music. From Elvis to One Direction, the people singing the songs and selling the tickets are just the tip of the iceberg.

I don’t think it’s at all wrong to perform a song you didn’t write. Chris Pratt isn’t responsible for the terrible dialogue in "Jurassic World," and nobody blames him for it. Likewise, a performer’s value shouldn’t be conflated with their skill as a songwriter.

But it goes both ways. You can’t give credit to the pop artist for anything they do, because what they do isn’t their decision. Every lyric, beat and melody is fine-tuned to convey a specifically marketed message.

This is especially true when it comes to authenticity. The words you hear in a Beyoncé song aren’t hers. Taylor Swift’s lyrics don’t come straight from her diary. Even if a pop star makes a powerful statement with their music, the fact remains that a team of professionals engineered every aspect of it to be as commercially friendly as possible. Therefore, authenticity is compromised, if not impossible.

Pop music is a product first and foremost. That isn’t to say it can’t be authentic or genuine, but authenticity often doesn’t sell. If you want authenticity in music, you’re in luck — there are more original voices in music now than ever before.

For example, Jordaan Mason is a non-binary singer-songwriter with incredibly personal lyrics and music. It’s not music that’s going to be blasted over the radio, but the fact it isn’t commercially beholden keeps it authentic. Authentic music can’t do what pop music does, but that goes both ways.

Authentic pop music is like a healthy cheeseburger — it technically exists, but it’s a stretch to call it that. And maybe we should just keep our burgers unhealthy and leave the health to salads.