Fefe Dobson's Joy is My Apathy

I miss there being huge comebacks in the music industry. Sure, there's the typical story of the legend who made a clunker of an album and whose commercial success fell in correlation to their age rising (or the veteran who takes time off to live, love, and learn only to pick right back up where they left off), but very rarely do we hear about an artist who didn't sell a lot of records the first time around, takes more than half a decade off, and comes back to gangbuster results.

That's exactly what Fefe Dobson is trying to accomplish. After trying to catch fire at the tail end of Avril Lavigne's initial success, Dobson failed to ignite on the charts and went back to the drawing board, only to be dropped by Island/Def Jam shortly before the release of her now-shelved second album. Most artists would then go the indie route and tour a lot on their own dime, but not our Fefe. After gaining some momentum through song placements and co-writes, Dobson resigned with Island/Def Jam, culminating in her second official release in late November.

Can't Breathe is an interesting listen, only in the sense that it's one of the truer ballads on the record and it's very vocal. I thought it would hate the song once the Ryan Tedder-y Wall of Sound elements started to hit, but you know what? It's pretty stunning. This doesn't reinvent the wheel lyrically, but with a melody as taut as this one is and as heartfelt a performance as Dobson gives, it's definitely forgivable. I could have even done with the superfluous electric guitar solo, which is saying something when Dobson's first album was at its best when she blew the windows off. If the album gets another single, this is the best of the lot. I'm a Lady almost made me squeal when I first listened to the album all the way through because it's exactly what Dobson should be doing. While I believe her on dance music, she just shines on the gruffer rock tracks. This jangly Jet sound-a-like has the type of delirious confidence and strut that Fefe is capable of doing, only this time it's for the entire song and it's pretty flawlessly executed. It's kind of the best of both worlds, as she gets the tempo and attitude of a dance diva but instead of throbbing synths, she has some nice driving guitars and pounding percussion. It's a well produced slice of retro rock that only hints at the inner rockstar that Dobson lets peek through now and then. You B!tch should have hit harder than it does. When I read the title, I thought it would be this brawler of an uptempo where Dobson gets to explore her punk side. What I got is a Hilary Duff song set to guitars, more or less. Seriously, the plastic-y verses sound like someone took a scratch vocal from a past Duff album (Dobson sounds exactly like her, to beat it all, which is eerie) and just shellacked it with guitars. The hook is terribly limp and doesn't take advantage of any of Fefe's inherent attitude, which should have been on full blast here. If you're going to call a track what Fefe did, go big or go home and unfortunately she was halfway out the door before the :30 mark.

Album closer Joy has a decidedly 60s campfire vibe until the genuinely perplexing chorus mixes some gospel lyrics with a come-on or two. It feels less like an artistic choice and more like a calculated "aren't I quirky? *grin*" type of attention getting that's not attractive in the slightest. Dobson is a talented woman who knows her way around a pen, but the decisions she makes about how to present herself are confusing to say the least. I buy this daydreamer anthem for the most part, especially because the melody is beyond infectious, but the sample just ruins everything. Thanks for Nothing sounds almost uncannily like Since U Been Gone; I mean, there are certainly much worse songs to aspire to sound like, but it's such a close mirroring that it's almost distracting. Taken on its own, it's an explosive kiss off that is probably a rough little rocker underneath the production, but combine the uninspired structure (sparse guitar licks fading into a revving drum kick and eventually a booming chorus) and the invasive production and you have a really bland listen. It's got enough to it where it should be the highlight of the record, but it's the biggest example of the record's anonymity. Ghost coming from any of Fefe's contemporaries would have infuriated me to no end. Here we have a "rocker chick" doing decidedly 80s dance music with crunchy keyboards and a blippy bassline? But considering the material that leaked from her shelved album Sunday Love, this isn't a surprising listen nor is it half bad. Edging closer to new wave than a typical dance floor filler, Ghost is one of the better written songs on the record, eschewing the type of snarly attitude that can appear on a Fefe song for a defiant independence that is ultimately quite freeing.

The main problem that I have with Fefe Dobson's second album is that fact that any one of her peers could have sang this and I wouldn't have noticed. That's not taking anything away from Fefe; she's a solid performer with vocal chops and a decent amount of presence. There's just nothing about these songs that screams THIS IS A FEFE DOBSON RECORD, which probably explains the lack of a single gaining a foothold in the United States. I understand that this is only her second album, but she's been in the industry for about 7-8 years, so there's been ample enough time to figure out who the heck she actually is and how she wants to present herself. I know this sounds like I hated the record (I think it's uneven and the stuff that's good is wonderful), but there's so much potential there that it's frustrating for Fefe to not fully develop a personality in her time out of the mainstream media. Until she realizes that she's not the punk-y love child of Kelly Clarkson and Pink, I don't see anybody ever paying attention to Fefe, which is too bad because this b!tch has only just begun to scratch the surface.

Tyler Perry Presents: A Tyler Perry Soundtrack to a Tyler Perry Movie

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The day that I read For Colored Girls Who Have Considered Suicide When the Rainbow is Enuf is one that sticks out in my mind. I had just gotten out of my poetry writing class which met in the library and I had my list in hand of books I wanted to check out. One of the main positives of the tail of 2009/all of 2010 is my rediscovered love of reading, so having that much material at my fingertips and participating in an honor's English class were only exacerbating my love for the written word. Of the three items on my list, the only one I could find was Ntozake Shange's defining work, a choreo-poem concerning the experience of the African-American woman in early 20th century America.

Needless to say, I read it all in a couple of hours and absolutely devoured the language. It was stunning, unique, and a joy to read. Not long after, I heard news of Tyler Perry adapting the movie to the silver screen. Upon collecting myself from the tantrum that followed, I realized something. While Perry's movies tend to be, shall we say, creatively challenged, his soundtracks are usually solid if a tad melodramatic. I've yet to see the film version of For Colored Girls, but its soundtrack is yet another good effort in Perry's history. One of the most rewarding inclusions is the stark Sechita (A Senohora em Amarelo), an atmospheric spoken word piece featuring Anika Noni Rose. Accompanied by some tribal drums that are extremely reminiscent of coffee shop bongos, Rose tells the story of St. Louis resident Sechita, her trip to Mississippi to become a dancer, and the subsequent regret. It's a little dense and you'll have to run through it a handful of times to really get the meaning, but it's less than 2:00 and Rose makes the story come to live with her cool reading. It's an interesting inclusion that takes a chance and you can't hate on something that works. The cover of Four Women worried me because anyone who takes on a song from a classic artist like Nina Simone has some major cojones and it almost sets you up to fail because there's just so much to live up to. This cover isn't as spellbinding as the live version that was debuted on BET's Black Girls Rock special in November, but it's extremely organic and true to the original. With Simone herself on the first verse, her (sound-a-like) daughter on the second, Laura Izibor on the third, and Ledisi on the last, it's a pretty consistent run of talent, as all four are singers who bring enough grit and can "dirty up" their performances without things getting ugly. Portraying the struggles of four African-American women (world weary Aunt Sara, biracial Saffronia, seductive Sweet Thing, and fiery Peaches) with just the right amount of subtlety, it's the type of socially conscious, intelligent listen that a soundtrack of this magnitude requires. What More Can They Do just knocked me on my butt when I first listened to. I knew Laura Izibor before this soundtrack and I thought her debut album was pretty solid, but man, there's nothing with this amount of immediate emotional impact on it. This is more than just the typical Tyler Perry soundtrack you-will-not-take-away-my-happy anthem that was genetically designed to get a reaction. Izibor's bluesy, staggeringly soulful theme of defiance and staying strong is genuine and positive without resorting to the type of empty diva platitudes that you tend to expect on songs like this. It's an interesting mélange of sounds, fusing funk, blues, and soul with a solid hook to create the set's best number.

Another positive thing about the soundtrack is that it's not all woe-is-me, all-men-are-bad warcries that tend to try for the more obvious notes than they really should. Fortunately Estelle's lush All Day Long (Blue Skies) offers a little more balance to the proceedings, throwing a daydreaming jazz-y midtempo into the proceedings. It's the type of song that I could easily see on a future Estelle release, emotionally self-aware and extremely charming. Drenched in some appealing 70s soul style production, it's a breath of fresh air in its whimsicality, a sort of calm before the emotional storm that is the remaining record. Some of the lyrical content may be eye roll worthy on the first listen (plenty of imagery using clouds, blue birds, etc.), but this is just a light listen to get you in a good mood at the start of your day. It's fluffy and just a total feel good listen. While I knew most of the artists on the soundtrack, Zaki Ibrahim was one of the exceptions and her Ansomnia is a left field piece of the puzzle that stands out immediately. In Ansomnia, you have an 808-heavy bit of electronic soul that sounds like a more controlled take on Alicia Keys's Love is Blind. Whereas Keys had everything set to full blast, Ibrahim is a little less obvious, softly cooing over the swirling strings and stuttering bass with a nice delicateness. I also appreciate that they didn't go as far into the electronic arena as they could have; the base of the song is still rooted in r&b, there's just a whole different set of flourishes to absorb. I Know Who I Am is one of the few songs on the record that does absolutely nothing for me. The main problem is that I just don't feel it. As the closing song on an emotionally taxing set (and even more dramatic source material), this should make you want to get up out of your seat and testify, so to speak. Leona Lewis, while possessing a beautiful technical voice, has absolutely no soul to her music and everything ends up sounding like she's performing on a talent show. Just aesthetically, it's very solid, but it's a boring bit of adult contemporary mess that just doesn't work. On a soundtrack with some of the more eclectic women in r&b, why would you have someone so polished perform the final song? Do I think this should have been some out of tune shoutfest? No. I just want a song about self-esteem and finally making it through the garbage you've had to go through in your life to mean something instead of being an excuse to hit notes for no reason.

The main thing that I respect about Perry's soundtracks is the fact that they're typically extremely cohesive and not built around one superstar single that wasn't in the film. Take For Colored Girls; instead of a roster that reads like the BET Awards performance list from any given year, it's a gathering of every type of woman. My only complaint about the soundtrack is that it doesn't represent hip hop as well as it probably should, but with spoken word, opera, neo soul, and jazz all live and in effect, it's a forgivable offense. While For Colored Girls was blasted for the same faults that a Tyler Perry film usually possesses (poor writing, off characterization, melodrama), the soundtrack is a musical representation of the main idea of the source material. No matter whom you are, what you've been through, someone else has been through the same thing. You're not alone.

II Good II B 4Gotten: Mariah Rocks Around the Christmas Tree

It seems that each passing year dampens my love of Christmas. What was once a fun, light, happy holiday spent with my parents and various animals has slowly turned into a tense, stressful period of time that I tend to grin and bear more often than not. Whether it be the seemingly endless rush of department stores putting their holiday decorations up earlier and earlier or the rising price of, well, everything in such a bad economy, I just can never seem to get as festive as I once did and that makes me sad.

However, there are bits and pieces of the holiday season that still make my Grinch-y heart grow three sizes every single time: the homemade candy, the cartoon specials, and yes, the Christmas music. Whenever I hear a sea of tinkling bells, mentions of Saint Nick, and a familiar melody, I can't help but be taken aback. Imagine my unadulterated glee when Mariah Carey, the woman I consider to be my favorite artist, decided to release a second Christmas album this year. Oh Santa! roars out of the gate with a boundless amount of energy. Utilizing the type of youthful exuberance that makes Christmas music what it is, Santa thumps and thunders along with feverous claps and cheerleader chants, an unusual but surprisingly effective take on holiday heartbreak. While the peppy tempo masks some negative feelings, the song's optimism and wide eyed hope are enough to bring the cheer. Carey's comfort and ease on the track is mot evident on the shimmering ending, a final flourish on a worthy successor to her previous holiday smash. When Christmas Comes wouldn't sound too out of place on a regular studio album, as this inspirational midtempo is a cross between Subtle Invitation and Fly Like a Bird. It is just a feel good song that you can't help but sing along to; it feels like Christmas, which is the point of just about any Christmas album, I suppose. With some muted horns and steady percussion, it's the type of song that Carey can really just riff on and spread her vocal wings a little bit. She doesn't go vocally crazy, instead mixing in some subtle vocals (she doesn't try to do too much on this album and that was a great decision) and a nice Jingle Bells reference that ties everything together nicely. Christmas Time is in the Air Again is the type of music that I'd like to see Carey delve into as she crosses into her third decade in the industry. This type of lush, elegantly jazz-y production really suits her voice as it stands today; it's such a natural fit for her softer lower register, the type of comforting embrace that is sometimes lacking in her music. The song in general is an understated ode to the feeling that the holiday season brings, but Carey brings out some of the most pristine belting that I've personally heard in a while from her. She's got such warmth to her voice that Time is almost maternal, its type of reassuring ease immensely relaxing.

When I first got a look at the tracklist, I was a little disappointed. Not because of the songs she decided to do, but the list looked so messy. I mean, so many split songs and interludes? I couldn't even imagine. Well, Carey managed to find a way to mash-up several Christmas songs to create really intriguing takes on songs we've all heard hundreds and thousands of times. The First Noel/Born is the King pastes together a very faithful rendition of Noel with a Butterfly album-esque interlude to form a very Mariah take on Christmas. While hearing that voice against a sparse piano is typically stunning, the closing of the song piques my interest slightly more. Is this an indication of where she's going on her next album? Or is it just a new flair that she thought would sound good? Whatever it is, it works well, allowing Carey's "typical" persona to peak through without derailing the progress of the song itself. The greatest gift that Merry Christmas II You bestows upon Carey's fans is the first opportunity to hear her duet with her mother, opera singer Patricia Carey. O Come All Ye Faithful/Hallelujah Chorus shows that Carey came by her talent honest, as both women more than hold their own on the Christmas classic (they have two very different styles of singing, but both are insanely powerful). I would have liked to hear the elder Carey a little bit more on the song or even hear how their voices worked together, as her mother only sings the second verse while Mariah sings the rest of the song. Still, it's so nice to hear the source of one of the greatest voice in music be able to share the stage with her daughter, even if it's only on one song. If Carey were to pull together a Christmas tour, perhaps, I would kill to see the two of them perform live together or tackle songs not currently on the album. O Little Town of Bethlehem/Little Drummer Boy definitely isn't skimping on the gospel influences, as Carey represents both the secular and non-secular Christmas worlds very respectfully and thoughtfully. While the somewhat busy production and healthy choir may swallow up many a performer, Carey seizes control immediately on this clever mash-up, which goes from whispery hymn to impassioned confessional with a ton of class. This is simultaneously stirring and haunting, a truly well executed bit of music that harkens back to Carey's first Christmas album in terms of tone and sound.

Upon hearing the announcement of this album's impending release, I was a bit skeptical. I mean, how can the woman who created the biggest selling Christmas album of all time (and the most enduring "new classic" Christmas carol in years) be expected to bottle that same lightning for a second time more than a decade later? Merry Christmas II You isn't without its problems, but it is 14 tracks of escapism, of candy canes and Christmas love, an intriguing melting pot of standards, originals, and modern takes on holiday classics. Carey's in fine voice throughout, utilizing more of her range than on 2009's criminally underrated Memoirs of an Imperfect Angel and infusing a warm comfort in her performances. In a world with war, poor economies, a bad environment, a crumbling education system, and a future as uncertain as we've ever faced, sometimes the only real comfort can be music, so the release of something like Merry Christmas II You is a perfectly easy way to wind down the year and learn how to begin again with fresh eyes and a clear heart.

Trust Me, Jazmine, You're More Than Good Enough

Sometimes letting go of anger is easier said than done. We all want to be these highly functioning beings that embrace positivity, rebuke negativity, and live our lives to the best of our ability, but sometimes that's just not possible. You get your feelings hurt, you experience disappointment one too many times, and any attempt at maintaining a sunny disposition is pretty much destroyed. As much as we try to change, other people might be our biggest obstacle.

When Jazmine Sullivan came onto the scene in 2008 as the "angry girl", I hoped that she wouldn't pigeonhole herself, as her voice (both lyrical and otherwise) were distinct enough to really make an impact on the stillborn mainstream r&b scene. Her intensity and passion were certainly high points to her artistry that I never want her to lose, but lightening up a bit this early in her career will only allow her the chance to have more freedom in her artistry.

I got my wish on 2010's Love Me Back; Sullivan manages to make the same heart wrenching material that occupied her debut, but she tries on new musical identities and manages to sound comfortable in almost every one of them. Excuse Me is her first real attempt at a big love ballad and this lush, whimsical stunner makes the case for Sullivan expanding her repertoire. While one would think that Sullivan's husky, weathered voice wouldn't be as capable of reaching positive emotion, Excuse shows otherwise. She uses the type of passion that she has in her voice and sounds so pure here, so full of love that she's instantly believable. The throwback production is a huge help, as this sounds like a really good slice of 70s soul, making this prime mixtape material. Famous could have been hideous. A singer singing about being famous has the potential to be extremely self-serving and condescending, but Sullivan's marching, haunting take on fame is wonderful. She absolutely wails on this song, but it's not showoff-y or anything; you hear the pain, the struggle, the gutwrenching journey that Sullivan has had in each chilling note. It's extremely reminiscent of Fearless, but you hear the other side of, say, something like Dream Big, which was optimistic and uptempo. Jazmine Sullivan doesn't sing about cars, clothes, and jewelry here; she sings about simply wanting to matter and wanting to help people who are just like her know that it's okay. I'm of two minds on the sparse, slightly gritty Redemption. While I adore the fact that Sullivan has taken a chance on this half-rapped character study, it's just not that repeatable and not as melodically strong as some of the other music on the album. I'm usually a fan of concept songs, but Sullivan's flow isn't that exciting (it feels like amateur spoken word) and the melody just goes nowhere; however, the quieter verses and booming hook are nicely juxtaposed and lyrically it's pretty powerful. I can't be too critical of the song because at least she's tried to say something and alter the typical contemporary r&b album; I would rather use a random album track to try a little something new that to present yet another bland ballad or soulless uptempo, y'know?

U Get on My Nerves just doesn't sound like a Jazmine Sullivan. She explores a lot of styles on this album, which is a plus, but Nerves sounds like it was written for someone with a different type of voice. Everything's a little too polished and perfect, which is something that Sullivan and her voice aren't; from the slightly cutesy reference to Bust Your Windows to the strange background noises, it's not as mature and self-aware as her debut was and most of Love Me Back is. Ne-Yo sounds fine on a song that could have been slightly tweaked to make it a solo song with no problems, but there's no chemistry and no real believability to the story. At first, I thought Stuttering was a little gimmicky; I mean, it doesn't really say anything and what words it does have are a little choppy and repetitive. But further listens showed me the error of my ways. While it's true that the song is mostly an excuse to allow Sullivan to riff for three minutes, it's well produced, a bed of snaps and understated piano that contrasts nicely with Sullivan's vocals. Oddly romantic, Stuttering is a solid bit of album filler, though it would have been better served to be a touch less produced. If you're not going to say anything in your song, you may as well get to hear such a powerful instrument in all its glory. While all of her peers are chasing RedOne and David Guetta around to pen them the next bland Eurotrash club anthem, Sullivan opts for a cleaner, decidedly retro slant on dance music with Don't Make Me Wait, a built-for-rollerskating uptempo that brims with smooth confidence and explores Sullivan's vixen-ish side. Effervescent and wonderfully youthful, Wait is fly and knows it, sashaying across the dance floor to the thick bassline with a lovely amount of flair for someone perceived as so stoic. If you had asked me when her debut came out what I thought of Jazmine Sullivan doing dance music, I would have had several not-safe-for-epinions words to describe my feelings, but you know what? If it's this natural a fit and allows Sullivan to have some fun, why not?

I'll be the first to say that I think Fearless is a superior album to Love Me Back. While Sullivan is a consistently dynamite vocalist who puts every ounce into every note, the material doesn't always hold up and you're left with songs that are either too small or too flat to have that much of an impact. She has, however, managed to make a more accessible record that has the potential to break her into the mainstream as more than "that girl who sings the song about breaking windows". What Love Me Back is, though, is a record that tries on many hats; Sullivan is a roller skating disco diva, a socially conscious roleplayer, a frustrated woman working on her anger, a scared young girl who just wants to be loved, an old school balladeer, etc. Jazmine Sullivan is an interesting artist and this puts her so far ahead of her contemporaries that it's almost ludicrous, making this record an essential for an r&b fan with their fingernails still clung onto the edge of mainstream music. It's an interesting snapshot of an artist feeling around a little more and trying to see what really fits, a sort of early transitional record in a career that could be extremely strong for years to come.

Burlesque Shimmies, Shakes, and Struts Its Way to Being a Fabulously Good Time

Just recently, I managed to catch Showgirls completely unedited for the first time. Quite an accomplishment, right? The infamous 1995 bomb-turned-cult-classic that obliterated Elizabeth Berkley's fledgling career is a nonstop barrage of sequins, genitals, and over the top cattiness, a full-on cavalcade of secondhand embarrassment that deserves regular viewing. I had only seen the edited cable version, so I really only got to experience the full on sonic boom of campiness through the full monty.

When I saw the previews for Burlesque, I was in heaven. You take a gay icon, a powerhouse diva, a coming-of-age story of small town girl (who ends up living in a lonely world), sparkly dance numbers, and some b!tchy side eyes, set everything in Vegas, and it's the second coming of Showgirls.

As ready as I was to ironically enjoy the heck out of the sure to be bomb, I listened to the soundtrack and was blown away. I loved it. First single Express, for instance, is an example of the type of savvy genre straddling that Aguilera herself accomplished on 2006's ambitious but bloated Back to Basics. Its seductive snaps-and-sax intro fades into a pretty ferocious little bump-and-grind, seemingly able to double as a song that describes Christina Aguilera the performer and her character's journey in the movie. It's confident and fluid, punched up by a rumbling bassline and explosive hook that practically demands to be screamed into a hairbrush. The Beautiful People has a similar structure to Express (flirty intro, burlesque-leaning verses, big beautiful pop hook with some edge to it), but at its heart, it's a glitzy, uber feminine tribute to the audience that just so happens to heavily sample the Marilyn Manson song of the same name. While this sounds like an absolute train wreck in the making, it works because of Aguilera's commitment to selling it and its glittery production that incorporates the sample enough to where it sounds natural. The enjoyment of the song will really be determined by how you enjoy the sample, to be perfectly honest; the song is more than just the sample, but its crunchy guitars take up enough of the song to where it's pretty unavoidable. Bound to You is the set's big ballad, so of course it works perfectly. Where most of the record is extremely busy, Bound prefers to go sleek and supple, sounding like a toned down version of The Right Man from Back to Basics. That's definitely a compliment of the highest regard, as I found Man to be pretty exquisite; Bound isn't the type of stunner that that album closer was, but it finds Aguilera in her comfort zone both lyrically and vocally. The times that I love Christina the most are when she drops all attempts to be a foxy sex kitten and just sings; her honest delivery and admirable passion that are in abundance here are much welcomed in the post-Bionic era.

I have mixed feelings about the inclusion of songs like But I Am a Good Girl. While it's another solid song on the album, it's well under 3:00, so it feels like you're just listening to a clip from the movie instead of an actual song. I don't mind the soundtrack including pieces like this, but if you're going to go that route, include enough to where the album actually has some meat to it. Nonetheless, this is the song that people who think Christina oversings should listen to; instead of bludgeoning you to death with growls, runs, and high notes, she becomes a cutesy coquette, materialistic and cooingly flirtatious but done with a wink to keep you in her good graces. Leaning more toward the big band style of music than most of the rest of the album, it's quite charming and a decent glimpse at the movie, but had it been fleshed out a bit more, it would have been a highlight of the set. One of the two tracks by co-star Cher (the other being the ominous Welcome to Burlesque), You Haven't Seen the Last of Me may be a little stale, but Cher puts everything she's got into the song and sounds as good as she has in years on this Diane Warren power ballad. Like Express, this could apply to Cher the performer as well as her character in the movie, so it adds that slight bit of complexity that makes it a more enjoyable listen than it would have otherwise. I only wish Cher had gotten a better track to show her stuff on, as this sounds like dated adult contemporary fluff that is honestly just beneath her level of artistry. These same lyrics applied to a better executed ballad (one with clearer production and a bit more subtlety) would have been a showstopper, but it ends up being one of the weaker songs on the soundtrack. Tough Lover joins Something's Got a Hold on Me as the two Etta James covers on the record and both are high quality stuff. Aguilera often performed At Last early in her career, so it's a nice touch to see her peek into James's catalog for whatever reason. Tough is another one of those mini-songs (it's less than 2:00), but it packs enough punch to make an impact. Aguilera breaks out her growl to the fullest extreme on this jangly bit of blues, really letting loose in a way that's less showoff-y and more comfortable than past vocal explosions. It's a little more intimate, though, than, say, The Beautiful People, which is a nice change of pace, but the fleet footed piano and enthusiastic background vocal given it enough dimension to really stick in your mind when the album draws to a close.

The soundtrack to Burlesque is loud, colorful, and full of energy, a veritable smorgasbord of bright horns, swagger, and classic material that is all too short at just around 30 minutes. Aguilera has recaptured her mojo on this familiar territory, exuding the sturdy confidence that she exhibited on the similarly themed Back to Basics. She may be guilty of chasing hits when the competition increases, but there's no denying that she's got an absolutely insane voice (the best of her generation, but that's not saying much) and when she uses it to the best of her ability, she has nothing to worry about. Burlesque may be a quickly forgotten film that further derails Aguilera's career, but its accompanying album is something to be proud of. Here's hoping it's given the chance to be heard based on its own merits, as it is a glamorous, vivacious collection that is for the star in us all.

Maroon 5 Needs Their 'Hands' Smacked for Another Underwhelming Effort

I've never been cool, so the thought of losing status does absolutely nothing to me. I know, that's a first sentence that's practically soliciting a reassuring comment, but trust me, I understand and fully embrace my dorkdom. It doesn't matter what I wear, listen to, watch, eat, say, or do because I'm still a soft-spoken pop culture nerd with a whole lot to say. In my earlier years, I was more concerned with appearances, but with age comes a whole lot of unexpected freedom.

Unfortunately, Maroon 5 has been losing some serious cool points over the last few years. The Los Angeles fivesome, once the toast of the music industry with their unique brand of pop-soul-rock, hasn't been at the center of the cultural zeitgeist in quite some time. Of course, not every artist can stay at the zenith of their career for an extended time, but it's been interesting to watch a band go from domination to almost being washed up in the span of three albums.

Fortunately on their third studio album, the recently released Hands All Over, there are a handful of tracks that bring back the type of excitement that their debut elicited. The title track is beautifully dark, a growling and electronic call for physical attention that is almost primal in its execution. It doesn't lose the pop edge that the group is known for (the sweaty hook is one of my favorites on the album), but it dirties up their sound enough to make their music more interesting. Hands has such a grind to it that Levine's swaggering performance fits right in, the headstrong lyrics giving him enough opportunity to play around. Don't Know Nothing may sound like it could have had a place on their underwhelming sophomore effort It Won't Be Soon Before Long, but it works well here, as it brings back some of the soulful, retro elements that the group tends to execute well. It's not as "committed" to the sound as, say, Makes Me Wonder, but this slick uptempo about a fractured, dysfunctional relationship really works from a lyrical standpoint. That may be the area of their music where the group takes more chances, but anytime there's some actual complexities and complications is a total plus; here, there's a constant push/pull that's intriguing and with the swirling organ and heavy bass, it's a solid atmosphere to watch that dynamic be explored. I Can't Lie dials back the production a touch (Mutt Lange handles most of the board work here and a good portion of the record ends up sounding neutered and faceless) and actually has some life to it. With slight similarities to Sunday Morning, it's got that fresh faced, carefree vibe to it that plays into their safe image without sacrificing all sense of artistry. Adding in some new elements to the album gives it nice texture (the piano is subtle but effective and the 60s-ish background vocals are a nice tweak) and it's just one of those listens that may not be the most exciting thing in the world but it's charming and feel good.

Featuring current "it" group Lady Antebellum, Out of Goodbyes is a picture perfect definition of an unnecessary duet. It's not an awful song; you get some stripped away production (finally!) and an admittedly quite pretty melody, but everything just feels so crowded. Nevermind the fact that this could easily go on a Lady Antebellum album in the future (I will place money on there being a Need You Now re-release with this being a bonus track), but such an understated, plaintive song would have been much more effective with Levine's vocal only. I understand the need to sell records in such a bad market, but at least make your pandering less blatant, guys. How is a bland, overproduced bit of music that seems too much like a track that was cut from Songs About Jane. Again, it's not awful or offensively done; it's just such a non-entity (and a disheartening step back from a group who used to be multi-faceted and at least somewhat creative). The production drowns out any semblance of a melody, especially on the extremely limp hook, and there's no sense of drama. It's only loud, louder, and loudest, which isn't that compelling to listen to. There's a nice track in there somewhere, but how are you supposed to find it? Runaway makes a few interesting, positive choices but is such a disappointment. For such a pop/radio oriented group, Maroon 5 has some pretty weak hooks on Hands All Over, present track included. Not every track needs to have THIS IS A SINGLE in neon lettering or anything, but it'd be nice to be able to remember more than a few tracks on the record after multiple listens. Though there's some irritating keyboard work that's cheesy and too 80s and reckless ad libs, it had the potential to be decent. This is just one of the few tracks on the record where the reaction to their last album is evident; they went to the Jane well a few too many times and even those tracks aren't that great. Lesson? It's all about execution.

Hands All Over is one more step toward the land of mediocrity for Maroon 5, where they'll join The Fray and One Republic as permanent fixtures on VH1 playlists and the soundtrack to the average suburban soccer mom's misadventures. What promise they showed on Songs About Jane is largely diminished here (they're not nearly as rockin', creative, or soulful); when they're not offering neutered adult contemporary fluff, they're trying to recapture the magic of their debut album through limp retreads that seem to drag on endlessly. There are a few moments here that show the creative fire in the quintet isn't yet distinguished, but your hands are better left off this bland excuse for a comeback album.

Billy Currington's Enjoy Yourself: Easier Said than Done

For some reason, country music seems to have a fascination with the beach. I don't know what it is, but it seems like every song these days seems to point toward white sand, crystal blue water, and palm trees as the ideal way to get away from the humdrum redundancy of everyday life. With the Budweiser a-flowin' and the speakers blasting any of the assorted go-to acts, it's supposed to be perfection personified.

I'm personally not the biggest beach guy, but apparently Billy Currington is, as evidenced by his recent release Enjoy Yourself. After his random-yet-enjoyable Little Bit of Everything produced two #1 singles, Currington seems to have fallen in love with the escapism of island life, taking the trend that Kenny Chesney started in the early 2000s and running with it in search of a way to present himself. Unfortunately, that's not exactly the best way to showcase his deceptive talent.

Love Done Gone may be the furthest away from country that Billy Currington has traveled in his short career, but the first blast of the quirky ad libs and bright horn section were enough to make me raise my eyebrows. It's not exactly an experimental song for Currington, as his good ol' boy-ness brings the country out of any arrangement, but it's nice to hear him venturing out of his comfort zone. It doesn't hurt that this is by far the catchiest and most melodically conscious song on the album, a bit of pretty decent songwriting that is elevated by Currington's smooth delivery and how feel good a listen it actually is. Lil' Ol' Lonesome Dixie Town is one of the few songs to differentiate itself on the record, as it's not of the smoldering loverboy ilk. It's nothing too lyrically different from, say, Pretty Good at Drinkin' Beer, but it's at least a different enough to gain some attention instead of fading into the background. Currington's never been known as much of a rocker or a rowdy type of performer, so this is a good change of pace, especially since it sounds much more fleshed out than a good portion of the record. I mean, come on, there's actual electric guitars and percussion in a Billy Currington song. It may put me in mind of early Dierks Bentley, but Currington does enough with his vocal (he lets loose a bit when he's typically restrained) to make it his own and hint at another weapon to utilize for his next album. Current single Let Me Down Easy plays on Currington's lothario image and in turn becomes one of the better songs on the record, if not the best. Aesthetically, it's pretty stunning, as he knows how to infuse a little soul into his music without it being too clunky. On this wounded bit of balladry, Currington gets to show off a fairly good ability to interpret a song, playing the vulnerable romeo with a sensitive touch and a whole lot of sincerity. He may not be the type of vocalist that, say, Gary Allan is, but he works well with what he's got and he knows himself, so songs like this are retro class and readymade for prom season 2011.

Like My Dog and Bad Day of Fishin' are products of the current era of the country manchild. You know, the guy who hasn't yet gotten over not being in his early 20s anymore and has hung onto that frat boy sense of humor/imagery that he gained in some of his more formative years. Both take extremely simplistic viewpoints and reduce a rather captivating performer to a one-note bumbling fool. The former is actually an interesting composition, leaning heavily on Currington's aw shucks personality and generally laidback demeanor more than typical. It has some slight blues elements to it (the jangly piano, especially) but is decidedly country (the first 30 seconds are a little hokey but they fit the vibe perfectly), which is all a shame because the song sounds like it was written in 5 minutes tops. Currington has charm oozing out of his pores, so songs like Fishin' aren't as inherently offensive to your senses as they would be coming from someone else, but it's sad to listen to that golden vocal spout out such inane, faceless mumbo jumbo. The second is a brief laundry list of things that his dog has over the women that he's dealt with in his life, i.e. the dog doesn't feud with his sister, the dog doesn't care if he leaves the seat up, the dog likes his friends, etc. Again, like Fishin', it doesn't produce a guttural response or any type of vehement hate; it's mostly just disappointment and a sense of "really?" because of how corny and obvious the jokes are. I know that he couldn't really do a lot of complex humor, considering the commercial expectations that he has, but to recycle a concept that Carrie Underwood utilized only a couple of years ago is beyond lazy. By the time you get to the faux dog howl at the end, it's quite obvious that this should have just been a fun studio gag or a store-specific bonus track, as it's honestly just really ridiculous. If there's one major positive of the album, it's that it knows what it is and doesn't pretend to have any other agenda. Enjoy Yourself encapsulates the entire record in less than three minutes. You have a quasi-tropical ode to the simple pleasures in life with slick production, general images of merriment, and a pretty relaxed performance. It's if Jimmy Buffett, Kenny Chesney, and David Wooderson got together, had a baby (enjoy that image), and it decided to pick up a guitar one day; that's probably my main fault with the record. Aside from a few moments, it's very been there done that; I know there's not really been an original idea in music/pop culture in many moons, but to have the type of neutered, middle of the road confections that Currington has served up this time around is almost insulting. Enjoy is pleasant background music, but you'll forget it the second it goes off.

If it weren't for Billy Currington's abundance of charm and his soft southern drawl, this would have been a bit of a musical train wreck. While I do appreciate him taking steps toward establishing a musical identity, I just wish that it was a different identity. Musically, the album is soulful and relaxed, though a little redundant (he joins James Otto in the Country Dudes Who Are R&B Influenced pantheon), but lyrically is where it falters. Currington and his co-writers sling a bunch of clichés (women don't understand men! Dogs are man's best friend!) and tired imagery that even Kenny Chesney found too square, only occasionally bringing about something romantic, thoughtful, or interesting. One joke-y song is almost to be expected these days, but Currington never lets down his guard and it makes the record ring hollow. Though he may have leading man looks and a penchant for collecting number one singles, Billy Currington still needs to bring a little more artistry to the table, otherwise I won't be enjoying myself for too much longer.