I can't wait for Christina Aguilera to get old.
I know, I know, you're not supposed to wish death and/or a shorter life on anyone; however, that's not quite how I meant it. Though I've been a huge fan of the blonde bombshell for the entire duration of her eleven year career (her poster still resides on my bedroom wall), I often times find myself to be pretty disappointed in her. Christina Aguilera started out fresh faced and bright eyed, hitting the teen pop era with a boom whose collateral damage included a diamond record and multiple number one singles. However, she instantly went to the using-sex-to-promote-yourself well on her second album, which overshadowed how rough yet beautiful the set actually was. Subsequently, she cleaned herself up (to meh record sales), but here we are in 2010 and whaddaya know, Christina Aguilera is still dirrty. How convenient.
Age would not only get Christina Aguilera out of the pop music crosshairs (pop radio is not a fan of the cougars, sadly), but it would give her more life experience and perspective as to what kind of artist she wants to be remembered as. She may be ridiculously talented, but she lets her aspirations get in her way; instead of being the girl with the gorgeous voice, she ends up being known for the wrong reasons, all in hopes of staying relevant. Despite this, Bionic manages to have a few moments that keep the project from being a total disaster. Lift Me Up, first debuted on the Hope for Haiti telethon in a much more stripped down (and superior) version, sounds like a natural progression for Aguilera. Enhanced by some noticeably restrained vocals (when she unleashes, it actually fits the song and isn't as showoff-y as past releases), it's the "inspirational ballad" that her past releases have all had, though the production is different enough to fit the vibe of the record well. Performed on the American Idol finale, You Lost Me is about as raw as you'll hear the young performer on Bionic. With whispery verses that gradually build in confidence until the guttural hook, it's a reflective, lithe ballad with some intriguing jazz influences. The main thing I noticed about the track is how elegant it is; it may just be due to the company it keeps, but Lost feels like one of Aguilera's true "grown up" tracks in terms of delivery, execution, and soul. On a record that's all bravado and crotch grabbing aggression, it's nice to see some honesty and emotion. However, despite the disparity between the quality of the ballads and uptempos, there are a few uptempos worth a spin or two. Hard hitting Prima Donna finds Aguilera going more toward the urban sound she had in Stripped, a sound that I personally would love to hear her explore more in future releases. With a thundering bass and a whole lot of swagger, it's one of the more infectious listens on the record, a party record that Aguilera pulls off convincingly. If Aguilera was going to go for a more "fun" approach, this is the type of vibe she should have went for; it's fun, non-self important (the hook is surprisingly positive and even kind of mantra-ish), and just dark enough to where it's still pretty interesting.
Glam is one of the guiltiest pleasures I've heard in many months. Seemingly built for every cliché romantic comedy clothing store scene out there, it's a whole lot of finger snaps and different vocals from Christina. Instead of blowing the rafters off, she alternates between a light falsetto and a speak-sing delivery that actually works for how campy the song actually is. This and Donna are two songs guaranteed to make you smile and get you moving in your seat. Desnudate (which means, basically, get naked) is one of a handful of songs that I'm still warming up to. It ends up sounding like a Pitbull throwaway track, that type of pheromone-laced club thump permeating this Spanglish dance cut. You almost expect the Miami native to put in a verse at the end of the horny-heavy stomper, its so in his wheelhouse. It's saved by how deliciously catchy it is, but it's not all bad. I Hate Boys is the type of song I really don't want her to make anymore. It's such a bratty, immature listen that a woman her age should have aged out of by now (I hate boys, the boys love me/ I think they suck and my friends agree). I know she's trying to cultivate this "cool mom" image, but this Keeps Getting Better knock off (seriously, they sound exactly the same; c'mon, sing one on top of the other) doesn't have the camp, catchiness, or interesting musical elements to rescue this 2:24 mess from the throwaway pile.
Featuring Nicki Minaj, Woohoo might just be the worst thing she's ever recorded, including the unauthorized release of demos she recorded in her early teens. It's not even that this song veers toward dancehall that makes it poor; Aguilera has a versatile enough voice to where the restraints of genre don't really affect her. This song just tries way too hard with its stale sexuality and overdone cockiness, something that comes off as your cousin who used to be the hottest thing around trying to recapture her sex appeal. And failing. Miserably. Add in an irritating "woohoo" on repeat in the verses, some seriously bad production (very messy and crowded), and a verse from Minaj that basically amounts to gibberish (she's still not switched her flow up any) and you have a train wreck. I thought that the addition of Peaches would help My Girls be an entertaining, colorful listen that brought Aguilera's personality out a bit more. Instead, we get a very self-indulgent party track that sounds very neutered (the production is seriously bland). The tired subject matter doesn't lend itself to being an "anthem" (you can dress up retreaded topics and have it sound pretty fresh, so the execution is off, as well as the fact that it's yet another song about her going out and getting wasted) while Peaches's brief cameo is a wasted opportunity. I'm admittedly kind of ashamed to love Vanity, though it was extremely offputting at first. Discussing her love for, well, herself, Aguilera creates what I hope is a very lighthearted club track; if this is remotely serious, I just lost a whole lot of respect for her. The track is delicious, over the top Euro club trash music and with a spoken outro that puts the icing on the cake (including a cameo from her son), its a blast of energy and fun that the rest of the record doesn't quite measure up to.
Far and away my least favorite Christina Aguilera album, Bionic and its accompanying media blitz seriously has me considering turning in my decade-old fan card; instead of going against the grain and truly making something of substance, Aguilera seems content with hopping on the dance music bandwagon of the past couple of years to try and regain some lost relevancy. Her past albums may have had flaws to them (Stripped is a little too all over the place; Back to Basics consists of a whole lot of hollerin'), but Bionic is eighteen tracks of self indulgence (enough with the filler and the interludes!) and shock value pop music delivered by an artist in quarter-life crisis. Her music may not have tremendous artistic impact, but she's always tried to say something and leave a bit of herself on her album. Here? We get a whole lot of unclassy/unempowering talk about sex, her body parts, and loads of expletives thrown in to show how "edgy" she is now. While there are flashes of what the original intent of the project was said to be (futuristic and dark were the key terms, not faceless dance tracks) and enough balladry to tide you over the next four years until she makes a new record, Bionic is something that Aguilera probably hopes no one will describe it as: ordinary.
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