Knockout Note

Fefe Dobson's Joy is My Apathy

2010-12-14T03:27:00.000-08:00

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

2010-12-10T00:27:00.000-08:00

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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

2010-12-05T13:27:00.000-08:00

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

2010-12-03T01:11:00.000-08:00

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

2010-12-03T01:04:00.000-08:00

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

2010-10-27T11:46:00.000-07:00

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

2010-10-22T02:06:00.000-07:00

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.

Bruno Mars: Not Out of This World But Still Not Bad

2010-10-20T20:28:00.000-07:00

By now, you've heard Bruno Mars and you probably didn't know it. Surprised? Scared? Confused? While my reviews tend to bring out those emotions in people, Mars has quietly been a major player in the music industry in 2010. With features on a #1 single, a top 5 single, and a songwriting credit on one of the most buzzed about singles of the year, Mars set up a solo career through the use of his talent and not a tired gimmick. Novel concept, right?

Already producing a #1 single, Mars tends to be one of the pop/r&b nice guys, his recent cocaine bust not withstanding. He doesn't get out of that mindset too often, but when he does, it brings out a different and necessary side of the diminutive Hawaiian. The mot surprising piece of the record is Liquor Store Blues, a reggae-tinged ode to the joys of vices. Featuring a typically strong cameo from Damian Marley, it's not only notably lyrically stark (and ironic, considering Mars's recent trouble) but it's relevant to the current economic situation in the country. It's this type of edge that is missing from the rest of the record; Bruno Mars is given some dimension and a little roughness, something resembling a personality. Most of the time, he's nothing more than an idealized version of what someone "should" be, as opposed to a three dimensional person. Something like Our First Time could have fallen into that cliché, but it's aesthetically gorgeous and makes up for any potential syrupiness of the lyrics. Immediately putting me in mind of 90s Janet Jackson, its silky production and whispery delivery are solid mood setters, inching Mars closer to being an r&b singer. While the bright, shiny melodies of songs like Just the Way You Are may be his commercial bread and butter, it's on the darker, less obvious material where he really shines. Breaking out his falsetto (which has more than a passing resemblance to Robin Thicke), Mars balances his loverboy and nice guy images nicely on the song, creating a definite highlight. The only problem I have with The Other Side is that Bruno gets outdone by his guest stars, to the point where you kind of wish they had handled the song themselves. Mars doesn't sound bad or out of place; far from it, actually. The production just doesn't fit his voice. When I first listened (not knowing who was on the song), I thought it sounded like a Cee-Lo/Gnarls Barkley song; lo and behold, Green appears and absolutely manhandles his verse, his ginormous voice as expressive and emotive as ever. As a whole, it's ethereal (the wailing organ), retro (the handclaps and powerful hook), and a great way to close out the album.

The Lazy Song feels like Bruno's bad karaoke impression of Jason Mraz. While Mr. A-Z may rely too heavily on the quirky lyricism, he knows what works for him and he tends to write to his strengths. With mentions of teaching me how to dougie, P90X, and snuggies, it's a little too cutesy for me and is yet another left turn in terms of style on the record. Being diverse is a genuine asset of any artist, but if you're too diverse, you have no identity and this is the case with Mars. Lazy is hokey, too lightweight, and not clever enough to really be a "funny" listen. Grenade is a bit melodramatic to take seriously. While the verses are raw and well-written, the hook has too much going on (especially the weak Love Lockdown-ish percussion) and suggests Mars may need to seek some counseling for his suicidal streak. It's hyperbole to the max, talking about taking a bullet and jumping in front of a train for someone who doesn't even love you back, and it's another case of Mars's pen ruining an otherwise solid song. There's no denying that it's ridiculously catchy, but just listen to what you're singing along to and it's rather morbid. Count on Me shouldn't be as enjoyable as it is, but it's the song that Lazy aspires to be; breezy, feel good, and mostly acoustic, it's one of those universal friendship/love anthems that belong in a camera commercial but is too charming not to love. With a lush string section and a genuine vocal performance, it's one of the prettiest songs on the album and its extremely general message doesn't come off as being manipulative. You may not be challenged by Count, but everybody has someone that they want to reassure and someone whose love is, at its heart, innocent and joyous.

I shouldn't like Bruno Mars. He's cheesy and tends to settle for safe, middle of the road pop songs instead of challenging himself. As good of a songwriter as he can be, that's a bit frustrating, though I can hardly begrudge someone for trying to be as successful as they can be. Wops may be a little on the short side, but it's got enough big hooks and instantly hummable melodies to make up for that and work its way into your consciousness. I wouldn't call myself a Bruno Mars fan necessarily, as I think he gets a little too cutesy with his lyricism and doesn't make the best production choices sometimes, but I admire someone who's out there doing well by making pleasant, harmless music. Wops obviously isn't going to change the world, but it wasn't meant to be; sometimes its nice just to have a kind word, a gentle melody, and some peace of mind.

The More, the Merrier: Ray LaMontagne and His Friends Have a Ball

2010-10-12T21:31:00.000-07:00

For as long as I can remember, I've been a lone wolf. Heck, it was even the name of my first e-mail address back in middle school, so you know I took that stuff seriously. As a result of being a rather isolated only child in a rural area, I never really had the early exposure to my peer group and, well, I learned to survive without ‘em. That being said, I'm not a total hermit and love it when I find someone who I can spend my time with, but in terms of school work and my overall day, I'm the definition of a lone wolf.

Ray LaMontagne, bearded flannel-clad folk singer, has broken out of his lone wolf status and assembled a backing band for the first time in his career. Of course, he's always had people playing with him, but this is an organic, self-produced way of expanding his inner circle and stirring the creative pot, so to speak. Apparently it worked, if you look at his placing on the Billboard chart and the (rightfully) glowing reviews. Coming off the uber 70s Gossip in the Grain, LaMonatagne stripped things down a little and crafted a vulnerable, taut collection of ten songs.

Best of all is This Love is Over, a sublimely nuanced acoustic ballad that is as haunting as it is emotional. LaMontagne may have an enormous voice, but to me, it works the best when he backs away from that. Here, it's almost like he can't get the words out, his textured voice wringing every ounce of hurt, contempt, and strength out of one of the shortest songs on the album. It stays with you long after the track ends, the soft guitars and elegant strings providing a stunningly elegant atmosphere for such a premiere vocalist. New York City's Killing Me immediately gives you traditional country vibes. You can easily imagine one of the genre's veteran vocalists singing this harrowing tale of big city claustrophobia, the faded steel guitars and shimmering production authentic and tender. It's not as immediately painful as This Love but its slow burn is pretty lethal and only gains intensity with each additional listen. It's an interesting style choice for LaMontagne but one that suits him well, as his aching vocal gives each line such dimension. For the Summer is so full of longing and the type of romanticism that he can bring seemingly on a whim. A sister song to New York (the key is to come home and get away from an oppressive environment), it expresses that weariness through anticipation and relief, as the cutting harmonica and warm percussion add that extra bit of flavor that this pretty plaintive song needs. There's not as much flash here, so it may not necessarily be a repeat song, but taken on its own merit, it's typically beautiful.

One of the main complaints that I have about the album is how slow it is. There are only two semi-fast songs on the record, which bookend the record. The Devil's in the Jukebox doesn't exactly pack a wallop in terms of its pacing, but it's a nice change and ends up being one of the bigger listens on the record. While songs like This Love are pretty raw and contained, Devil's foot tapping extroversion is well timed and pretty meaty in terms of content. It may be a little repetitive in terms of lyricism, but its haggard bluesy edge is breathtaking to behold. First single Beg Steal or Borrow was a pretty rightful song to be released, as its not gruff, overly dark, or any of the other faults that radio would have with a LaMontagne song (it's also fairly catchy). It's not particularly exciting, but you get production that backs off a little bit and Ray can have a little room to perform. One of the other main faults I have with the record is that sometimes his voice isn't allowed to bring it and gets drowned out by the layers of instrumentation. Here, however, it's more balanced and this cautionary tale ends up being a rather pleasant addition to the record. Repo Man may be over six minutes long, but its fiery disposition and bitterly intelligent lyricism keep the song brisk and entertaining. The production is a touch busy, especially upon first listen, but LaMontagne is never overshadowed and spits venom at a former lover with surprising ease. Had the song been edited a little (there's a long instrumental break to contend with and the first half of the song is noisy), it would have been pretty stunning, as hearing LaMontagne bust loose is never a bad thing, but it's no slouch here.

God Willin' & the Creek Don't Rise may be a little slow and sometimes indistinguishable, but it's exquisitely sang and thoughtfully written. LaMontagne hasn't changed his writing voice since adopting a band, as he's still the same sensitive, raw lyricist that he's always been and showcases it in spades here. Bookended by fiery uptempos, this is a somewhat dark and murky release but a therapeutic one nonetheless. For first time listeners of LaMontagne, it may not be the record to start with (I've personally heard two records before this), but it continues his trend of expressive bluesy singing and mostly soft production. The thing that I like about LaMontagne is that he is who he is, everyone else be damned, and it's extremely evident on God Willin' that if you throw one person or 100 people at him to collaborate, who Ray LaMontagne is will shine through regardless.

James Otto Shakes It But Sadly, He Also Breaks It

2010-10-07T11:25:00.000-07:00

Finding your sound in music is often a difficult task for artists. You have to take into account the current musical climate, expectations from your record label/friends/fans, and your past material, as well as trying to stay true to yourself and make music that you can reasonably be expected to promote. Once you find a good balance between all that, often times it’s hard to really evolve for fear of being surpassed by the next pretty young thing that is willing to do whatever they’re told.

Coming off a number one single a few short years ago that played on his deep, bluesy voice, Good Thing’s Gone Bad is exactly the type of song that James Otto, member of the infamous Muzik Mafia, should be doing. It takes what you know he can do and just expands it instead of being stationary. Featuring the legendary Ronnie Milsap (who sounds wonderful in his limited role), it’s in another world than the rest of the record. Otto’s vocals are from the gut, sultry, and surprisingly honest on a record that’s pretty artificial overall. It’s almost as if the presence of Milsap pushed him to step his game up and he really owns this gin-soaked I-told-you-so midtempo, utilizing a bassline with some actual stank on it (technical musical term, of course) to showcase that there’s an artist in there somewhere. It makes you wonder what he could do if he wasn’t constrained by a major label’s expectations. Let’s Just Let Go gets us out of Midtempo Land and actually into Balladville, which is a pretty nice place to be in this instance. Bittersweet and melodically stunning, it’s all about cutting ties and saving feelings, a topic that could have been really over-the-top had there not been some necessary subtlety involved. It may not be the most inventive topic or atmosphere in the history of music, but it’s executed beautifully and you have actual tangible emotion on which to rest your head. Sounding readymade for slow dances and CW break-up scenes, Let’s has this ache about it that keeps you tapping the repeat button. It’s my personal opinion that it would have been a stronger second single than what the label chose (it’s more genuine with a more universal message and), but that’s neither here nor there. She Comes to Me isn’t anything special, but when compared to the carnage of the rest of the record, it sounds like Mozart. A piece of wistful acoustic-heavy desert-country, it at least offers another view of what Otto can do while never forgetting his romantic wheelhouse (he tries to play the whole unexpected romeo a’la Trace Adkins on the record but it’s only really effective here). He tends to work best when he’s allowed a little freedom to play with the melody, as this has some pretty solid ad libs, but lyrically the song isn’t as strong as it could be. It’s not as egregious as it is on other songs, but listen to this and then listen to Love Don’t Cost a Thing and then get bck to me.

Soldiers & Jesus reeks of melodramatic desperation. Just imagine for a moment how you might think the song sounds based on the name. You got it? Well, that’s how it sounds. While Otto gets some clean production and a limber melody on which to flex his monstrous vocal, the songwriting is of the fish-in-the-barrel ilk and extremely combative (pun not intended). That is to say that it’s an extremely obvious pander to middle America (there’s talk of how the media loves to drag both of these subjects down, which I heartily scoff at); if you’re struggling to get your record out (Shake What God Gave Ya was delayed almost a year due to no traction at radio), you go to what sells and country radio embraces all things patriotic and non-secular. Honestly, most of the fault lies with me for expecting someone talented to also have a backbone and not go for the easy sell. Ah well. Sun Comes ‘Round Again represents the main problem I have with the record. It’s atrociously one note and never makes any remote risks in melody or tempo. There are at least a handful of sound-a-likes on the record that utilize that same type of Kenny Chesney-ish beach-y vibe that has swallowed Billy Currington’s career whole and seems poised to take over Otto’s. Using it for a song or two wouldn’t have been a problem, as Otto’s cup-runneth-over amount of soul and teddy bear charm fit this type of production fairly well. As single songs, they work better than they do as a collection because it sounds like the world’s longest song. I dare those of you who are brave enough to give this record a shot to take one of the sound-a-likes and sing its melody over another “brother”. It’s eerie how interchangeable things are. Are Ya With Me could have been recorded by any Tom, Dick, and Jason Aldean out there, so it’s a pretty vacuous way to spend about three and a half minutes of your time. The faux rock hook is a little much, especially considering how it’s the only time on the record he tries something like this, and everything’s just kind of stale. While it may be moderately catchy, it has no bite, no umph, nothing that sets it apart and shouts loud and proud that it’s a James Otto song. If Otto is going to prove that his past success is no fluke, he needs to carve out an actual personality, otherwise the ever changing tide of the music industry will sweep him away, which would be the ultimate shame.

I honestly really like James Otto and I think he has the potential to be one of the genre’s best contemporary artists if given the right material. However, Shake What God Gave Ya is not the right material for the job. While his voice may be wholly unique and has the ability to make poor material tolerable, this long in the works release is too bland, obvious, and repetitive to really make an impact. He spends at least half the record singing essentially the same song while using the rest of the record, minus the last three songs, to throw a bunch of genre clichés to the wall to see what sticks. It’s almost maddening that someone with as much range and confidence as Otto is forced to shellac his record with desperate songwriting, limp production, and some awkward playboy posturing in order to attract some attention from Joe Six Pack, but the more people hear him, the closer he gets to being able to make a strong album. Until that day, his albums are strictly cloudy with no hope of sunshine.

"Bring It On": Kaci Battaglia Puts Up Her Dukes

2010-10-05T17:46:00.000-07:00

There are some people who just emit youthfulness. Whenever you’re around them, you automatically feel that type of bright, joyful energy that emanates from the top of their head to the tip of their toes. It can be such a freeing, necessary feeling, especially for those of us who tend to be wound a little too tight, but there can be times when it’s a bit much. I find that I’m always a fan of people who live their life to the fullest, but know how to reel it in when the time is right.

If there’s one thing that Kaci Battaglia’s long awaited (by me) second album is, it’s youthful. However, while her first album came out when she was barely in her teens, don’t confuse youthful with innocent, inexperienced, or weak. Take first single Crazy Possessive, a Womanizer sound-a-like that adds a little viciousness and snark into the equation. Though slightly digitally enhanced (she doesn’t need it), Battaglia’s sheer commitment to this campy warning to a woman trying to steal her man is impressive. It hits harder than Spears’s song and the vulgar chorus is rightfully a mix of anger, defiance, and a little bit of craziness. Hearing a song blaming the “other woman” is a bit tired, but it’s a blast of muscular electro-pop that is made for a good speaker system. Bionic-Atomic is everything that Christina Aguilera’s album of a similar moniker should have been. Bring It On doesn’t take itself too seriously and it does her every bit of good on this semi-intro, semi-song. Whereas Aguilera’s sound was too diluted to really be effective as an electronic/dance song, Battaglia’s carefree anthem of self-confidence is straight forward and the type of glittery dance music backlit by glowsticks that is charming in its self-awareness. It also helps that it’s mindblowingly catchy and one of a series of feel good songs on the record. Bring It On would not be out of place on a Pat Benatar record; of course, there’s a dance edge to it, but with heavy guitars and a noticeable predatory growl about the vocal, it’s what happens when Pat Benatar meets early The Killers. The added rap from Battaglia is a little unnecessary but not entirely offensive, while the slithering hook and solid production add to the track’s effectiveness. It’s a different texture than the rest of the album, something that makes it stand out that much more.

Seeing You Tonight isn’t a bad song, per se, but it doesn’t belong on the record. Probably my biggest musical pet peeve is an uptempo album with one ballad thrown in. It messes with the continuity of the album and brings things to a halt when they’re just getting started. Battaglia has a very pretty voice and hearing it without some of the production she fights through on the rest of the album is a positive experience (the melody feels more “classic”, but Seeing just idles. I would love to hear her explore her more “sensitive side” on the next album, but if you’ve got songs about go-go dancers and tools, you might as well go full throttle, at least in terms of tempo. Speaking of Tool, it’s another Spears-ish cut that highlights a beer pong playing, overly flirty totally overvalued ordinary loser (get it?). For an album so concerned with living it up, possessing a track that pretty much condemns a guy who parties too much is a bit of a head scratcher, but its chant-a-long hook and sleek bassline more than make up for that fact, producing a pretty delicious bit of ear candy in the process. I would have liked her vocals to be less Britney-ish, but I attribute that to the type of music she’s decided to go with rather than her abilities. When I first saw the tracklist for this album, there was one title that really stood out to me. Captain Save a Ho is a track that I wish I didn’t like, but I can’t help but turn the volume up whenever it comes on. It’s bound to be a polarizing track, though, due to the rather frank lyrics and the weighty production. It’s not as extreme as you might think, though, as the track isn’t flashy, showy, or campy in the way that other tracks on the record are (it’s surprisingly straight-laced). In that way, it gives me mixed feelings; it’s not as bombastic as it probably should be, but if Bring It On were an album of eleven really over the top tracks, it might be too harsh to fully enjoy.

Bring It On is a hot mess of an album and I love every second of it. I know it probably diminishes whatever credibility I’ve built on this site in recent months to recommend an album about go-go dancers and partyaholics, but Kaci Battaglia has crafted a good time of an album. This won’t stick with you for days or inspire pensive journal entries, but Bring It On is a sonic boom of blustery synths, big melodies, and impressively candid lyrics that reveal a personality under the sheen. This is the album that leans toward the current dance trend in order to generate some radio play, but it’s not an album of Lady GaGa rip-offs or warmed over David Guetta retreads that have been rejected by every pop star from here to Christina Aguilera. Bring It On offers up a fun bit of escapism in a world with countless problems and a music industry that takes itself too seriously; what’s wrong with that?

Advice for the Young, Gay, and Southern: It Gets Better

2010-10-05T17:17:00.000-07:00

“No government has the right to tell its citizens when or whom to love. The only queer people are those who don't love anybody.” Rita Mae Brown

Regardless of what anyone tells you, high school is not all it’s cracked up to be. You don’t run through the halls screaming at the top of your lungs (sorry, John Mayer), a vast majority of people pretend to like one another simply for peace, and the institutions that have been shoved in our faces practically since birth are lousy. I mean, come on, prom? Really? While there may be fun times sprinkled in with the madness, loneliness, and piles of homework, the idealistic vision that 80s movies and ABC Family television shows have implanted in our brains are simply that: idealized. Those you share your time with may look back on it years later as being the best times of your lives and that everyone loved one another, but the reality is that for the bottom 99% of the food chain, high school is hell.

From the moment I stepped into high school, I was the outcast, the one that everyone seemed to zero in on for the fill of gossip. I may have been the gangly, timid kid in the back of class who barely said a word, but I made good grades and was friendly with the girls in my classes. For some reason, this riled up the other boys and I became the “gay kid”, though other more colorful names have been thrown in my direction. Whether I was walking down the hall, getting my lunch, opening my locker, or any of the other mundane activities of the average American high schooler, I was always seeming to draw enough attention to be verbally harassed. If epithets about my presumed sexuality and pseudo-macho posturing weren’t enough, I had to deal with trash being left in my locker, other locks being locked onto mine, and weird looks from those who seemed to take the most delight in my discomfort. What little peace I did manage to find was in the confines of the classroom, the one place I seemed to belong, but when I heard the bell, I knew that I’d have to navigate the hallways of my high school swiftly and with blinders on. One hint of weakness or acknowledging that I heard the things that were being said and it was over; I was toast.

Having to deal with constant murmurings and rumors took a lot out of me and by the time I was graduating, I was beyond burnt out. For years, I had to deal with fake love notes, confusing sexual come-ons, and the reality that I stuck out more than I wanted to. A part of me always wished I was “normal” and that I could just be “one of the guys”, especially early on in my high school career. The loneliness that I felt during this four years has gone unmatched since, as I was an only child without an active social life and a young gay male in a small country town that is anything but gay friendly. But the more I grew and matured, the more okay I became with myself. It still hurt to have the names screamed at me and the anxiety that came with being in high school is certainly something I’d never like to feel again. However, the closer I got to graduating, the more I realized that it doesn’t matter. High school doesn’t matter. What these people think of you? You’ll more than likely never see 90% of them again for the rest of your life, so to worry what insignificant people have to say about you is just hurting you and your chances for growth.

There was no set way that I became alright with my sexuality, nor do I think there’s any rigid formula to becoming a “functioning gay person”. In my case, it was simply time, life experience, and a different perspective that took me from being one step away from putting a knife to my wrist to being on the verge of graduating from college with my bachelor’s in criminology. If I could give advice to anyone currently struggling with their sexuality, especially in small/southern towns, I would say to never let ‘em see you sweat. Surround yourself with things you love. Keep an open dialogue with at least one person that you trust with such sensitive issues. Focus on your school work, because trust me, most colleges are a lot more open minded than your average high school (and, in my situation, provide the perfect background for becoming okay with who you are). Appreciate those who understand you; in a lot of cases, they’re few and far between. But most importantly, never think that you’re less of a person because of who you love.

Alice Smith: Anything but Ordinary

2010-09-12T03:36:00.001-07:00

As much as I truly adore artists that stretch their creativity and intentionally try not to have their entire career reduced to a 5 second soundbite, there are some that you just hate seeing ignored due to their inability to be classified. The mainstream (and even, to some extent, the "underground") is missing out on some spectacularly talented artists thanks to the lack of an "acceptable niche" that they have, which is only a disservice to listeners.

I only found Alice Smith through my many random nights of clicking around Wikipedia, amazon.com, and various music blogs and I am truly thankful to have found the former Fordham student. Her mixture of rock, r&b, jazz, and blues on 2006's For Lovers, Dreamers, & Me literally made me recoil in surprise as to how powerful it truly was. Desert Song is, to put it mildly, a masterpiece. From the moment Smith opens her mouth and lets out her first roar (you have to hear it to believe it; it's a truly complex, affecting voice), you know she's a special talent. This leans toward the blues side of her musical identity, as it is packed with meaty percussion and dramatic horns, all of which accentuate her muscular, textured instrument. The song itself is a "big" song in that everything is set on 11, but it never falls over itself or gets in its own way. With production and arrangement that allow the song to really shine, it's spectacular. Secrets and Do I both pull back a little and it's the best thing for the album. The more sides you see of Alice Smith, the more you respect her as an artist. The prior is a little more reserved; a simple, piano-led ballad that recalls Lauryn Hill, it's almost as if she's scared to fully sing about the vulnerabilities and insecurities the song covers. Both it and Desert are raw but in different ways. Secrets is raw in a more painful way, in that the quieter she speaks over the jazz-inflected piano and sturdy percussion, the more closely you true to listen. The latter is a little more ambient in terms of production (it's like Sade meets Aya), but Smith gets to sing out a little more. It's not as punch-you-in-the-gut immediate as Desert but her performance is still heartbreaking and as passionate. It's interesting to hear Smith on a more romantic track (she gives me hints of Goapele, which is a total compliment and a testament to her chameleonic ability to truly inhabit a song), but she fails to disappoint.

I have a hard time fully embracing Fake is the New Real, despite its jazz-y tones and melody that has a whole lot of stank on it. It's a cultural commentary about where we are these days (pornography, television, rock'n roll) and for some reason, I just have a hard time being truly gung ho about this type of song. Its smoky verses are raspy and sound like they're performed by someone 20 years her senior, while the reggae-ish bassline actually works better than expected, but it's not that conducive to repeat listens. I actually agree with a lot of what she says, but when you come home from a hard day or if you want to be in a better mood, you don't want to hear about setting televisions on fire and getting turned on. Some people could be a little intimidated by how serious the record sounds, but something like Woodstock lightens things up a little bit. Sounding like something Little Jackie would record (that type of feminine yet urban pop), it's a little off kilter and features perhaps the catchiest hook on the record. She doesn't really talk about a whole lot, but I think that's kind of the point; if how heavy hitting the record is wears you out, this is the song to put on and just relax. While the melody is very fluid and the atmosphere relaxed, the message is pretty timely for the current times, i.e. stuff is bad, make sure to let go of the anxiety sometimes. Gary's Song is a nice little funky uptempo that struts, preens, and poses its way to superiority, though there are a few twists and turns throughout the track. The tempo differential between the chorus and verses is a nice curveball (the hook is dreamy and almost soft, leaning more acoustic, while the song evolves toward a pretty gutwrenching piano ballad), while hearing her take command of an uber confident track is pretty wonderful. I would love for her to expand on the sound of the verses for her second album and really attack a song for 4 minutes, though hearing her try different things here is a pleasure in and of itself.

Though her commercial success has been limited, Alice Smith is still plugging away, doing shows in small venues and trying to drum up more interest. I'm not sure if a second album is in the cards, but we should be so lucky as to hear that behemoth voice unleashed on another dozen or so tracks. For Lovers, Dreamers, & Me, however, is a musically intelligent, ferocious, and thoughtful collection of songs that will satiate anyone's thirst for a multi-faceted performer who knows who she is. As long as Smith makes sure her material is up to par, she will continue to be one of the most interesting artists that nobody's talking about.

Oh Mandy, You Came and You Gave Us a Pretty Mediocre Record

2010-09-12T03:36:00.000-07:00

When you become a star before you hit the age of 18, there're really only two choices where your life can go. On one hand, you can let the fame go to your head and do everything in your power to try to maintain it, including but not limited to constant clubbing, trips to rehab, arrests, and other moves signaling your downfall as well as attempts to gobble up headlines. On the other hand, you can decide not to let the fame define you, still doing what you love without having to be the paparazzi darling that you once were. There are not as many people who choose this path, considering the amount of yes men and readily available substances, but when you find someone who made it through the storm, it's that much more impressive.

Mandy Moore was never a huge star but she's been in the public eye since her early teens. After being a 4th tier teen pop star, she's managed to transform into a low key singer-songwriter, marrying Ryan Adams and not going the way of her peers. We don't know what Moore is like in her private life or what traumatic events she's been through, but that's the point. I Could Break Your Heart Any Day of the Week attempts to be a spunky kiss-off but it only partially succeeds. Hearing something upbeat on a mostly ballad-y album will always make it stand out; sadly, the production makes this stand out for the wrong reasons. It sounds like it's trying to be "authentically 70s", but to me, it's just an echo-y, hollow mess. Moore does the best that she can, showcasing the likable personality that has been one of her main selling points, but she simply can't save this song. I mean, you can barely hear her over the cacophonous background vocals. So disappointing. Everblue just plods along for 4 minutes. It's not an inherently bad song; it's just a sonic blackhole. You keep expecting something to happen, anything, and nothing ever does. Moore sounds perfectly fine and I suppose the melody isn't bad, but it just leaves me feeling very meh. It exhibits one of the main problems I had with the record. You won't remember a thing about it for the first several listens. And I do mean several. I don't need there to be huge, #1 single-ish hooks for an entire album, but I'd like to be able to have a song to hum or a line to reflect on after I get done listening. On Amanda Leigh, especially this song, songs like that are in short supply. Love to Love Me Back sees Moore dip her toe into country music to surprisingly good results. With a delicate, romantic vocal that exudes the type of dreamy innocence that she does so well, this is extremely charming. Self-aware and thoughtfully written, it's a nice bit of evolution for Moore, but it doesn't get to have the type of impact that it could have had due to the loud production making its triumphant return. Mandy has a thinner voice, so piling layers of guitars and vocals on it isn't going to make it stand out. If it had been less smothering, this would be a summery little ditty but alas, it's merely hard to listen to.

Bug needed to be fleshed out a little more, as it falls exactly in line with the aesthetic that Moore is most at home on. The production is finally dialed down a few notches and she gets some room to breathe, which makes the song have a little more impact that most of the rest of the record. With feathery acoustics and not much else, you feel the desperation coming from Moore; she may not be able to blow you out of the water with power, but she's pretty adept at getting inside a song and really digging to find the emotion in it. At only 2:13, it's an appetizer of what she can do with good people behind her and a clear, concise idea. Nothing Everything is such a strange song. Where most of the record fits neatly in the folk-pop genre, this features definite shifts that take a few listens to fully digest. I appreciate the fact that it's an unorthodox, somewhat messy track on a fairly mannered record, but it doesn't follow up the rocking of the boat with any quality water, I guess you could say. It has all the elements of a strong, album changing song; everything just doesn't gel and the song ends up going nowhere. I'm fine with it being on the record, though, because it keeps things from being completely stale and hints at there being a pulse to Moore's artistry. Merrimack River actually works really well and seems to be the best example of Moore taking her fairly strong ability with melody and making an artsy-fartsy (well, for her) song. Resembling a waltz in structure, it's an extremely dainty song that takes some of Moore's best vocal habits and exploits them. She's not a very gritty singer nor is she a belter, so this song allows her flirty, pure voice to shine with its spotless arrangement. If Moore is going to keep tinkering with her style, she wouldn't be wrong to take it toward a song like this.

I wanted to love Amanda Leigh. I listened and listened and it just never came to me. I respect Mandy for doing what she loves and not conforming to what other people expect of her, so the musical change she's went through isn't the problem. This specific album, however, is boring and borders on pretentious. Moore is still charming and her vocal decisions are more often right than wrong, but lyrically it's a little off-putting and there are not enough catchy melodies to really keep you in the game. What should have been a quirky, articulate singer-songwriter album is instead murky MOR doused in tryptophan. There are a couple of moments that stand out, but it's not enough for the album to warrant multiple listens. Amanda Leigh may be another mature feather in Moore's hipster cap, but Shilo Dwayne sadly cannot endorse it.

Dondria vs. Phatfffat: Gimme $5 on Phatfffat

2010-09-08T14:42:00.000-07:00

Youtube has been such a defining element of the last part of the 2000s and early 2010s, so it's only natural that there are popular web stars who try their hand at mainstream success, right? Unfortunately, said success outside of the web has been pretty illusive sans one floppy haired teen with a rabid fanbase. Granted, there have been TV movies (Fred) and some international accolades (Esmee Denters), but there has been nobody in the same stratosphere as Justin Bieber in terms of name recognition and commercial viability.

Dondria (known by her Youtube username Phatfffat, hence the title of the album) is looking to go more toward the Bieber side of the spectrum, though her first week sales and year-long album delay seem to indicate that not being a possibility. Signed to So So Def (aka where urban artists go to die if Bad Boy's roster is full) since 2008, Dondria finally saw her debut album released last month after two years of buzz singles and record label red tape. Surprisingly, it's a listen that requires some attention.

Probably the biggest theme of the album is how old it sounds. For the most part, Dondria vs. Phatfffat could have been made during So So Def's mid-late 90s heyday and it wouldn't sound out of place. Songs like Making Love and Where Did We Go Wrong both give me flashes to early Monica records in terms of production (subtly urban with clear cut, easy melodies) and overall presentation. The first, an ode to the physical, takes a youthful slant on the subject; instead of a steamy bedroom ballad, it focuses more on infatuation and desire, riding a skittering drum machine and forceful vocal to album highlight status. I appreciated the fact that Dondria, only in her early 20s, didn't make this into a too grown pontification on her, ahem, abilities. The latter, more of a pensive plea for answers in an obviously failing relationship, reveals some of Dondria's more Knowles-ian vocal tendencies, a trait that goes in and out on the album. Fortunately she tends to get the better of the two (Beyonce's power and Solange's emotional connection), which helps keep this from being too mopey. I often feel like this type of song tends to get a little needy, but the atmosphere is lighter and the vocal is more matter-of-fact than woe-is-me. Kissed By the Sun was the biggest surprise on the record. What little I knew about Dondria told me that her album would be a fizzy, feminine collection of pretty ballads and lightweight uptempos, but I never expected something like Kissed. Instead of the pleasant but bland, you get a powerhouse piano ballad that showcases a gorgeous voice just yearning to break out. For the only time on the record, she sings out and what comes forth from this romantic album closer is mature, lush, and beautifully executed. The melody is lithe while this is a perfect way to end things. You feel hopeful with where she can go from here and earn a new respect for her abilities. Well done.

The only track that I actively skip is Believer, a track that goes absolutely nowhere. It fits in with the sound of the record, but the melody is beyond limp and everything seems almost washed out. With some serious lyrical retread (it's more cliché than usual) and pretty monotone vocals, there's nothing to grasp onto. Some of the other tracks on the record have extenuating reasons why they're not that great, but at least they're listenable or stick out in your mind for some reason. Believer isn't memorable at all and almost brings the record to a complete standstill. No More is undone by the sample. I know there are some "old faithful" samples that have been used to death in r&b, but this pretty much sounds like a carbon copy of 50 Cent's 21 Questions. While that remains one of my favorite 50 Cent singles, its prolific presence has diminished the quality of No More. Instead of sounding like an album track on a release from a pretty well known label, it gives me cheap homemade mixtape vibes and that's not the feeling to invoke on your first record. The sample is actually well used and fits her voice, but it just sounds like it was recorded 5 years too late. Probably the most maddening thing about the record is the fact that after multiple years of delays, it's really only ten songs with one remix/reworking. That may be fine for an established artist, but for a new artist it's disappointing. That being said, You're the One (JD's Jeep Mix) has a really nice mid 90s vibe and actually feels like a completely different track than the original. No, it's not just the same vocals slapped on another beat; this is a lot more youthful and edgy than the restrained (and somewhat stuffy) first single, a happy medium between the Shawty Wus Ups and Kissed by the Suns of the world. The laidback confidence of the production feels more like Dondria's comfort zone, the age appropriate bounce allowing her some freedom to just have some fun. Had it been an entirely separate track, it would have been elevated but the record would have been better off without it.

Dondria vs. Phatfffat is such a generic album but it's one of the more likable releases this year. I recognize all the faults of the album (cheap production, lazy tracklisting, indistinct voice) but it's not stopped me from really immersing myself in it since the August 2010 release. What she lacks in originality Dondria makes up for in charisma and her easy presence. She never strains, never tries too hard, and just seems to be comfortable in whatever is thrown her way. There are moments that hint at a potential for being an interesting artist in the future, but she needs to work on being herself and not trying to be everybody else in the industry at once. Until then, I think Phatfffat has won. Your move, Dondria.

Lisa Marie Presley's Now What: Black as Night with a Little Extra Fight

2010-09-08T12:47:00.000-07:00

When you've spent your entire life as a tabloid target, it's a little difficult to get people to take you seriously. Even if it's not your intention to be hounded by photographers and have your entire life documented for all the world to see, people automatically assume that if you're a constant media presence then it's your own doing. I couldn't imagine being born into celebrity and having to fight that off in order to do something that I love.

Lisa Marie Presley has had to do that since the beginning of her singing career in the early 2000s. Being the daughter of the king of rock'n roll and marrying the king of pop would set anyone back in terms of finally finding their occupational voice. Presley has always been an outspoken woman with no regard for our soundbite obsessed culture, but she never had the confidence, the songs, and the direction to set out on a solo career until well into her 30s. What resulted was 2003's To Whom It May Concern, a scathing look at motherhood and fame, followed shortly by 2005's Now What.

Preceding the album was a cover of Don Henley's Dirty Laundry, a commentary about fame and scandal. Though I genuinely enjoy the song's sound (it's got this almost confrontational slant to it, thanks to the slithering bass and slow burning vocal, all of which play to Presley's strengths), it just feels a little bit like harping on the same material in order to make an interesting song. Granted, it fits Presley's vocal style and overall ear, but her peak tabloid years were at least 10-15 years ago. I know that scars from past experiences tend to take time to heal, but it plays the victim a bit too heavily and ends up sounding like another hypocritical celebrity mopefest. Raven is more in line with what I want from Lisa Marie; referencing her mother, it's chock full of regret and feels undoubtedly bittersweet. Beautifully penned and featuring stormy production, its cathartic without being too heavy; I appreciated the metaphor because if it had been written too straightforward, you wouldn't have had to think about what she was saying. Metaphorical songs tend to get too cutesy (well, more often than not), but Presley manages to unload a lifetime of emotion in the span of just a few minutes and keeps her head above water. Turbulence lightens the mood about as much as it can be on a Lisa Marie Presley record with its bouncy guitar work and less smothering production, but it still manages to sock you in the gut with the somber, cutting hook. It may expose one of Presley's only true weaknesses (her enunciation is a bit messy, so keep your album jacket handy), but it also highlights just how emotionally connected she can get to her material. While it doesn't immediately have any references to her personal life, the conviction with which she performs stands out and lifts the proceedings up.

High Enough has the proper hazy production and wispy delivery for its subject matter (it sounds like the morning after) while providing ambiguous enough lyrics to leave you wondering. It's an anti-drug message, for sure, but I can't necessarily tell if it's more of a personal-experience-I've-had-wild-nights-and-I'm-never-doing-that-again type of perspective or if it falls in line with To Whom It May Concern's title track and comment on the use of psychiatric drugs by children (the talk of swimming in your own mind leads me to think it's this). Either way, it's well executed, featuring some punchdrunk guitar and properly subdued drumming. If you're looking for a purebred rock track from Presley, this is it. Thanx returns Lisa to the country-ish elements of her debut album, possibly her weakest stylistic choice, but it's yet another solid cog in the Now What wheel. It's refreshing to hear some optimistic thoughts from the typically dour diva, as the song itself follows suit. The laidback atmosphere on this readymade road song spreads to Presley's delivery, a type of ease to her effusive praise that has been seen very rarely on her first two albums. If you like your Lisa Marie pensive and ornery, this won't be for you, but I always respect an artist revealing another side of themselves. Turned to Black wouldn't sound out of place on a Maroon 5 record; it's more Songs about Jane than It Won't Be Soon Before Long, though, with its soulful atmosphere and vibrant melody. It still has the "signature" darkness that both Presley albums have had, but it has more layers to its sound (A string section! Jazzy undertones!) and message (It's articulate for a break-up/kiss-off midtempo). This song does what I think most artists, regardless of lineage and commercial standing, need to do in order to make interesting music; this has its roots in the artist's identity while slowly easing out of their comfort zone.

While To Whom It May Concern had a little bit more complexity to its sound (it was simultaneously southern, bluesy, rock, pop, and country), Now What is a pretty solid follow-up and one that positions Presley as someone who could make a transcendent record one day. Not everything has clicked on all cylinders for an entire record yet, but when it does, watch out. Until then, you get flashes of brilliance here, as the rougher uptempos and smoldering ballads are a nice contrast and Presley's husky snarl is reminiscent of someone in particular. It's not a perfect record but in a time that is seriously lacking in commercially viable female rock artists, what better way to go than explore the lineage of a legend, the ex wife of greatness, and a pretty darn good singer-songwriter?

Stuff I Hate About the Music Industry

2010-09-04T22:50:00.001-07:00

You've been there for me through thick and thin. I don't think I would have made it this far if it hadn't been for your comforting presence. Whenever I have a bad day, I know I can come home, lay down, and let you hold me until I feel strong enough to take on the world again. We've been together practically since I was born and I feel as if we've grown with one another.

But I have something to say.

It's not you. It's me.

No, no, don't cry. This happens to all couples, right? Sometimes people just grow apart and I feel as if we've been doing that for the last couple of years. There's nothing inherently wrong about that; facts are facts. I just wish it didn't have to end this way.

As much as it pains me to say this, it's over.

Music and I are on the outs. Well, specifically, the music industry. As hard as I've tried to keep it together and see the light at the end of the tunnel, there's just no way of denying that I am too darn old to deal with this foolishness anymore. I mean, the fire still burns inside me and the desire to have at least one relevant interest is just as strong, but man, trying to keep up with everything is draining. There's not much to hang your hat on these days, unfortunately.

Producer/rappers: I actually don't begrudge anyone chasing their dream, so the fact that there have been several producers (Swizz Beatz, Timbaland, and Sean Garrett, among others) attempting to get their solo on isn't too disturbing. I mean, it's a little annoying, as that record contract could have went to a struggling musician, but I can rationalize them putting out music. I just hate that none of them are any good at it (minus Missy Elliott, but she's been absent from the rap scene for a minute) and can't seem to wrap their egos around that fact. Okay, an example. I love tennis; I've adored it, major tournaments are often a time I sit around my television with pure glee, and I defend it every chance I get. I even went out for the tennis team in high school and in a nutshell, I was awful. It was a wonderful workout and I had a blast when I played, but I was genuinely a really bad player. I realized this, saw that my game was not improving no matter how hard I worked, and I hung it up. I still love tennis/play for fun and I wrote at a sports blog for a while, but I don't feel the need to play competitively. Just sayin'.

Same guests on EVERY album: Mainstream music is, for the most part, rather redundant. I know that there are only a certain number of producers and guest stars deemed to be commercially viable enough to be worth a slot on a record and this is, after all, a music business. But seriously, can we get a little variety? If Nicki Minaj's Wikipedia entry is to be believed, the Young Money emcee has been featured on 35 songs in 2010, with eight of them being singles. Couple that with three singles from her solo album and it is pure overkill. Throw in Ludacris (21 in 2010), Drake (18), T.I. (19), Rick Ross (18), and you have a whole lot of repeat offenders on the major releases of 2010. I'm not talking down about their talent, as Ludacris specifically is the best guest rapper that anybody can hope for. He brings the type of reckless energy that a lot of songs honestly need, so whenever I read a news article about his latest endeavor, I tend not to worry about the quality as much as I do the quantity. No matter whom you are, if you spread yourself that creatively thin, you're bound to dilute your product, which is one of the main problems the music industry is facing these days. If everything sounds the same or you get a Nicki Minaj verse about 7-8 times a month, why should you buy more than a few albums?

Songs about how country you are: This generally extends to songs about how you're such-and-such of anything, but I used country because it's one of the most prominent examples. To me, if you brag about something, anything really, you're overcompensating. Those who are the most country/hip hop/charming ladies' men/intelligent don't go around telling you about it; instead of telling, they show. You don't hear George Strait or Lee Ann Womack insecurely name checking famous country musicians (Hank Williams and David Allan Coe seem to be popular but there's a lot of Johnny Cash references, as well) or giving you a list of their stereotypically country behaviors. You know they're country by what they sing and how they sing it, which is how music should be. Anytime someone is talking about little dirt roads, sweltering summer nights, pick-up trucks, Friday night football games, Jesus, farming/hauling hay, camouflage, huntin', etc., I don't find it to be terribly authentic. I don't think any of those are necessarily bad subjects, but the Nashville songwriting associated with every topic is always so damn lazy. Give a fresh spin to the most well worn topic and it can turn out to be wonderful, but the assembly line song production in country is just a mess.

Interludes: This one is with an asterisk, as I don't hate all interludes. If an album follows a set story with interludes that move said story along, I can understand that, though I more than likely will only cherry pick the songs and never listen to the interludes. My favorite types, and seemingly the rarest, are the interludes that serve as either unfinished songs or little bits of music between other songs; take, for example, Danity Kane. Their two albums had multiple interludes on them and instead of making them lame jokes or 10 second wastes of space, they put in mini-songs and helped move the album along. I think interludes bloat an album and make it painful to listen to as opposed to a joy; instead of a clear, taut collection of 12 songs that express a common vision, we get 22 songs and 10 interludes that seemed funny in the studio but don't translate to repeat listens. They bring the album to a complete stop as you wait for the next song to begin. If they're built into a song, it's completely infuriating; on Tamia's last studio album, there were two songs that crept in the 6 minute mark because of added on sections that are cute for all of one listen. After that, it's tedious to listen through, so keep your skip button finger handy. Something like, say, an end of the album remix also could fit into this category, as they very rarely hold any sort of artistic weight, serve only to get an extra guest on the record, and immediately interrupt whatever flow the album had.

Cookie cutter production - Ryan Tedder, Stargate, etc: Hey, you guys, do you want to play a game? Of course you do. Look up the following songs and tell me the difference, okay? Round #1: Kelly Clarkson Already Gone, Beyonce Halo, Jordin Sparks Battlefield, Leona Lewis Happy, and Kristinia DeBarge Speak Up. Okay, pencils down, kids. It's time for round #2: Beyonce Irreplaceable, Jordin Sparks Tattoo, Chris Brown With You, Rihanna Hate That I Love You, Mario Vazquez Gallery, Shontelle Impossible, and Trey Songz I Need a Girl. Alright, time's up. You want to know the difference between both groups of songs? There is none. Pop/r&b artists are like the movie industry - find one thing that works and reproduce/sequel-ize it until people want to bang their heads against the wall. It's moved from Tedder and the Norwegian duo to David Guetta and Red One recycling material to coincide with the current dance craze that seems to be invading popular music. I know every era has trends and I'm all for generating sales in an industry that has slowly been dying, but this is not the way to win new fans.

Poor treatment of women: There are six total women in the country top 20 this week and guess how many of them are solo? One. Taylor Swift (the other five come from Lady Antebellum, Little Big Town, The Band Perry, and Sugarland). How many solo men? 14. Country in particular seems to have a certain amount of spots for women and only a certain few women that they'll even give the time of day. Currently, it seems that Miranda Lambert, Carrie Underwood, and Taylor Swift are the golden girls of the genre, though Lambert has just recently gotten her radio mojo. Combine this with pop radio's seeming inability to embrace any female artist who doesn't dumb herself down or slut herself up and you have a really bad atmosphere for female musicians. There's still the issue of misogynistic lyrics (hello, Mike Posner), as well, so the amount of obstacles facing a female musician is pretty daunting. It may just be the current era we're in, but I personally miss the times of Lilith Fair's first incarnation, as the sudden resurgence of female singer-songwriters was not only refreshing but it gave my musical taste a much needed shot in the arm. Fingers crossed for a new revolution soon, y'all.

Blogs: I say this as a lover of juicy gossip, but blogs are bad for the music industry. None of the prominent blogs are even musically focused; they tend to keep the same rotating cast of characters in terms of who they cover, so it gets a little boring after a while. If they widened the scope of which they cover, I would be alright with them, but do we really need to know every move that these people make? If there's major career or personal life news, that's one thing, but pictures of somebody walking down the street are a bit much. That space could go to up-and-coming artists, older artists trying to make their comeback, or just something much more productive than commenting on baby bumps and outfits. I think it reinforces the idea that music is not important these days; as long as you're young enough, make poppy enough music, and have enough dirt in your personal life, your name will be out there. In addition, they keep people who are famous for doing absolutely nothing on the radar for far longer than they deserve it. They give people a sense of legitimacy that they really shouldn't have, so we have to endure countless comments about "haters" (my least favorite word of all time). Sigh.

"Buzz single"/pushbacks: Okay, let's keep this simple. If you release a single and it fails, it's your first single. I don't care what you call it; if you make a video and it gets pretty significant radio play, it's a single. Not a buzz single, not a promo single, it's a full-on single. Take the failure on the chin (everybody has poorly performing singles on their resumees, so it's no big deal) and keep it moving. I think promo singles/buzz singles do exist but not at the rate that most artists seem to label them. It only makes you look bad if you're unwilling to accept any responsibility for something failing. Album pushbacks are one of the reasons that the music industry is down; no, it's not on the same level as overpriced CDs and the rise of technology, but if you have no idea when the album is coming out, it's hard to know when to go to the store and buy it, y'know? Fortunately, I keep track of any updates so I'm never that lost, but if you're not sure when you're going to release something, don't give out a concrete release date. Pushing it back makes you look bad (as if you're losing your career) and, mostly importantly, incompetent; I much prefer no news and then hearing a fully set-up promotional plan with a 100% certain release date.

Twitter: Hi, my name is insomniac1587 and I...am a social networking addict. Yes, it's a sad but true fact; if it allows me to express every inane thought I could possibly have or reply to somebody with a funny .gif, I'm there with bells on. Livejournal, MySpace, Facebook, Twitter, Tumblr, Last.fm: I have had ‘em all at one point in time or another. Shameful, I know. I do think social networking has wonderful positives for celebrities; it's a way to have direct contact with your fans, ensuring quick responses to new material and allowing you an unfiltered, very public forum to address speculation. It can also allow you to strip yourself down and reveal who you are away from the cameras, which can truly endear you to your fanbase. However, it can have ugly side effects. You can reveal yourself to be an overly sensitive prima donna who needs to get out of Hollywood for an hour, expose racist/sexist/homophobic tendencies that would not have been expressed during press conferences/carefully controlled interviews, or reveal yourself as just an unpleasant person whose image was pretty much a sham. You have to be careful to give the fans enough of a personal side of yourself to relate to more, but pull back enough and don't act too crazy.

There are the typical pretentious posers (Solange), obnoxious political junkies (Marc Broussard), the crazies (Tila Tequila), the idiots (Slim Thug), those who are too defensive and fulfill stereotypes (Miranda Lambert), neutered accounts controlled by publicists (Britney Spears), and self-appointed self-help gurus that inspire many an eye roll (Rev. Run, Diddy), but don't let those discourage you, my anxious little pop culture nerd. That group (and many...many more) may suck the fun out of the site and don't use it to their advantage, but there are several who I've grown to love simply from following their tweets. There are under the radar singers who just love living life (Melinda Doolittle), quirky girls who you want to make your best friend immediately (Julie Benz), people who reveal another side of themselves (Don Lemon), people who actually interact with their fans (Romany Malco), great ways to keep up with music news (RapUp), and truly inspiring individuals that are making a difference (Ryan Leslie). It was the best of times, it was the worst of times...

Is this a sign I'm getting old? Growing up? Or just smartening up? Either way, I'm over you and your immature nonsense. I'm over constantly feeling frustration over something that I used to eat, sleep, and breathe. I'm over being fed the same garbage year in and year out, expecting to either like it or go off on my own to do my own thing. I'm simply over you, music industry. Unless you straighten up and act right, I'm afraid our affair is over.

We'll always have Mariah.

Mike Posner: 31 Minutes to Take Off, 30 Seconds to Irrelevancy

2010-09-04T20:57:00.000-07:00

RIP Modern Pop Music: 1960-2010

Ladies and gentlemen, it has finally happened. What has been often threatened with the release of every Ke$ha single or Katy Perry album has managed to come to fruition. There is no turning back from the destruction that we're about to deal with. Hold me.

Pop music is dead and Mike Posner is holding the smoking gun. The former Duke student became an out-of-nowhere success story earlier this year with Cooler Than Me, a top 10 single that had a fairly decent melody but quickly grew very very old. Of course, that meant that it would be run into the ground by radio, MTV, and the obnoxious people on my Facebook. Being the glutton for punishment that I am, I figured I would try out 31 Minutes to Takeoff; I mean, nobody's first single is the best thing on their album, so I assumed I would find a guilty pleasure jam or two and be done with it.

Oh how wrong I was. Posner's debut album is one douchebag lyric after another, most evident on the wretched Cheated. In addition to an incredibly jarring chorus where he calls his cheating ex-girlfriend out of her name (and eventually says her full name toward the end of the song, saying this song is for her), it's got this gross Euro-trash gloss about it that he nasally whines over for a painful 3 minutes. I love a good kiss-off song and this same overall message has been done before, but the production sounds like a David Guetta ripoff and the vocals are too thin to really make much of a difference. Just when you think that maybe the previous track is a one-off bad track and just a part of his musical growing pains, we get Gone in September, where he details cheating on his girlfriend, how he only told her she was pretty to "score" with her, and his fall from being a "good guy" to the man you hear before you. Its got the strangest disconnect that I've heard in a minute; you'd think something like this would have a little bit of aggression, a little fire to it, but it's this very passive, beach-y midtempo that is decidedly pop-rock (the random keyboard blips try to tie it in with the rest of the album but they sound out of place). You just don't root for Mike Posner and he's never even captivating in a troubled anti-hero type of way, which is one of the most glaring faults of the album; he's not a good guy and it's difficult to keep listening to music from someone like that. Bow Chicka Bow Wow tries to be sexy but it comes off as pretty limp. Instead of, y'know, offering up anything resembling romantic lyricism or an emotive vocal, you get corny throwaway lines about Red Bull and teddy bears over a melody that I'm convinced was stolen from Justin Bieber's One Time. The production isn't half bad and could have been used by someone more original and with a better voice to create a halfway decent bedroom cut, but Posner's emotionless, unrightfully cocky Ray J-esque mumblings are all we're left with. Darn.

Delta 1406 is the closest thing that resembles a halfway decent track and it would be low quality on just about any of his peers' albums. The main positive is that the bravado from most of the record is pushed aside in favor of actual honest lyricism that reveals a little bit about who Mike Posner is. He's not a caricature here and it's quite refreshing, but he's again by far the least interesting thing on his own song. His gravelly rasp works better with the darker production, but he has some good lines that don't have as much impact as they would have with someone who knew how to project feelings. When I saw Boyz II Men on the tracklist for this album, I immediately grew scared; I know the trio has been off the pop culture radar for more than a few years, but I didn't want them to come back on just anybody's record. Déjà vu is not the proper venue for them to return; aside from their trademark harmonies on the alright intro, they're relegated to digitized back-up vocalists. Let that sink in. Boyz II Men. Back-up vocalists. Singing about "messing that sh-t all up". As I pick up the pieces after my head explodes from that fact, I have to say that they put Posner to shame, as he sounds lost and even more painfully thin than he does on the rest of the album. On this rather obvious ode to friends with benefits, Posner doesn't come off as the dangerous bad boy that he thinks of himself as; Déjà vu is awkward, poorly written, and a hot mess. Save Your Goodbye sounds like two or three different songs fused together. I can respect trying different musical combinations, but there's no continuity. I immediately cringed at the parts with just a piano for obvious reasons, but upon a few other listens, I think it would have been nice to actually hear him not have a lot of cushy production to hide behind. He again has next to no presence on the track and whatever shred of genuine emotion was possible gets swept under the pulsating bassline, obnoxious layering, and random blips and bleeps to never be heard from again.

Mike Posner has created the worst album of the year (that I've heard) in a cakewalk. There may have been worse records on the surface, but they know they're bad and revel in their trashiness; Mike Posner takes himself a little too seriously considering his vocal "abilities", lyrical content, and overall demeanor. Amping up the douchebag level to 148, Posner just isn't a likable presence and never brings any semblance of life or charisma to these songs. I could handle it if he was deficient in one area but managed to pick it up in others; if he's not the strongest singer in the world (which he's not, as he sounds like Ray J and Justin Bieber had a child, that child had tonsil surgery and then decided to try a singing career immediately after), that's more than fine. Just give me a good melody, some catchy lyricism, something. Alas, Posner seems content with the kind of frat boy posturing and generic production that will make this album rightfully forgotten about by the end of the year. I mean, the man made Boyz II Men sound bad. Boyz II Men. Need I say more?

Kem's Intimacy: I'm Left Feeling Unsatisfied and Frankly, a Little Violated

2010-09-02T23:40:00.000-07:00

When done correctly, a ballad can be a song that makes an album. The best ballads are those that are subtle yet listenable, leaning heavy on the melody and drawing you in with an emotional connection. If you truly feel a ballad, it hits you right in the stomach and takes you to places that you may not want to go but are necessary to heal, learn, and reflect. They may be missing from today's radio scene for the most part, but ballads are an integral part of a musician's life and very rarely does one survive without them.

That being said, not all ballads are created equal. For every one that really packs a wallop (either through personal experiences or sheer magnitude of awesomeness), there are 100 that are plastic, empty, and insincere. For the most part, Kem Owens, Motown Records recording artist, sticks with the first type described, though less consistently on Intimacy: Album III. First single Why Would You Stay far outpaces the rest of the album as it has the type of complex vocal performance and penetrating sincerity that sticks with you, two traits that are absent on the other nine cuts. Adopting a bit more piano and lush strings, it's got a fully realized backdrop for Kem to break your heart on; it walks a pretty thin line between being lyrically regretful and cuckolded, mature and stodgy, but ultimately his vocal is convincing, textured, and the only time he really impresses on the album. A Mother's Love gets props for breaking up the subject matter a little bit, but it's a little boring and lyrically cliché (I hate songs that are general - I would have much preferred him to write about his mother). The sparse piano-only arrangement suits actually allows him some vocal breathing room, but he waits until about 85% of the song is over before getting out of this half-sang conversational tone that he uses for a good chunk of the album. That turns this from a presumably genuine song to a monotone snooze; it doesn't help that the only background music he gets sounds like music being played on the Weather Channel. If It's Love actually has a little bit of a groove to it and some additional vocals from Maurissa Rose that inject some life into the proceedings. Instead of sounding like a pale imitation of 70s soul, it's a slightly more authentic take on the genre, packed with fairly good vocal chemistry and a pretty universal theme. Kem's production choices make such a difference in terms of how his albums sound; this sounds like something he would sing, but he has actual presence here and the shimmery keyboards serve more as backdrop instead of as a guiding force on the record.

When I'm Loving You has some of the most laughable lyrical imagery that I've heard in quite a long time. With talk of loving on angel wings, morning rain, dreams come true, Santa Claus, carpet rides, rainbows, fairytales, and everything else you can imagine, it is the definition of saccharine, corny soul music. I had to laugh the first listen, as it sounds like a parody from some really bad Chris Rock movie that made $3.28 at the box office. It doesn't help that the production is this neutered, overly sanitized blend that removes any sort of personality, soul, or groove that the song might have had. Awful. Golden Days attempts to inject a little scatting into the mix, but it comes off too forced, especially since the song itself doesn't really sound very jazz-y. I would have been fine with Kem attempting a jazz track, but jazz this is not, considering the references to love raining from the stars, bandits, and flowers. To make matters worse, there's a jarring Jill Scott spoken word cameo that does nothing but drive home how poor the quality of this track is. If she had joined Kem on a true vocal duet, it could have been pretty stupendous, but Scott's delivery is overexaggerated and aren't that in synch with the rest of the song. Another wasted opportunity. Human Touch is about as sexual as Kem gets and you know what? It's easily the second best track here, at least in terms of overall vibe. The subject matter makes his whispery delivery a little more understandable, while the production actually has some steam to it and it sounds like the jazz song that Golden Days wishes it was. While there are some lyrically ridiculous moments (a garden full of pillows? Really?) and the length is obnoxious beyond belief (almost 6 minutes), it has enough going for it that it's worth a listen.

This album just depresses me. I was truly excited for Kem to come back after a 5 year hiatus and bestow some class onto my album collection; I enjoyed his first two releases and continuously sought out news on the progress of Intimacy. Instead of being some romantic quiet storm music with incredible vocals, this is a flaccid, self-indulgent collection of songs with mostly laughable lyrics and nothing really interesting to keep you listening. I knew this would be a mostly ballad/midtempo album, but you can make a ballad-heavy album without it being a good alternative to Benadryl. The vocal runs that he would have in past songs are mostly gone, replaced by this whispery tone that could have worked had the material been a little more interesting. He's never been a lyrical maestro, but Kem's voice has managed to save a lot of songs in his catalog. Here? Not so much.

30 Minutes of Bliss: Erykah Badu Breaks it Down and Tears It Up

2010-08-30T03:33:00.000-07:00

I admit that I'm kind of a lyric snob. While I've been known to bust out a trashy pop song every now and then, I take a lot of pride in a well written, honest song. To hear someone's emotional connection to the material and bear witness to their torment, love, and/or memories is often too beautiful an opportunity to pass up. As big a part as a strong melody or instrument choice play in the construction of a song, if there's not a decent lyric to hang my hat on, I tend to pass.

I Want You is one of the strangest songs I've listened to and that's what makes it so unique; almost 11 minutes long and captivating every last beat, it's informally structured in three acts, each supposed to be sexually related (the tentative beginning, the quicker and more self-assured middle/powerful climax, the peaceful ending). With such a long song, there's bound to be long stretches of pure instrumentation, but Badu fills the space with enough ad libbing that you wish she'd just start scatting over the jazz-y keyboards and shimmying bass. Back in the Day (Puff) feels like summer barbecue music, the type of easy-to-swallow goodness that provides the soundtrack to the sweltering months of the year. It has supreme amounts of nostalgic coolness to it, fusing a youthful carefree past with a knowing adult present to become a relatable piece of music. Though not everyone has indulged in the activities she alludes to, the vibe created by the handclaps and subtle keyboards is infectious and creative. The Grind will be on the minds of every hard worker out there, as this Dead Prez-assisted midtempo tells the tale of struggle, making a living, and fighting to survive with the type of textured production and stark truth that always inspires. Though Badu comes off as a guest on her own song (she needed a verse of her own) and the song ends a little abruptly, it's a solid addition to her catalog and something just different enough to make a difference.

With some heavy keys and cool production, Woo captures the essence of the record perfectly. She essentially says a whole lot of nothing and it's a mesmerizing four minutes of your time. It's almost hard to call this a song, as there's not much in the way of verses and a hook. Badu raps a little bit, sings a few bars, and mostly plays hype man on her own interlude-ish track, but it's enough to just lay back and relax to. Danger actually has a little bit of a thump to it with its foundation of fat horns, which provides a touch of energy to this mostly midtempo album. It's a little bit too long, but the production brings out some of Badu's hip hop leanings and the melody can be fiery in places. It's a whole lot of swagger and confidence, an area that Erykah excels in spades, which stands up with some of her best kiss off material. Love of My Life Worldwide, the sequel/remix to her Grammy winning duet with Common, is just a whole lot of throwback soul fun; featuring strong verses from Queen Latifah and Bahamadia (Angie Stone even flows a bit), it's an organic collaboration that only shares a few lines of melody with the original but that doesn't matter. Everybody's just having a good time, rhyming over the elastic bassline (it's almost disco-y but it's not corny) with the type of easiness that never fails.

Worldwide Underground may not be the greatest showcase for Badu's lyrics, but it's a dynamite album that captures the ambiance where she's most comfortable. While no song is that lyrically expansive, Badu says a lot in a concise manner and makes effective use of repetition. This is as close to a jam record as I have and it's atmospheric to the max; sexy, strong, and sinewy, it's a heaping helping of soul, funk, and hip hop as presented by a truly magnetic figure. Released as more of an appetizer in between albums than a full studio LP, Underground is Badu at her most relaxed, saying more with her silence than most utter in an entire album.

Now and Forever: It's Maxwell's World and I'm Just Living in It

2010-08-30T01:39:00.000-07:00

I admit it. I'm really picky when it comes to my romance music. Being the perfectionist that I am, it's hard to find the exact song or album for the more intimate moments of my life. You never want something to be ruined by the wrong mood being set, while actually finding the song can be a wonderful occurrence. Though I tend to love slow jams and quiet storm, it takes a lot to truly impress me.

Maxwell did that with 2001's Now, the follow-up to commercially and critically underwhelming Embrya. While that album was an abstract look at r&b, Now is a bit more of a traditional record, laced with luxurious falsettos and seductive melodies that the ever charismatic soul singer knocks out of the park on a consistent basis. One such revelation is W/As My Girl, possibly the sexiest break-up song I've ever encountered. Unless you're paying close attention, you may mistake this for one of the singer's silky ballads pledging his devotion, but you quickly find out that it's an especially resigned track about the end of a romance. Low key and almost muttered instead of sang, it's definitely a groove listen more than anything; you may not immediately recall the words, but the melody and entire atmosphere are quite notable. Silently picks up the pace a little bit, but it's still got the type of grounded romanticism and sincerity that Maxwell records typically have. All about letting your body do the talking, it has the slow whine of, say, TLC's Hands Up by way of Prince. Throwing in some muted trumpet to go along with the plodding bassline, it may not be the most ear catching of the lot, but if kept in your rotation can be a real treat. Temporary Nite has this extremely addictive strut to it that is deliciously throwback and breaks up any potential monotony; the 70s influences are much welcome, as the crunchy guitars and danceable bass will sear themselves into your brain and show yet another side to the versatile performer. The subject matter may not be anything new, but the presentation allows the extremely charming Maxwell to let his hair down and have some fun.

NoOne continues the trend of Nite, as it's this driving little ditty with light funk influences that is all about the one you can't seem to forget about. Less celebratory (it's still an introverted song, like most of the record) and more self-contained, its buzzing horns and slick guitars are reminiscent of something, say, present day Robin Thicke would kill to sing over and the melody is subtle but effective. Symptom Unknown sounds the most like something that could have also had a home on Embrya; oddly mystical with long instrumental breaks and wistful melody, Unknown is just a sad listen. You feel his pain with each long string of slightly garbled lyrics and moaned syllable, Maxwell's longing and desperation evident through the very tone of his voice. There may not be a hook or catchy section but this is artistic, thoughtful r&b in top form. This Woman's Work, Maxwell's cover of Kate Bush's 1989 original, will be one of the songs that people come to associate with him for years to come. Recorded for his stellar 1997 Unplugged album, it is everything I adore about r&b music; this is a classy, articulate break-up song that is in touch with true emotion and places sincerity above posturing. With a vocal that will bring tears to your eyes from how raw, honest and undeniably beautiful it is (it's almost all falsetto but is never shrieking or overly sang), Maxwell brings new dimensions and textures to the song without completely abandoning what made it good in the first place, the sign of a good cover song. Simply arranged with delicate strings and dreamy keyboards, it is immaculate in execution and a gem of its era.

While I enjoyed Embrya for what it was (and think it got unfairly criticized upon its release), Now is the type of music that Maxwell sounds at home on. He has the best falsetto of anyone working today and showcases it on intelligent, laidback soul music that never loses its touch of class. It's not the most artistically challenging record of all time, but if your night needs a little more steam, let Maxwell be the one to fog up your windows. Thank me later.

The Reason Why: Little Big Town Comes Back Strong

2010-08-26T15:52:00.000-07:00

After the commercial disappointment of their last album and the subsequent label change that resulted in a last minute re-release, Little Big Town was in a weird place. They had the critical clout and past remnants of commercial success, but it seemed as if radio had passed them by. Once seemingly the heir apparent to perennially platinum Rascal Flatts's spot as the top country group, Little Big Town was now simply fighting for any sort of attention they could find and looking to reclaim the respect that they were granted for The Road to Here.

It seems they may have found the magic again on The Reason Why, their just released fourth album that comes on the heels of a top 15 single and some pretty sizable critical buzz. To me, part of the buzz lies in creating a record that doesn't fall in line with what the typical country artist is doing these days. Songs like Lean Into It may pack a similar feel good message that other artists seem to live by, but instead of offering generic platitudes and blanket imagery, it's sincere, haunting, and refreshingly honest. With only an acoustic guitar to accompany them for a good chunk of the song, it showcases slightly rougher harmonies (more gospel-y than country) and packs enough realism in the succinct lyricism to really hit home. You Can't Have Everything finds the group experimenting with more traditional elements, something that sounds their sound quite well and a fitting place for them to go. It feels like something that Alison Krauss would sing, lilting melody, bittersweet chorus, and all. With the type of vintage production and punch-in-the-gut message of, say, Lee Ann Womack's There's More Where That Came From album, it's a true joy to listen to and a nice way to stretch their artistic muscles. Little White Church was the track that brought them back into radio's good graces and I couldn't be more thankful that it was embraced, as it sounds like nothing currently getting major play. Stylistically similar to their own Good as Gone (albeit a little lighter in tone), it's this really fantastic melding of front porch handclaps and bluesy guitars to illuminate the very sassy if-you-like-it-then-you-shoulda-put-a-ring-on-it message. It's got such an impressive strut to it that it's hard not to admire the group's left of center approach.

However, if you think this is a "screw you, Nashville" record, then you're sadly mistaken. The Reason Why has several tracks a bit more in tune with mainstream country, though the production has drastically been toned down. Why, Oh Why immediately reminded me of a LeAnn Rimes song, which isn't necessarily a bad thing. It may immediately sound like another swagger-filled uptempo in the same vein as Little White Church but it's less kiss off and more self-aware take on not being able to let someone go. It falls in line with the rock-heavy production of most singles nowadays, but it never goes overboard and drowns out the song, which differentiates it. It's not an album highlight but even the best albums have pretty decent filler now and then. One of the two co-writes from Lady Antebellum's Hilary Lindsey, Shut Up Train is nothing short of stunning. There's such a loneliness about it that grabs you right off and never lets you go; the lead vocal from Karen Westbrook is gorgeously sullen and almost makes you wish this was a completely solo track. The harmonies are, of course, nice, but hearing that voice with just a guitar would have been a tour-de-force. It's not a complicated song but it's a song that will hit a nerve and immediately conjures up some impressive imagery. Rain on a Tin Roof has the elements of a good song (excellent lead vocal, solid verses, pretty decent production) but there's something about it that I can't just get behind. I'm not sure if it's the fact that it's beside all these intriguing, musically progressive songs, but it just kind of sits there. The hook's a tad underwhelming and the harmonies are slightly too high for my liking; this is kind of like Shut Up Train in that it could have easily been a solo song or something similar. If the imagery would have been a little less obvious, I could have probably forgiven it, but it's just not that great of a song.

The Reason Why does something rather impressive; it manages to keep the core of who Little Big Town is together and slowly expands their sound without being cloying. Instead of being pigeonholed as the "Fleetwood Mac of country" or being defined by their group dynamic, they spread their wings a little bit and it works. They tend to avoid the pitfalls of their peers, as this feels like an organic set of stark ballads and forceful uptempos rather than a paint-by-numbers contemporary country album meant for the lowest common denominator. With toned down production, less homogenized harmonies, and the same fearless lyricism that has served them so well in the past, The Reason Why asserts itself as easily one of the best country albums of the year.

If It's Over, I'll Just Play It Again: Mariah Proves Her Doubters Wrong

2010-08-21T08:05:00.000-07:00

Like a lot of other things, I was too young to really grasp the sheer awesomeness that was MTV's Unplugged. While the channel may still put out specials in the same vein (Trey Songz was the latest artist selected to strip down their catalog), the magic just isn't there anymore. It may be due to the caliber of artist we're forced to deal with nowadays, but I have a feeling there will be no seminal releases that will come close to the impact of Eric Clapton's Grammy winning Unplugged, LL Cool J's groundbreaking take on his classics, or Nirvana's intimate affair that showed the softer side of front man Kurt Cobain.

In 1992, Mariah Carey became yet another artist to open up her heart and her catalog on the Unplugged stage; at the time, she was coming off seven consecutive top 5 singles (including 5 #1s), a Grammy for Best New Artist, and tons of record sales for the still blossoming 20-something. However, critics thought that her acrobatic vocals were a studio creation in a time that was still reeling from Milli Vanilli's revelation of lip syncing, so this was Carey's chance to silence them once and for all.

The main thing about the record that disappointed me was the fact that no song was reinterpreted, a'la Carey's infamous remixes from the latter part of her career. Granted, this was at a time when she was a young artist and she didn't necessarily have a lot of control over her career, but it would have been an interesting experiment. Songs like Someday and Vision of Love, the only two representatives from Carey's iconic debut, would have been better served with more than the slight melodic tweaks that they received. The prior song is less biting and more feel good/inspirational, thanks to the inclusion of some bouncy piano and cooing background vocals, which actually works in its favor. It's not the powerhouse that the studio version was (Carey's almost a supporting character on her own song), but its nice work. The latter, considered to be one of her signatures, feels surprisingly lush for being an unplugged rendition, thanks to some bluesy piano and soft strings. The last third of the song is chill-worthy as Carey unleashes only a hint of what she can really do; she kept it close to home, but with how strong the melody is and how easily she inhabits it, it's no wonder. Make It Happen sounds the least effected by the unplugging, as it retains the headstrong groove and straightforward vocal that made the original such a welcome addition to Carey's catalog. Granted, she gets lost a little in the background, but when she's front and center, she's got such a command of the song. It sounds like one of those songs played in a murky hole-in-the-wall club at 2am; it lacks that kind of grit, but the vibe is soulful and rawer than the studio version, a textured bit of motivation for even the most stubborn of minds.

Emotions was the perfect choice to kick things off because it's one of the most infectious singles Carey had released up until that point. With her whistle register crystal clear, this is a showstopper, as the song actually gains a little more grit with the loss of production. It was a very poppy little ditty with an extremely catchy hook (that managed to "youth up" Mariah a little), but the background vocals are spot on and Carey even develops a bit of a growl with some charming confidence. The only non-single present, If It's Over sneaks in some jazz tinges with the gospel elements that Carey has always sounded at home on (see: Fly Like a Bird, Vanishing, etc.), which makes for a stunning live performance. She gets to flex her vocal muscles a little more, both technically and emotionally, over some muted horns and steady percussion; it's a torch song, a singer's song, and something that is performed with remarkable ease. Stunning. A cover of a Jackson 5 song, I'll Be There became yet another #1 for Carey and breathed new life into a decades old classic. The most interesting thing about her interpretation, to me, is introducing another vocalist into the fray and hearing these lyrics from the eyes of a grown woman instead of a child. Friend and back-up singer Trey Lorenz more than holds his own with his few lines and Carey's confidence grows as the song goes on, resulting in a rapturous climax that still stands out in her catalog to this day. It's a positive, universal type of song that was the perfect way to close out the set.

It's been eighteen years since Unplugged and while you can never quantify the effect that it had on Carey's career, one has to realize that it had at least some positive ramifications. Though she was one of the biggest things in music at the time and had radio in her pocket, the voices of the critics were growing louder with each passing day, so to be able to show that she's the real deal eased any fears people had about her capabilities. It certainly helps that she performed the heck out of the material, offering up a sensational cover and differing the arrangements of her originals enough to show a real flair for the behind the scenes goings on of the music industry. Carey may not be at the same level that she was then, but one listen to Unplugged shows that she's by far one of the best to ever do it in her field and a true gem of pop/r&b.

The Band Hits a Little Turbulence: Little Big Town Comes Back Down to Earth

2010-08-19T01:04:00.000-07:00

When I get a little bit of success, I try my best not to get overly optimistic. Though I may present myself as a cynic, in actuality I'm as much of a hopeless romantic as anybody out there, so give me a little bit of hope and it can go a long way. The more I've grown, though, the more I've realized that one can put things in their proper perspective and still revel in your good fortune.

By 2007, Little Big Town was steadily becoming one of the premiere groups in country music. They had finally gotten a taste of the commercial success that had eluded them on their debut album and their music was respected by critics, revered by fans, and undoubtedly reveled in by the four rising stars. It was the perfect storm that simply demanded to be interrupted and interrupted it was.

The main aesthetic of A Place to Land seems to be how "throwback" the entire sound really is; it's as if 70s pop/rock, California, and modern country got together and had a very interesting looking child. Interesting in a good way, in a necessary way, but interesting nonetheless. The group had already been dealing with Fleetwood Mac comparisons and the vibe of the record sounds like something in-prime Mac could churn out, though there's enough personality to keep the record grounded. The story of a battered woman, Evangeline leans on the darker vocals the female members of the group (the vocally edgier members and the reason the group does brooding material well) and avoids the potential clichés a song like this can bring. Instead of this sweeping, maudlin paint-by-numbers ballad, you get hints of blues and a tough love lyric that feels more personal than let's-see-if-this-can't-relate-to-everybody chic. It has a positive message behind it but it dresses it up enough to where you're not rolling your eyes or feeling manipulated. Novocaine feels readymade for a concert; there's nothing inherently wrong with having big hooks and shout-a-long background vocals (you will be singing along by the end, so get ready), though, and it doesn't pander to get your attention. It may have the most instant effect on the album, but they sprinkle enough musically credible elements (subtle handclaps, driving guitars) to keep it from heading toward "too single-ish" territory. Confident and coyly flirtatious, it'll take a minute to really stick with you, but it's worth the wait. A Place to Land sounds like it could have been included on their last album, though the vocal production is a tad bit wonky on the verses. Once things get under control, it becomes this decently poetic ode to being lost and not knowing where things are going in one's life. Though it's a solid track overall (worthy of a listen) and the intentions are romantic, it feels a bit slight on all angles; the melody's a little too familiar, the imagery isn't as fresh as it could be, etc.

Lonely Enough just breaks your heart in the best way possible. Concerning the recoil from a death of a loved one, Lonely is painfully self-aware and delves into areas that resonate with anyone who has lost someone. The feeling of helplessness and pure ache is exquisitely captured, making this the type of record that almost hurts to listen to. With some hauntingly desolate harmonies and a melody that is wonderfully emotional, it's desperate and truly human, thoughtfully presented and a career record. On the other side of the spectrum is That's Where I'll Be, a wistful, desert-y love song about dedication and never ending support. It's not the sexiest or most innovative listen, but it's just executed so beautifully that you get swept away in the breezy melody and charming vocals. I've noticed that the guys in the group tend to handle the love songs, more than likely due to their friendlier, calmer tones (the women have fierier vocals that are less lovey dovey), making this extremely comfortable and tender. Vapor is one of several feel good road songs on the record, the type of song to put the top down to and belt along to. Lyrically it's a bit of a stale message that doesn't get a whole lot of life shot into it, though the intentions are positive and some of the imagery is impressive. Its sunny hook is a little deceptive but effective, as the actual song reads more downbeat without the immaculately layered harmonies and clean guitars massaging the words into what you see.

Whether it be the lack of a truly memorable first single, the crowded time of release, or simply the music world moving along without informing the group, A Place to Land didn't have near the same commercial impact as The Road to Here. It may have been a hit with critics and devoted fans of the band, but one false move with country radio and you're in the doghouse until your next album. Place took away a lot of the edge from The Road to Here and leaned heavier on the group's Fleetwood Mac influences that had been present on the previous two albums. It makes for an interesting study of their vocal dynamic and the 70s tint to the production actually brings out some beautiful texture to the material, but it's not as immediate of a record. However, stick with it and you'll assuredly find the beauty in the fury.

Letting Go, Moving On, Holding Tight

2010-08-18T13:22:00.000-07:00

As much flack as MTV and VH1 receive for their lack of music related programming, I have to admit that without them, I wouldn't have discovered a large portion of the artists that I listen to. I know, I extol the virtues of internet artist shopping in seemingly every review, but before I knew of all the wonders of the web, I was a huge You Oughta Know/You Hear it First aficionado. Carefully watching the various news segments that appeared in the final commercial break of the hour opened up a world of articulate lyricism, strong melodies, and true artistic strength.

I was introduced to Toby Lightman during an MTV News break in the early 2000s, ahead of the release of her debut album. I was immediately drawn to her style and jotted the name down. Though Lightman is now an independent artist (she has her own T Killa Records imprint), her music still gives me that same type of reaction, as her identity has yet to be compromised by the name of the company that employs her. Milk and Honey feels like mid-to-late 90s r&b, which is the style that suits Lightman's expressive voice the best. Laidback with a very easy delivery, it harkens back to some of her prior material without being a carbon copy. It may be a bit of a lyrical mixed bag, but it's an interesting piece of the record and shows yet another potential genre for the surprisingly versatile Lightman to slip into. I appreciate songs like Take My Hand more the older I get. As much as I enjoy a dramatic ballad or mindless uptempo, there's nothing like a simple love song with a pretty melody, which is Hand in a nutshell. There's nothing dramatic or too different about the song, but it's pleasant, breezy, and guaranteed to make you smile. It's the type of Stax-influenced midtempo that Sheryl Crow had on her most recent album, but Lightman is succinct, honest, and more comfortable in the style. I'm Gonna Break His Heart fits in with the current trend of 60s influenced soul music (this is more VV Brown than Amy Winehouse, though I could imagine Winehouse on here easily) and is probably the catchiest listen on the record. A brief burst of pace with a decent amount of sass, this is a kiss off song that's a complicated anthem for the inadvertent player; it has the strange ability to sound tongue in cheek and fully genuine in the same three minutes. Regardless of intent, it's a total earworm and a nice bit of tempo on a mostly midtempo album.

Let Go is a barer listen that's KT Tunstall-esque with the looser percussion and clap-heavy verses (it's in the same condominium as Black Horse and a Cherry Tree). Reliant on Lightman's attitude, it has this down home swagger to it that's rather infectious. This is the type of track that could have been too cutesy or lightweight without the proper vocal, but Lightman gives a little knowing wink with each flirty line. The track could have even benefitted from more scaled down production to make it have more of an immediate impact. So Natural has a feel good stroll to it that opens the record on such a positive note (in terms of energy); Lightman may be able to inhabit the darker material and make it have more depth than it originally would have had, but she simply beams on this barbecue-ready two-step. Golden toned and sounding like a vintage soul record, it's the type of music that may not be getting made as much these days, but that makes it presence that much more welcome. Lazy actually made me stop what I was doing to fully pay attention, as it explores jazz music with solid results. It feels more authentic that you would think since the vibe isn't that far off from what she normally sings. With some thick strings and howling background vocals, it sets the romantic atmosphere well. This isn't the most original topic in the world (it's about shutting the world out when you're with your significant other), but the presentation is deliciously vampy and slyly realistic.

Let Go may not be as heavily r&b tinged as her debut album, but that doesn't mean that Lightman is lacking in any type of soul. With a distinctive point of view and a whole lot of personality, the whimsical blonde brings forth nine tracks of love, indecision, and authenticity. Though I tend to like albums with a couple more tracks, Let Go feels extremely complete. I would love to see people like Toby receive the attention that they deserve, but hearing new music from her is reward enough. Now if only the music channels would follow up on their discoveries...

The Road to Success: Little Big Town Turns Into a Quality Act Before Our Eyes

2010-08-13T08:52:00.000-07:00

After their debut album went nowhere on the charts and their record label dissolved, Little Big Town was at a crossroads. Though 2002 was a much friendlier sales climate than 2005, trying to come back would be enough to break an average group. Fortunately, Little Big Town isn't average. After working day jobs to make extra money and touring to get their name back out there, the group signed to Clint Black's Equity Music Group and hooked up with Wayne Kirkpatrick to give themselves the musical makeover necessary to create the album to get them a strong hold in the industry.

On the strength of four top 20 singles, The Road to Here was just that, going platinum and making a name for the foursome. However, one look beyond the singles and it's obvious that cohesion and clarity were heavy on the group's mind in creating the record. You immediately notice the production differences on tracks like Live with Lonesome; what would have been a syrupy exercise in self-pity turns out to be a rather delicate, almost poetic ballad of resignation and sadness. It immediately put me in mind of something Alison Krauss would sing, as it's stripped, spiritual, and downbeat. However, it showcases how strong their harmonies had become (i.e. very) and you get to hear some subtle emoting without it ever becoming pitiful. Good as Gone is such an interesting song to listen to, as it strays outside what a typical song of this caliber would sound. Moody, slithering, and melodically stunning, it's like a blues song, a bluegrass song, and a country song had a child; all about texture and one of the meatier hooks on the record, it's a memorable piece of material that stays with you after the record has finished. Bones captures exactly the type of vibe that Little Big Town tends to have; it's like Fleetwood Mac spent a weekend in the backwoods south, the type of down home charm and immaculate harmonies (the arrangements on the record still blow me away five years later) that are prevalent throughout much of The Road to Here. It may start and finish leaning more toward finesse, but it's got smoldering, controlled aggression about it, which make it have that much more bite. It's easy to curse someone out, but to be able to creatively come at someone without losing your dignity is impressively southern. Bless their hearts.

Looking For a Reason strikes a balance between tracks like Bones and Live with Lonesome, helping with the cohesion of the record. While it may have the type of swagger that seems to permeate songs about independence, there's also a noticeable humanity to it and vulnerability to the lyrics. This isn't the type of I-don't-need-anybody-and-I'll-bash-my-ex-for-5-minutes song that it comes off as; listen closer and you hear the same type of self-doubt and longing for love as heard in Lonesome, a trait that grounds the song. Lost drops every bit of bravado and self-pity of the previous songs, opting to become a raw and honest look at the change that comes with the end of a relationship. Lyrically, some may think of it as a tad whiny, but I don't hear that; I hear someone obviously in pain and unsure what to do with himself (the group does a nice job of dividing lead vocals and this is one of the male-led songs). With some hushed background vocals, lonely steel, and solemn acoustic guitar, it's quiet and introspective, just the way it should be. Welcome to the Family isn't a bad song, per se, but it's just stale. For most of the record, the group manages to reinvigorate well tread topics and find distinct slants to take that haven't been used much in country music. However, this just piles on the clichés and stock imagery to make for a boring listen. Too often, the genre falls into the trapping of listing familiar things in a song or trying to stay as everyman as possible and this song is no different. Whether it be daddy with a shotgun or talk of preachers and sheriffs, it tries to take on the closeness of a small town, but the song just limits itself.

The Road to Here feels much more authentic than the group's debut album. Whereas Little Big Town was bright, shiny, and clean, The Road to Here takes more chances and roughs things up just a bit, allowing the tremendously tight harmonies to be center stage for a vast majority of the material. There's some actual edge to the music and you don't see the smiling popstars that you saw on album number one. Instead, you get a much more candid, honest look at who Little Big Town is, a span of 13 tracks that deals heavily in the melancholy and themes of solitude. The Road to Here may have hooked people for the success of the singles (most notably swamp-country ode Boondocks and tender Bring it on Home), but it showed country music fans that change isn't necessarily a bad thing, especially when your career is on the line.

Complexity Soothes My Soul: Maria and Her Different Debut

2010-08-10T14:17:00.000-07:00

My trips to the record store have been pretty epic in the past, I have to say. Though I've toned it down dramatically from my early days as a music fan, in the time before I heavily researched what albums to buy, I was the definition of an impulse buyer. I tried to stick mostly to singles and discovered a handful of pretty decent artists in the process, but I would pick up just about any record in the store as long as the cover looked like something I would like and I had heard about the artist in the past.

I found Maria's album My Soul in my local Wal Mart and immediately snatched it up. I had read a couple of mini-reviews and saw it in the "New Artist" section of FYE's website (my then-foolproof way of discovering new artists), so I was fairly confident that it would be something in my musical wheelhouse. Little did I know that some six years later, I would continue to go back to it when the musical landscape wasn't exciting me enough.

Intoxicated isn't the raucous party jam that you would think from the title; instead, it's a serene, romantic ballad with light classical elements interspersed. With a hook that's kind of trip-hop meets the violin, it takes you off guard but its subtle melody and luxuriously rich vocals comfort you just the same. Dreamy and exotic, it's well produced and a classy exercise in how to execute a slow jam. Always is a little darker than the previous track with a weightier bass and a less flow-y melody, but it's still spellbinding. Maria's vocals are a nice contrast to the slightly ominous production and there are enough signature blips and boops to keep the central vibe of the record in tact. While the musical coda at the end is a little long, it gives you a closer look at some stellar production, even becoming more stripped and turning the strings up to sound more like the interlude. Hate to Love You feels a little more straightforward and mainstream, a song that probably could have been released had I Give, You Take been successful. It's less flashy than some of the other tracks on the record, as there are no bells and whistles to report. Bass-heavy and adequately tormented, it's whimsically pensive and the type of self-reflection that is featured prominently on My Soul.

You, Me, and She tells the tale of a broken relationship with a more pop/rock ambiance than a good chunk of the record. One listen to the somber hook and you hear how the song really transcends the bounds of genre; if you would have given the song to a singer-songwriter, it wouldn't lose any effectiveness. It's not so far removed from the rest of the album as to completely stick out, but it's the type of gradual shift in sound that reveals another side to the artist. Coffee in Bed is just sexy. Though I generally find songs built around a metaphor to be pretty weak, this is one of the exceptions, a slow grinding (eek, here I go with the puns) midtempo whose sensuality overcomes any cringeworthy lyrics. The song is just whispery and confident, reverting back to the type of trip hop-ish vibe that I find Maria sounding more comfortable with. With a bass that sounds ripped straight from early 90s r&b and some intermittent strings, it's yet another sonically beautiful track. Wistful and honestly kind of sad, Nowadays is all about losing touch with someone and having them cross your mind. It's more atmospheric than a lot of the tracks, featuring a mumbling vocal and space-y effects, but it's nonetheless extremely enjoyable. One of the things that runs through the entire record is how strong the arrangements are and Nowadays is no different. It's melodically sublime with a thoughtful edge to it that just shines.

Maria Jensen may not be a household name in 2010 (she's not been heard from in, more or less, six years), but My Soul makes a brilliant case as to why that's a shame. It takes the r&b genre and flips it around to get another perspective; you'll hear light elements of classical music, electronic music, and even a touch of rock music on Jensen's debut album and it's as intriguing of a mix as it sounds. Vocally pure and lyrically raw, it's one of the most consistent, sonically satisfying albums that I have in my collection and remains just as relevant of a listen more than half a decade later. In a stale musical environment that seems content to recycle the same guest artists, producers, and motifs, My Soul would be a good purchase to rediscover your love for the genre and to discover the many shades and hues that r&b can have.

Little Big Town Definitely Wasted My Time With This

2010-08-07T12:05:00.000-07:00

Everyone has bad things associated with high school that they really don't want to relive. Whether it be an awful yearbook picture, a public embarrassment, or a tragic loss of your best friend, high school tends to have negative stigma attached to it. No matter if you're the captain of the football team or the 3rd string member of the chess team, you will have a few cringe inducing stories to tell later on when reminiscing about the time with your friends, loved ones, or fellow classmates.

Granted, Little Big Town wasn't in high school in 2002, but their debut album will undoubtedly be a low point on their musical résumé by the time their career has finished. Signed to Monument Records (former home of the Dixie Chicks), the group had pretty mediocre success thanks to this indistinctive, sheen-y collection of pop-friendly material. Stay, a song that was re-recorded for the group's second album, isn't perfect but it looks like Imagine compared to most of the material here. There are production/mix issues here that were worked out on version number two, but here they are distracting. When it is supposed to soar, it just kind of flattens out, the production taking center stage instead of the complex harmonies. The melody is beautifully composed and their songs are typically well arranged, though, so there are little nuggets to enjoy here. Tryin' may be trite and maudlin, but I'll be darned if it's not the ear candy of the album. You won't remember it 10 minutes later but it's a very pleasant account of running away from home to be a big star and struggling to find yourself. I think this type of song is usually pandering for an established group, but I like hearing a new group connect with their journey to the record studio, so it feels personal and a little chunk of self-reflection on an otherwise bland disc. A Thousand Years sticks out pretty obviously on Little Big Town. It's by far the highlight of the disc, though it doesn't come close to their later material and doesn't really stick to your ribs. Nonetheless, it's a well composed, balanced effort worthy of a foot tap and a few repeat listens. Vocally focused with a fairly flexible melody, it's not quite as romantic as it thinks, but it still has some heart and a noticeable sincerity.

Pontiac falls short in every area; on the initial listen, it sounds like a fairly decent anthem of moving on after dealing with a lying loved one, but every element of the song is just anemic and fails to distinguish this from the other seven thousand songs of its ilk. With an obvious metaphor (guess how big the lies are?), inconsistent at best production (it seemingly fades in and out while almost literally straddling the line between pop and country), and a truly faceless overall sound, it's not the proper track to introduce the album. From This Dream may have some of the strongest vocals on the album and deviate a little from the expected, but this odd Ireland-meets-the-southwestern-United-States (trust me) ballad never really gels. The peaceful atmosphere is a definite positive, drawing more attention to the group's sterling vocals, but the song just sounds like it's overdone. Strip a few of the elements away (too many fiddles/guitars), make it more simple, and you really have something here. Somewhere Far Away is just a tired listen. Honestly, you can just preview the first ten to fifteen seconds and you have the entire song in a nutshell. There's nothing fresh, innovative, original, or particularly moving about yet another song concerning being cooped up in your current area and needing to be free. I understand that it's a relatable topic, but Little Big Town makes every expected choice you can imagine here.

While Little Big Town's debut album isn't all that great, the seeds for what they would become are planted. The harmonies and cohesion that they have been known for are present in spades; it just took the material a little bit before catching up. It seems that the production choices and lyrical content were more about trying to fit into the musical landscape of 2002 than expressing any sort of personality, as evidenced by the complete shift in sound for the proceeding three albums. I'm appreciative of this album, not for its quality, but due to the fact that it let the group get its foot in the door and showed the country music scene that they were better than they were showing. While Little Big Town gives a clearer picture of who the group was, is, and will be, it's not an essential buy and should be looked at as more of an embarrassing relic from their youth and not as a statement of their artistic capabilities.

A Look at Britney Spears Through the Eyes of Team Christina’s Former Ringleader

2010-08-04T08:03:00.000-07:00

Lights...

Camera...

Action...

Imagine your life was being filmed 24 hours a day, seven days a week. Every move you make is captured by cameras and there's no way to escape them. You won't be able to quit your job, as it makes them hungrier and the potential collateral damage of seeking a mere photograph of you would be enormous. Everything from the clothes you wear to how you handle your children to even the expression on your face is picked apart mercilessly, as the microscope zooms closer and closer with each passing year. Now, imagine putting up with this while battling substance abuse and a mental disorder.

This is what Britney Jean Spears, pop culture lightning rod and princess of pop, has went through since her mid-teens when she exploded onto the music scene, helping to usher in the teen pop movement. With a belly baring t shirt and a wiggle of her hips, she became the heir apparent to Madonna's throne, seemingly trying to emulate the material girl's flair for transformation, catchy dance tracks, and elaborate performances. The wheels came off in the latter part of the last decade, capped off with multiple stints in rehab, the threat of losing her two children, and her image taking a pummeling.

However, with 2008's Circus, Spears gets a chance to fight back and rectify her image. The first album released since she defeated some of her public demons, it's got moments of introspection not seen from Britney since the growing-pains-set-to-music In the Zone. Kill the Lights and Circus aggressively tackle the topics of paparazzi, fame, and life as a grown-up teen queen to pretty positive results. They go about it in different ways, as the first could sound at home on Blackout with its confident thump (it's like Gimme More's second cousin once removed) and the latter is a track that takes control back from "the machine" and using it to boost her own reputation. I'm not usually a fan of the "ooh, I'm famous, my life is so hard" tracks but Spears's take on it hit a little differently. On Lights, you feel her frustration with each exasperated growl, the sarcastic lyricism surprisingly biting. No matter what you feel about Spears and her music, she tends to shine in the club scene, so the almost cinematic Lights stands out immediately. The self-aware title track is a little more accepting of her role as America's pop star, using the semi-obvious metaphor to craft a solid dance track. It's a little smoother and has more of a strut to it, as a fairly decent sounding Spears delivers one of the best singles of her career. While the previous tracks were a little more glamorous, Blur recalls some of the rougher times of the previous couple of years for Spears, a smoky midtempo that puts me in mind of some of the better work from In the Zone (most specifically Early Mornin'). Not requiring a lot vocally, it's all about the ambiance and the constant refrain of I gotta get my head right, which is almost a commentary on her state of mind as much as it's a commentary of her state in the song. While also being one of the best listens on the record, it's extremely sobering and a testament to how far she's come.

Mmm Papi is just awful. Spears has recorded some pretty atrocious album filler in the past (E-Mail My Heart, The Hook-Up, Dear Diary), but this certainly ranks right up there. With an intro that recalls Turning Japanese from The Vapors, it's this odd little candy coated uptempo made up of a whole lot of gibberish. I don't know if it's the fact that it just stands out so much against the rest of the album, but Britney Does Nu Wave isn't the best listen in the world. I appreciate that she's trying something, but it seems more like a studio outtake or a B-side than an album track. I simply cannot unleash the venom that most people have at My Baby, despite its obvious deficiencies. Written about her children (a'la Someday (I Will Understand)), it's probably the most honest I believe we've heard Spears and that's not to be taken lightly. It shows some intriguing vulnerability that she seems to only let out in pockets or end-of-the-album throwaways, something I would love for her to explore. She obviously doesn't have the vocals to do anything too big or expansive, but it helps you get to know her a little more and I respect any artist that does that. The production is a little muddled for how thin everything is, but it has a certain charm about it. Out from Under would have been such a better song had someone else sang it. It's actually a fairly nifty little pop/rock ballad (with a gorgeous climax) sans Spears's performance, but she just doesn't have the emotional heft to be able to carry anything other than a really stripped down ballad. Her voice isn't as much of an issue on this album as, say, Blackout, but it neutralizes what impact the song could have had and makes it worse in response. I like to see her do ballads because she's made some good choices in the past, but they need to be scaled back and kind of tailor made for her. Any other way and everything overwhelms her and she just kind of idles instead of flourishes.

If there's one positive thing that I can say about Circus, it's that it reminds us that Britney Spears is human above all else and sometimes that gets lost in the paparazzi obsessed culture that we live in today. While I consider Blackout, Spears's previous release, to be the superior album, I find some value in Circus and am curiously awaiting her follow-up album. Spears sounds interested and alert again, pushing away the robo-skank persona that dominated Blackout; she's replaced with a more realistic look at what it is to be a famous woman in your mid 20s. I can't recommend the album, though, as welcome as this change may be. It has too many weak lyrical moments and flat out boring production that keep it from being a true winner, as intriguing as parts of it may be. In the reality show that has become Britney Spears's life, Circus would be the disappointing third season, a palette that you need to take ideas from but simply rebuild.

Cut...

E=MC2 Doesn't Add Up To a Fruitful Post-Comeback Attempt For Mariah

2010-08-01T11:51:00.000-07:00

2005 was a wonderful time to be a Mariah Carey fan. After a few years in the pop culture doghouse, the legendary songbird finally put it all together. Once the target of jokes concerning Glitter and her expanding waistline, Carey put together a year that many artists can only dream about. Not only did she gain her reputation back as one of music's premiere vocalists, but her chart success was astounding. Carey delivered the song of the decade (We Belong Together) and the biggest selling album of the year (The Emancipation of Mimi, considered one of her best albums), all the while looking as polished, put together, and in control as she had in several years. Once the album finally ran out of steam, there was only a question of what she would do next.

Unfortunately, this turned out to be "try to copy everything that happened in 2005 and pray that lightning strikes twice", an approach that is as foolhardy as it is condescending. Instead of pushing herself even further than she did the previous go around, it seems as if Carey and her handlers simply took the tracklist of her last album and tried to remake it song-for-song. While a lot of the material here isn't that bad, it's just stale and a disappointing follow-up to such a powerful record.

Cruise Control sounds like Shake It Off sped up just a bit, there are worse songs it could ape, but still, it has that same type of laidback bounce. The only things that separate the two songs are Mariah's curious use of a (surprisingly not painful) Jamaican accent for a few lines and an all-too-short cameo from Damian Marley, interesting choices from Carey that could be explored and expanded upon in future albums. I'm sure there were wonderful intentions behind Bye Bye, but when you're responsible for the longest running number one in hot 100 history, you don't make a song remotely resembling it in the future. This just plays like an awkwardly written, lifeless (ha) sequel to One Sweet Day; Carey has done other "tribute" songs since Day but they've been more personal (i.e. Sunflowers for Alfred Roy). I think my main problem is how manipulative it is, using Carey's father to kind of set up the "this is for my people who lost somebody" refrain. I Wish You Well is probably the most eloquent "hater" song I've ever heard; instead of being combative and aggressive, Carey is calm, thoughtful, and understanding. It loses a lot of points for following Fly Like a Bird as being the quasi-religious end-of-the-album song, as well as the slightly patronizing quoting of bible verses, but this is as much a showcase for her voice as just about anything she's done in years. With just a piano, you hear that while her voice may not be flawless anymore, it's got more character behind it and makes for a more interesting instrument.

Mariah decided not to work with Jermaine Dupri on her most recent album and after his work on E=Mc2, I'm elated at that fact. While he and Carey have always had strong chemistry and the ability to make timeless hits, things have grown stale, judging by Love Story and Last Kiss. They're extremely interchangeable ballads that have next to no personality and melodies that just meander around. The first is the better of the two, its noticeable knock a little more interesting than whatever the heck Last Kiss is doing. It needed another few edits and a Red Bull injection because it's such a flat song, though, as said knock is truly squandered. The second sounds like a track from someone who listened to We Belong Together obsessively for months and decided to make a track of their own like that. It's as faceless as it is motionless, busily produced and extremely bland.

First heard in a commercial for one of Carey's perfumes, For the Record makes my list as one of her greatest songs ever. A lush, unorthodox ballad that finally shows some growth, it's lyrically sublime, containing some references to her past material, and wholly emotional. Some choppy strings and twinkling keys help to set the ambiance and Carey's pensive vocal drives everything home. I should hate Migrate. I really should. It's got touches of autotune, a T-Pain feature, and some really vapid lyrics. But my goodness, it is ear candy of the highest order. Oozing personality and confidence, it's the song that really should have been released as a single, its infectious hook and thudding bass perfect summertime fun. Carey may not blow you away vocally but she glides through the track pretty effortlessly. If you ask me what track on the record sounds most like a Mariah record, I'd say the disco-fied I'm That Chick, only due to how carefree it is and how lyrically "her" it is. Seemingly custom made for a hot night of rollerskating, this glittery uptempo manages to capture Carey's youthful exuberance without being cloying. It sashays and twirls with the best of ‘em, a bit of breezy energy that feels strangely authentic.

E=Mc2 isn't a total lost cause, as there are several moments that show impressive artistic growth for Carey. Sadly, they're surrounded by carbon copy attempts at past songs, lots of autotune/truly unnecessary guests that detract from the song they're on, and some of the most boring, melodically stagnant material of her career. Despite the criticism that Carey seems to accrue with each passing year, her creativity and generally strong songwriting are some of her biggest strengths, so if she's not utilizing it to the fullest extent, things go downhill quickly. She's just capable of so much more than she presents on the album, several minor examples not withstanding. As it appears, this is the worst album that Mariah Carey has ever presented, a sinkhole in between two mighty mountains (Mimi and Memoirs of an Imperfect Angel) in her mid-career renaissance. But hey, at least we got a clever title out of it, right?

When Going Independent Goes Right: Tamia and Her Creative Revitalization

2010-07-23T13:57:00.000-07:00

Independent record labels scare me. When an artist I like goes from a major to an indie, it tends to fill me with mixed emotions. On one hand, independent labels are a better situation for the artist, as they're guaranteed a larger portion of the profits from their album and they tend to have more freedom in how they record. However, with a lower budget and a shrinking marketplace, there may not be enough room for many independent labels, causing a shift to a small label to produce a decreased visibility.

Following a much delayed third album that saw modest sales, Tamia went from Elektra Records to Image Entertainment in 2006. While Mrs. Grant Hill was never a blockbuster album seller or mainstream entertainer, she's a fairly well known name in r&b circles and could have simply vanished without a mainstream budget behind her.

But vanish she didn't. On the strength of two top 30 r&b hits and a lot of positive press, Between Friends managed a rather respectable sales number and saw a notable increase in quality on the artistic side of things. Love & I is probably the biggest leap forward for the veteran vocalist, as it's mature without being stodgy, adult without alienating younger listeners. I'm usually not a big fan of the epic end-of-the-record ballad (unless you're Erykah Badu), but this just works to perfection. Intelligently written commentary on love is hard to find sometimes, so to hear it against such a lush background and performed so expressively is magnificent. It may be a little dramatic for some, but it's a pure joy to listen to. First single Can't Get Enough capitalizes on Tamia's ability to make the most sensual material retain a certain amount of class. It's a lot of finesse, but it's handled well, as Tamia's whispery coos bring the lyricism to life. The main thing that I enjoy about this album is that it's never that obvious and this song is no exception; "slow jams" can sometimes be a little ham fisted, but Can't is sly, seductive, and infinitely repeatable. When a Woman eschews the first person-heavy slant of the record for a storytelling approach, a subtle change that keeps the record fresher. It's a little lowkey, as the tone of the song isn't unique, but the way it's handled makes this break-up ballad that much easier to handle. One of the positives about the record is that it takes typical topics and turns them around, either through lyrical interpretations or Tamia's vocal choices, which is possibly one of the side effects of being independent.

Too Grown for That may have the sound of "trying too hard", but trust me when I say that the execution is truly effortless. Taking a clap-heavy club-ready beat to dismiss an immature suitor, Tamia has never sounded more confident and in control. The thump of the track may pull you in, but the self-assured delivery and frustrated lyricism manage to keep your attention. It may be one of the only real uptempo tracks on this midtempo-heavy collection, but it never sounds like she's trying to be something she's not. People in her peer group sometimes use an uptempo to "appear younger", but this is an appropriately produced uptempo with a good message. Sittin' on the Job never fails to bring a smile to my face, whether it be the gorgeously stripped down production or Tamia's lighthearted delivery. If there were any doubt about her ability, this song should squash that, as she's only accompanied by a guitar and some really sparse claps. Appropriately romantic and dreamy, it's a bit short, so it's more of a transition between songs, but a wonderful one nonetheless.

Please Protect My Heart has that type of laidback 70s bounce to it that just fits in with the warm summer weather. The record tends to have a pretty good equipoise in terms of Tamia's sound; in the past, she's either been a really stuffy adult contemporary wannabe or tried to fit herself into the young, sexy hip pop singer mold, neither of which she is. Songs like Please capture everything that's positive about her presence, i.e. the ease in which she sings, how pure her sound is, and her ability to bring a certain amount of vulnerability to even the strongest of songs. A cover of Aretha Franklin's Daydreaming works as solid album filler but it's nothing that stands out. It has a bit of a disjointed sound, which makes it hard to listen to sometimes, but this paean to the one you love is richly sang with such a joyful melody that it's hard to dislike it. It's one of the tracks I listen to least on the record, just because it doesn't go down as easily as the rest, but I still appreciate yet another tender midtempo. Me has a neat little twist that changes the song from a slightly sordid eyebrow raising tale to a positive affirmation of independence. You may think you've heard every different approach possible for a song like this but trust me when I tell you that this is a truly original way of approaching the topic of acceptance and strength. With finger snaps a'la Officially Missing You and some flat out pretty guitar work, it's a listen that's empowering without slapping you across the head with its message.

Going independent seems to be the best thing for the mother of two. Not only is this her best album since her debut in 1996, it sold better than expected and showed that she still has a presence on radio. Eschewing rent-a-rappers and club tracks for assured uptempos and sensual ballads, Between Friends is mature, thoughtful, and relevant. Though slightly overlong with some unnecessary interludes, it's mostly interesting material presented from one of the genre's more underrated vocalists. With a long delayed live album and collaboration with Deborah Cox and Kelly Price (dubbed the Queen Project) both due soon, the next solo album from Tamia is a little up in the air. Regardless of when it is released or where it's released, I know that it'll be another captivating release from the mild mannered mama from Ontario.

Sugarland Spreads the Love on Their Inconsistent Third Effort

2010-07-21T11:17:00.000-07:00

Now that Brooks & Dunn have "retired", it seems as if Sugarland have become the heir apparent to the top country duo crown. Granted, the twosome of Jennifer Nettles and Kristian Bush have been sharply rising in popularity in their half decade career, transforming from regular working class trio on their underrated debut (and best album of their career) to a glamorous stadium filling act with a strong presence on radio. However, with that extra presence comes extra pressure, as each successive album has piled on more and more clichés and gimmicky tunes in favor of quality music.

There's still a little bit of "old" Sugarland left in the tank, however, as Love on the Inside, released last July, shines brightest when the tempo slows down. What I'd Give has little bits of blues embedded into the delicate guitars and sturdy drums that show another side to the duo that is quite becoming. Nettles's drawl and smoldering presence serve the song well, giving it an extra bit of texture that the impressive melody deserves; it simply wouldn't work as well had someone else performed the song. It's vulnerable, subtle, and should be one of the tracks they take from the record to serve as a basis for their upcoming fourth album. Keep You reminds me of Stay, arguably the duo's signature song to date. Stark and oh so emotional, it sounds like a Lee Ann Womack song circa 2005 with that kind of "desperate housewife" mentality presented in the smothered lyrics. It works better on the mostly acoustic first couple of minutes than the explosive hook but is a truly naked listen nonetheless. Keep You may not have reached the gut wrenching lows of Stay but this is one of their more genuine listens. I have to give a lot of props to Very Last Country Song for being such a creative way to comment on the genre. Told through the eyes of an older woman looking back to the past, it takes a topic that could have caused some serious eye rolling and truly turns it on its head. With its still serenity and touching ambiance, it's an affecting listen that is completely sold by Nettles and her nuanced performance. A lot of songs about country music are really ham fisted and obvious, but Very Last has the intelligence and respect for the genre to present it for its universal themes and not the polarizing aspects.

I ended up getting the deluxe edition that was released the actual first week the album was out instead of waiting six months and then tacking on an additional track. Instead, I got five songs and, honestly, they could have been placed on the real record and replaced some of the lesser tracks. Life in a Northern Town features Little Big Town and Jake Owen and was a surprise hit for the three artists. A cover of the song by The Dream Academy from the mid 1980s, this is one of those nostalgia songs that actually have a lot of heart to it as opposed to being manipulative and condescending. There are seven people on the song and they all mesh so well; the song never sounds bloated and the lead vocals are spread throughout the ensemble. Operation: Working Vacation is a song that would normally irritate me but it's too infectious to dismiss. With some 60s beach tinges that are intriguing, it differentiates itself on the record quickly, a working man's anthem that extols the virtues of sunshine and letting go once in a while. It's nothing substantial and will merely go down as a footnote of a footnote on Sugarland's career biography, but it's a pleasant, happy song that's perfect for a summer mixtape.

However, for all the wonderfulness of those three tracks (and the surprisingly solid deluxe tracks), we still have some tracks that needed to step their game up. It Happens just feels like a big stereotype. From the laundry list of bad things that can happen to you in a day told in a rose-colored glasses kind of way to the abhorrently immature hook (add a shhhhhh and a pause before saying the title), it's everything that country music shouldn't be. The tempo helps its listenability in terms of being catchy and pretty instantly hummable, but when you realize the weirdly pessimistic message (there's no "but it's okay, you can make it!" moral to the story) and the generic sound, it makes it that much worse. We Run just doesn't register with me whatsoever, which is its main fault. It's just kind of there, the most obvious album filler on Love on the Inside. Granted, the faux bluegrass instrumentation has a little bit of potential, but the melody just idles and some of the lyrical imagery is a little tired. I'm all for songs about getting the heck out of dodge and starting anew (a topic that country music covers fairly frequently), but they don't approach the topic in any new way. It's pleasant but you'll forget Run is on the album by the time the next song starts. Already Gone may do the whole "I've got to get out of this town" theme better than the previous song but it's still nothing special. It sounds too much like an outtake from their first album instead of a natural progression from their early days. I prefer older Sugarland music but I want them to take that essence and put it in a 2010 context. If you've heard a Sugarland song before, you've pretty much got this song covered, honestly.

I'm not going to sit here and say that I hate the last Sugarland studio album and that I've completely written them off as a viable duo. I am, however, a little concerned as the originality and quality of each record have shrunk as their commercial success has risen. I don't begrudge anybody doing well; I just wish that the Sugarland from 2004 was still present in some form or fashion in 2010. Love suffers from inconsistency and moments of being extremely bland, as they slide in songs that feel like retreads of past material and fit the current mold as to what Nashville wants their stars to sound like. When Nettles drops the accent (and subsequently the façade), it makes the record that much better, especially on such intriguing (at times) material. It's not perfect (it's barely passable, honestly), but this record has enough love in its heart to be worth at least a few individual downloads.

Queen Latifah's Trav'lin' Light: When Being Good at Almost Everything Just Isn't Enough

2010-07-17T07:46:00.000-07:00

I tend to get jealous when I'm around people who can do it all. You know the ones: they go to school, work, take care of their children, volunteer, have extracurricular activities, and still find the time to sleep somehow. Not only that, but they're pulling a 3.8 with well behaved children, a loving relationship, and never really seem to be too tired. It makes you (and by you, I mean me) feel a little extra lazy upon complaining about the one thing you had to do today or that they messed up your order at Wendy's.

Queen Latifah is a busy lady. Between her career as one of the founding ladies of hip hop, an Academy Award nominated actress, a producer, a voice over artist, a spokesmodel, and presumably President of the United States (because what else hasn't she done?), the one they call Dana Owens somehow managed to sneak in a jazz career. And you know what? She's pretty darn great at it.

Originally included on the Hairspray soundtrack, I Know Where I've Been feels like a punctuation mark on this part of Queen's career. A stirring bluesy torch song with some gospel-tinted background vocals, it's a mature bit of self-reflection and pensive dreaming. For being such a powerful ballad, it's all about Queen's palpable confidence, one of her most notable positive traits, and gives you a personal touch on a covers album. Impressive. Quiet Nights of Quiet Stars showcases a more delicate side of Queen, as the first minute or so is a velvet-y acoustic ballad that fades into a truly lush instrumental break. With her vocal capabilities, you would think she's pull a Christina Aguilera and just riff the entire time, so it's appreciated to hear a kind of slow burning subtlety in her tone. Built for a candlelit slow dance with the one you love, it's classy and coyly romantic.

Just because this is Latifah's second album of jazz covers doesn't mean there can't be a little tempo and flashes of personality. How Long (Betcha Got a Chick on the Side) is all about the strut and the sort-of-but-not-really rapped hook. Though it's one of Queen's least impressive vocal performances on the album, she makes up for it in delivery and puttin' some "stank" on it, so to speak. This is probably the most "expected" listen, as it emphasizes Queen's ability to be the sassy independent woman, a role she's played more than once in her film career. It's catchy and infinitely entertaining, but it's simply pleasant as opposed to being stunning. I'm Gonna Live Til I Die just explodes when it first comes on but eventually settles into a drum heavy sprint that extols the virtues of living life to the fullest. The arrangement may seem a little messy, but it's just that there's a lot going on and it takes a few listens to really make sense of everything. With some frenzied horns and rapid fire drumming, it's seemingly built for a live performance, a guaranteed crowd pleaser. I Love Being Here With You feels a little more good natured and flirty than the previous two selections, which is a nice little tweak in sound. Queen can do sassy and strong quite well, but to hear her give such a smiling performance that makes the imagery from the song come alive is a pleasure, to say the least. You can tell she has fun on this unabashedly celebratory little burst of energy and that manages to spread to the listener. It's one of songs where you just can't stop singing along and moving in your seat. Trust me, I shimmy like the rent's due tomorrow and I have next to no rhythm.

What Love Has Joined Together is a song that I should be head over heels for but manages to be a middle of the pack performer. Queen sounds typically passionate and committed while the lyricism is honest; the track itself just isn't as interesting as it could be. It crosses from being a poised jazz-ish ballad to a song you listen to when you're on hold with the bill collector, which is a shame. A few different production choices and this could have been a strong addition to an already worthy album. Gone Away may be a tad long and unmemorable when looking at the entire record, but within the confines of the record, it's enjoyable. Not every track has to have a single-quality hook, so I'm not complaining about that; this is just one of those songs where, after you get through listening to the record, you have absolutely no idea what it sounded like. Granted, the melody is pretty and the track really shines when Queen just gets to ad lib, but there's nothing there to keep pulling you back.

If I had to name my favorite celebrity, it would probably be Queen Latifah. She seems to be the type that doesn't put on airs for the camera and doesn't try to be something she's not and it shows; on just about any other celebrity I can think of, a jazz album (or two) would be about the most disingenuous move possible. However, between Latifah's "real" personality and the execution of the project, there's no reason she couldn't hang up the mic and just focus on becoming the next great jazz vocalist. She's a wonderful song interpreter whose acting skills come in handy on this material; she can be bubbly and exuberant just as easy as she can be sensual, passive, or thoughtful. Trav'lin' Light has a nice amount of variety and doesn't take the lazy approach of covering just the songs that the average joe would know. If there's any benefit to a covers album, it's to educate the listener and Latifah does just that. What next, Queen? Juggling?

Sarah McLachlan's First Trick Should Be To Make These Songs Come to Life

2010-07-15T00:09:00.000-07:00

In 2003, the Tampa Bay Bucs defeated the Oakland Raiders to win their first Super Bowl. The Governator was sworn into office, Saddam Hussein was captured, and Beyonce was on top of the music industry with her solo debut. It was also the last time that Sarah McLachlan released a proper studio record in multi-platinum Afterglow. While she released a well regarded Christmas album and re-started Lilith Fair during this time (among other things), it was still a lengthy semi-hiatus, one that saw McLachlan divorce her husband and adjust to having children.

The Laws of Illusion comes at a time when the music industry is all about tempo and big names, a bit of a shake-up from the friendlier environment that McLachlan left. Female singer-songwriters have a pretty hard time getting on the radio, so don't expect a Building a Mystery or Angel to emerge from this mostly midtempo collection. However, that doesn't mean that there's not some very strong material present. Illusions of Bliss takes on a bit of a different tone than a typical Sarah McLachlan song; instead of a deeply somber piano-led ballad, it's a wispy midtempo with some amped up acoustic guitars and strong drums. Toss in some wailing back-up vocals and you have yourself something slightly left of center but no less enjoyable. Its optimistic tone contrasts the troubled lyrics about being unsure whether to leave a loved one or not, which make it a more interesting listen. Out of Tune could have been dialed back a little bit on the production end of things (the intro is sublime and it gradually gets a bit more fuzzy), but overall, it feels like a natural progression for the singer, as it's reflective without being self-indulgent and with the faintest hint of romance in the air. McLachlan's vocals are hopeful and weary, the fruits of a life of heartbreak and romantic woes, expression painted on them with the most intricate of turns of phrase.

Don't Give Up on Us again squanders an intro with potential and becomes another sound alike in McLachlan's catalog. Don't get me wrong, I adore her ability and she can tune into human emotion better than most of her contemporaries, but sonically, she gets a bit redundant. This is expertly performed with a really lush piano in the background, but the constant howling of the background vocals and the murky production aren't where she should be right now. It's not like she has anything to deficits in singing or writing to hide; it's just too much thrown at you at once. Awakenings adds a little tempo to the mix, a rarity for a Sarah McLachlan album and a welcome addition at that. There are a few distracting elements to it (the little ticking in the background is irritating), but it's a pretty decent way to introduce the set. It's nice to hear some different elements to break up the monotony (there's even an electric guitar solo albeit a brief one), especially since this is the best written track here. McLachlan always lays her heart on the floor and this is no exception, a track that bemoans the past but looks forward to the future with a fresh set of eyes. Forgiveness is everything I love about McLachlan's music; with the production allowing some breathing room, she gives us the type of introspective, slightly dark ballad that her voice never fails on. Washed in regret and impressively textured in delivery and commentary, it's the song for those in dysfunctional relationships, a song that understands mistakes and realizes why happiness has been elusive. It's not a fun song but it's a necessary song.

All about adaptability, Changes discusses what happens once all this heartbreak that she talks about actually occurs. It's not the sexiest listen on the record; it's neither a standout track nor is it a lowlight. It's a mystical little ditty with something that sounds like a musical saw, a softly shuffling ode to simply doing better. I appreciate the different route she took during the verses (they're a little more punctuated) and understand why the hook is structured in the manner it is (the background vocals are very retro), as this track is positive without being too sickening in its quality. Rivers of Love may have an atrocious title, but it's one of the better tracks on the record. It goes back to what makes Sarah McLachlan great; the best parts of the song are where it's just her and the piano. Obviously, it's this multi-layered "epic" listen with random solos, haunting background vocals, and a heaping helping of drama, but McLachlan's at her best when things are simple and unfettered. When it's a more stripped down track, it gets to the heart of the lyricism quicker and feels like a more flexible, personal track.

While I had my problems with the record (it's extremely sleepy and not as immediate), I have to say that The Laws of Illusion is a relatively worthy purchase for Sarah McLachlan fans. She's not exactly reinventing the wheel here, but there's comfort in the familiar; sometimes artists reinvent themselves and lost likeability/integrity, but McLachlan continues to make records that are smooth and introspective. This being said, I wouldn't mind if she took a few more risks next time, i.e. going a little more stripped in production and adding an uptempo cut or two. The tracks here are not bad at all (she will always be captivating in her songwriting and hypnotic with her vocals) and even the production choices aren't the worst in the world; it's just that the record could have been that much better (about one star) had certain elements been eased up on. There's no telling how the world will look when the next Sarah McLachlan album comes out, but through timeless music, Sarah McLachlan will always be relevant.

Dierks Bentley Shows Us How Life Is Up on the Ridge

2010-07-11T05:01:00.000-07:00

One way for an artist to win my heart is to go against what's expected. It's so easy, once you have a following and a little fame, to give up whatever artistic dreams you had for yourself and ride the wave of success. The artists that I most admire are the ones who use their fame and the major label recording budget to fund the "vanity" project, especially if it's not exactly the most mainstream of projects.

I can't say that I dislike Dierks Bentley's music, but I wasn't that big of a fan before this album. He's had some tremendously strong singles and a few really good albums, but lately it seemed like he was regressing instead of progressing. The last studio album he produced felt like one great big retread through his greatest hits instead of pushing, growing, and challenging the listener. In a genre like country music, status quo seems to be the thing to do, so I didn't expect a complete 180 like Up on the Ridge.

But don't be fooled, there are still pop references and tinges of his style on here. I'm not a U2 fan by any stretch, but Pride (In the Name of Love) really fits the sound of the record. Bentley recruits genre vet Del McCoury for the soaring hook, handling the textured verses himself. It's a well layered bit of tempo with a whole lot of strings and smoky harmonies, an expressive and somber ode to strength. Bentley is extremely believable with his golden croon, helping to make this melodically powerful track with an impressive instrumental breakdown one of the better tracks on an already strong collection. Featuring additional verses from a stunningly raspy Miranda Lambert and a typically ornery Jamey Johnson, passionate Bad Angel is the song written about fighting temptation and the vices of everyday life, thanks to the "bad angel" on your other shoulder. It's deceptively simple, a whiskey-soaked barroom-ready midtempo with a whole lot of confidence. Typically, a song about how much you drink or gamble would reek of being desperate or trying to fit into a certain expected image of what a country musician is, but each performer really sells the intent and torment of the song. Draw Me a Map sounds more like a traditional Dierks Bentley song, just stripped down. With some pillowy soft ad libs from Alison Krauss and one of the "prettiest" melodies on the album (the guitars and mandolin are a little more refined), this romantic ballad doesn't feel the need to be bombastic in its declarations of love. It simply seeks to understand, to compromise, and to join together, a notably sensitive sentiment that fits the understated vibe of the song quite well.

Down in the Mine closes the album in a stunning fashion. I may just connect to it a little more because the area I'm from is heavy in coal mining, but it's a chilling account of the journey of a coal miner. From day one to the end of their life, you get a sense of the entrapment and suffocation that is felt from Bentley's plaintive storytelling. The song builds as it goes along, from a singular acoustic guitar to a more fleshed out ballad, coming to a tear jerking crescendo. Foot tapping first single Up on the Ridge has slowly been making its presence known on country radio, a surprising move as it sounds like nothing that currently gets significant play. Incredibly heavy on imagery and rural ambiance (it captures the mood of a typical night in the south quite well), it has this strange deviousness to the song that makes it initially sound very dark. It works well in terms of keeping the track sonically interesting and setting the tone for the record as a whole. Out of all the tracks on the record, it's one of the ones most far removed from his past material, so to see him be able to fit so comfortably here is a revelation. You're Dead to Me doesn't fully work for me because it never picks a side. With something of this lyrical content, it needs to be an extreme; either this should have been startlingly sinister with a very creepy atmosphere or it should have been a total comedy listen. It feels like it tries to just be this good natured, aw shucks type of listen, which may work on a lot of other Bentley songs but not necessarily here. It's not an awful song or even a bad song, necessarily; it just kind of wilts standing next to most of the material on Up on the Ridge and doesn't make itself a truly necessary or effective listen.

Dierks Bentley has produced one of the best records of 2010, regardless of genre. Instead of the hokey frat boy bravado, faux Jimmy Buffett island music, and lazy list-of-country-stuff ballads that seems to be the norm for most mainstream male country musicians these days, we get a powerful collection of well written and solidly executed material. The collaborations show knowledge of the genre that helps the album's case as being genuine vs. being a way to save face after his last album didn't go gold. It may not be perfect but it shows that there's an artist in Dierks Bentley who is just aching to get out and I know I can't wait until he shows what he can really do.

Jordin Sparks Needs to Go Back to Basic Training

2010-07-07T14:45:00.000-07:00

The American Idol winner doesn't ever really get to rest on their laurels until they're deep into their career. Coming off such an adrenaline-filled ride witnessed by 20 million people, they have to simultaneously tour, make a record, do promotion, film music videos, start doing promotion for their album, and finally release their debut album after years of trying to make it into the music business. If that's not bad enough, the sophomore slump is rearing its ugly head, a curse that has claimed a fair share former Idols. Now that their handlers aren't as involved with their career (because, of course, there's a new winner to be pimped), the winner is more free to do what they want on album number two, which is a blessing and a curse.

I actually enjoyed Jordin Sparks on her run to becoming the youngest American Idol winner. She may not have been my favorite (Melinda Doolittle was robbed), but she was constantly improving and seemed to have enormous potential for someone so young. After a schizophrenic but ultimately enjoyable debut album that produced some tremendous success on the singles chart, she got back in the studio and presented Battlefield, the so-called Emancipation of JoSp, during the scorching summer last year.

Battlefield took a little bit of getting used to because it's one of the more adult productions that I had heard from Sparks up until that point. Though the Ryan Tedder production is still decidedly youthful, there's a definite difference between it and the material from Sparks's platinum debut. Lyrically, it could have improved tremendously, as it relies on an extremely obvious metaphor that will definitely cause you to roll your eyes when really looking at the lyrics. It's one of those tracks that you can pick the flaws from (slightly overproduced, lyrically cliché) and you know that it's not the best thing ever, but it's unbelievably addictive. Walking on Snow gives me definite shades of Kelly Clarkson, a compliment of the highest order for an Idol contestant. It's not as good as Clarkson was at her peak, but it's still a pretty formidable pop-rock track that focuses on independence and self. As opposed to Clarkson's sometimes gruff persona, Sparks keeps it light and oddly friendly for a break-up track, her airy, uber girly delivery working well. It's not the heaviest or most challenging track that you'll find in pop music, but it's a nice blast of feel good positivity. No Parade is one of the few tracks where absolutely everything clicks and it showcases the potential that Sparks actually has. Vocally, she's masterful, bringing some complexity to the mournful lyrics that I personally didn't expect. It's a big ballad and isn't too far removed from a song like Battlefield but it has that extra bit of soulfulness to it that makes it a standout. It's appropriate, honest, and one of the few tracks you'll be repeating after the initial buzz from a new album has died off.

While I understand the appeal that songs like Faith have to Jordin, they're just not as inspiring as they could have been. It may be where I'm not in the typical demographic of a Jordin Sparks fan, but the greeting card ready lyricism and overdone vocal just don't resonate with me whatsoever. I appreciate it being such a sparsely produced ballad and Sparks has moments of really connecting, but where she's so young and inexperienced, it's not that affecting of a listen. The Cure sounds like a Leona Lewis reject as opposed to a Jordin Sparks track, which is one of my main criticisms of the record; there's literally no personality to grasp onto here. I realize that she's young and an Idol alum, but she's got to develop an identity soon. This is another well sang yet extremely disposable track that has no presence on the record. It's unmemorable in every aspect, which is something that's the kiss of death in today's pop music world. Emergency (911) tries so hard to be young and hip but there's such disconnect between Sparks's image and the material. The song can't decide what genre it wants to be (it's kind of rock-disco-pop, all three elements that could have been expanded separately into three strong songs as opposed to one mediocre song) and the lyricism is once again not very appealing. Like S.O.S., it tries to have this tough chick I'll-leave-my-man-for-the-very-next-one type of bravado but there's no passion, no believability. It feels like a little girl covering herself with make-up trying to appear edgier and has just about the same effect.

Though the album has sold pretty poorly and there hasn't been much singles success to talk about, I don't think Jordin Sparks needs to raise the white flag just yet. She's a likeable person with an above average voice that can only get better; she does her duty on Battlefield, but the production/lyricism leaves a lot to be desired. Sparks doesn't need to become the next Lady Gaga in order to stay afloat in the music industry, but she needs to liven herself up, determine her personality, and try to settle into a lane. Hopefully she waits a little bit before coming out again, as the added experiences of her early 20s can only be fuel for good material. Sadly, Battlefield is a seemingly endless series of bland adult contemporary tracks with an awkward dance cut and very light rock influences that is the epitome of a sleeping aid.

Nickel Creek's "Why Should the Fire Die?": No Need for an Extinguisher Here

2010-06-25T15:47:00.000-07:00

My relationship with bluegrass music is ever changing. Initially, the term bluegrass brings to mind such stereotypic imagery that it kind of leaves a bad taste in your mouth; pretty much put every southern stereotype in a blender, hit frappe, and you have what most everyone thinks bluegrass is. I was initially put off by the connotations, though age and experience have shown me the diversity of the genre. While there may be a place for every type of artist in the genre (or any genre, of course), bluegrass is more than the chewing tobacco, knee slapping banjos, and bib overalls that my area portrays it as being.

Case in point: Nickel Creek. The now defunct Grammy winning trio doesn’t look like what you would assume a bluegrass trio would look like, which added to the element of surprise when they first came out onto the scene in the early 2000s. Three cute teenagers who can play as well as adults? Well, those three teenagers grew into three adults who made the record of a lifetime in 2007’s Why Should the Fire Die?. Anthony features one of the few leads for the only female in the group, Sara Watkins, who is able to elevate whatever material she’s given, Anthony being no exception. Though the song is a slender 2:02, it has more of an impact than some songs twice its length. A bittersweet tale of learning to accept a rejection, it’s easygoing, sing-song demeanor disguises the grit of the material. Based on the James Joyce story of the same name, Eveline is a darker listen, which is the style in which the group shines the most. Whereas Anthony was stark and even close to sounding incomplete, Eveline packs a ton of layers (especially the stunning harmonies) into its frame. It’s not necessarily a loud or overproduced listen, however; it’s the type of listen that gives you something different each time, i.e. a different instrument stands out or a lyrical phrase gets even more depth than it already has. Helena takes the opposite perspective of Anthony; instead of focusing on the pursuer, we find a regretfully pursued narrator who doesn’t understand the effect his actions have had on the heroine. It’s one of the listens most close to being pop/rock (the inclusion of the drums toward the end brings this out), but it’s a definite Nickel Creek listen (those harmonies are unmistakably country) and probably the most lyrical song on the record. With two very distinctive halves to the song (the sullen first and defiant second), it’s a truly interesting listen, even in a psychological way.

Lyrically, the most noticeable trend of the record is the emergence of dark humor, a trait that the typically reserved trio didn’t fully utilize until this album. Somebody More Like You takes the more subtle approach to cutting someone down to size, sounding like a pretty decent midtempo with an optimistic message. The lyrical barbs sneak in and kind of put the rest of the song in another light. They’re not exactly breaking off some Don Rickles-esque insult comedy, but it’s a cleverly bitter song that is more complex than meets the eye. Best of Luck is one of the songs on here that’s an actual duet between two of the vocalists, as opposed to being one person singing lead and the other doing harmonies. It puts me in mind of a moodier, slightly overproduced Sheryl Crow/Dixie Chicks offering, extremely melodious with hints of sunshine peaking through the cracks. The vocal interaction may be a plus, but the song would have worked with only one singer, as it’s catchy, wildly insightful, and just out and out a strong listen. Doubting Thomas will resonate with anyone currently going through or recovering from the quarter life crisis. Have I wasted my youth? What’s coming up for me? Will I be able to grow? All of these and more are answered in the surprisingly vulnerable lyricism, interpreted wisely by Thile. He may get most of the shine from Nickel Creek but not undeservedly so, as his vocals are typically subdued yet expressive. The calm-after-the-storm production is delicate and the musicianship is put on the backburner for a meditative experience.

Instrumentals are another area where Nickel Creek typically produce positive results and Why Should the Fire Die? introduces three more to their small but impressive catalog. Grammy nominated Scotch & Chocolate shows both sides to their musicianship. You get the luxurious, elegant part to the group and the blistering, intricate part to savor, neither side overshadowing the other just as no member outshines the others here. Sometimes it kind of feels like Chris Thile and his back-up singers in terms of lead vocal distribution, but they’re on an equal playing field here and Thile’s furious mandolin is no more important than Sara’s lush fiddle or Sean Watkins’s soft guitar. Stumptown is more of an agreeable, good natured listen that had single potential if vocals would have been added. Nonetheless, it’s a solid yet unspectacular instrumental that feels very cohesive. Of the instrumentals, it’s the one with the most blended sound; this toe tapper sounds more what you’d think bluegrass would sound like but don’t think of it as being derivative or bland. It’s bluegrass from their perspective, which inherently makes it intriguing. First and Last Waltz almost qualifies as an interlude, clocking in at less than 2:00. The instrumentals are spaced evenly throughout the album, so it wouldn’t be surprising if each was meant as an interlude/transition piece between parts of the record. Waltz is distinctive and haunting, mystically produced and tenderly played. It wafts and wanders, as the tempo slows down and the thoughtful creeps in.

Sadly, Nickel Creek broke up in 2007 after many years playing together, but they certainly left on a high note with Why Should the Fire Die?. Moody, brilliantly played, and cohesive, the album shows off everything that worked for the trio. After a disappointing sophomore effort that was slightly too pop-influenced to really stick to your ribs, Fire eschews bright, shiny hooks and easy to hum melodies for thoughtful (and sometimes sarcastic) lyricism and gritty melodies. It may not be the most accessible album to be released, but it transcends the genre label and is simply a strong record. The group may not be getting back together anytime soon, but this last waltz was everything a fan could have wanted and more.

Jewel's Sweet and Wild: Tons of Sweet, Skimpy on the Wild

2010-06-15T03:27:00.000-07:00

For some reason, country music seems to be the oasis in a desert of mediocre album sales and promotion for some artists. I don't know if it's the seemingly stable record sales or perceived friendly audiences, but country music has become a home for wayward singer-songwriters. In the last several years, there have been several "defectors" from pop music, though not all had the type of response they were looking for. Country music audiences may be a lot of things, but they can spot a "pretender" a mile away. While there may be a fair amount of crossover attempts, just like any other genre, only the strongest survive.

Her career may not be what it once was, but Jewel Kilcher has been one of those strong singer/songwriters who have passed through Nashville's golden gates and gained respect for her authenticity. Granted, her music was pretty darn close to country before she made the official leap in 2008, but she's still garnered the type of admiration that some can only dream of. Ten is all about thinking things through before making a decision and considering the consequences of your actions, a good natured midtempo about never truly being able to leave the one you love after a fight. It wouldn't sound out of place on her last album, a song that straddles the line between country and pop quite well. The production could have been scaled back here, as it would have made more of an impact to hear the steel guitar and fiddle on a song that needs as much emotional connection as possible. Fading immediately reminded me of Michelle Branch's Breathe during its intro, though this song doesn't have the urgency of Branch's rom-com trailer signature. It morphs from potentially huge pop uptempo to nondescript midtempo that sounds ripped straight from the mid 1990s. It's a song of trying to regain yourself, a song whose tempo masks its insecurity. As Bad As It Gets feels like a joining of Jewel's two personalities; you get a snapshot of pre-country Jewel on the acoustic intro, followed by current Jewel, a Jewel that relies more on pop sensibilities and a knowledge on what radio plays (granted, Bad is probably the most "country" track on the record with its downbeat lyricism and tormented climax). As much as I enjoy her music, I would love for her to go back to where she was at the beginning of her career, just a girl with her guitar and something to say. Too often artists get caught up in trying to please everybody and get away from why people like them in the first place.

Summer Home in Your Arms is such a comfortable, easy listen that its somewhat schmaltzy lyricism is forgivable. Though Jewel's music has gotten more produced as her career has went on, this dials it down a bit, her flirty guitar and whispery vocals able to have the proper breathing room needed in order to charm. If it had been written just a bit better (I shudder at some of these), it would have been a much stronger track. To be honest, as soon as I saw the title I Love You Forever, I cringed. It sounds like it'll be the most cliché, obvious listen in the history of time and honestly, it's not half bad. With some fiddle thrown in and a decidedly road song vibe, it's one of the more country songs on the record, an admittedly adorable first person storytelling song about distance and its impact on a relationship. One True Thing feels like a Colbie Caillat track; it's that type of head bobbing, sunny guitar pop that's meant for singing along to with the top down during the summer. Simply written with Jewel's trademark sweetness (all she's looking for is love, you guys! C'mon!), it's got such honesty to it, yet said honesty doesn't impact how addicting of a listen it is.

What can be said about Sweet and Wild can be said about pretty much every Jewel album. It may be slightly overproduced and contain a clunky lyric or two (the Alaskan loves her a good cliché), but it is utterly charming through its eccentricities (you know a Jewel song when you hear it), vulnerabilities, and intelligence. Vocally, she's in as good a place as ever (Exhibit A: As Bad As It Gets), helping to make this a bit more engaging than her pleasant-but-forgettable country debut. As much as I would like her to make a Miranda Lambert-ish album (way more authentically country), I'm perfectly satisfied with another collection of feathery ballads and passionate uptempos delivered by the girl who lived in a van down by the river.

Woohoo? Well, That Wasn't Quite My Reaction...

2010-06-11T12:02:00.000-07:00

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.

Not a Girl, Not Yet a Woman: Charice Doesn't Know What to Do With Herself

2010-06-06T15:10:00.000-07:00

The first moment I witnessed Charice Pempengco's talent was a complete accident and something that I will never forget. There I was, home from college on winter break; it was my sophomore year and grades were due that afternoon, so I would be finding out if I stayed on the Dean's List. While continually refreshing my browser, my mom told me to turn it on Ellen. There stood Charice, then 15 years old, a beautiful, petite Filipina Youtube phenomenon with a surprising amount of confidence who was effortlessly tearing up a Whitney Houston song. I was impressed, but I assumed it was only a brief talk show novelty.

Well, boy was I wrong. After a few false starts in America, platinum albums in her homeland, and enough support from the entertainment big wigs to ensure a long career even if her album doesn't do well (it's on track for a top ten debut, though), Charice has released her debut album, a record that doesn't exactly age her but doesn't show what she can really do. Nothing is one of the few tracks with tempo on this midtempo/ballad heavy set, so it's a welcomed listen, if nothing else. With a strolling bassline and shimmering production, it's a decidedly young listen (in the vein of Jordin Sparks/Kristinia DeBarge) but one that suits Charice's vocals fairly well. She doesn't blow the rafters off the place or anything, though the song is crafted to let her have her moments; she's controlled, extremely confident, and sells the lyricism better than I would have expected. The Truth Is immediately put me in mind of young Celine Dion (for positive reasons). This isn't the most innovative piece on the record (that's a criticism I had for the record: there's not a whole lot of originality), but the structure is very power ballad and the build-up is gradual yet noticeable. The humming piano and breathy background vocals help to fill the track's space, but add in a few glory notes and some very misty production and it's brimming with sonic changes. It's not great, but it's solid. Built on some heavy claps and a head nodding bassline, I Love You sounds initially like a typically gushy teenage girl track (I cringed upon reading the title), but there's a minor lyrical twist that keeps things fresh. Charice has always exuded a certain maturity and this song is no exception. Her flirty delivery reaches its apex on the flashy ad libs, though her best moments are the quieter, more nuanced notes.

I go back and forth on All That I Need to Survive, the slightly cinematic ballad whose intro surpasses the rest of the track. Though it's an undeniably gorgeous song (Disney-ish string section, haunting acoustic guitars, very slow dance ready), it's slightly cheesy (did I mention Disney?) and overdone (the production is smothering). Charice sounds typically strong, but I wish she would adopt a touch of subtlety to her repertoire; I personally think that'll come with experience, but it's almost like she only knows one way to present a ballad. Reset goes back to her young sound; it's not necessarily bad that she's trying to be age appropriate (it's really refreshing, to be honest), but it's not the most appealing for anyone over the age of about 15. Melodically, it's one of the best songs on the record, but it just sounds like a JoJo rehash instead of a Charice song. That's another main problem; you don't get a whole lot of personality on this record. Again, I'm sure that'll come with experience, but a good portion of Charice could have been made by any 15-21 year old female pop/r&b singer and that's not a good thing. Oddly enough, Note to God originally appeared on JoJo's last studio album and Charice performed/released it around this time last year following an appearance on Oprah. It's a little out of place, in my opinion; the subject matter is a touch too heavy for such a light, girly record and honestly, it sounds a bit dated in its production. Written by Diane Warren (that should tell you everything you need to know), it features a strong technical vocal from Charice, but where's the soul? The heart? She hits everything she's supposed to, but her vocal doesn't move me in the slightest on this overwrought ballad. It has good intentions and is a clean listen, but it's just Charice riffing, some choirs, and a whole lot of hot air.

Charice could have been stronger; with Pempengco's extraordinary technical vocals, her team could have tackled pretty much any market they wanted to. That may have been more of a curse than a blessing, as there are moments of trying to play up Charice's age/innocence for the younger crowd but they almost downplay her talent to do so. There are moments where she gets to be a little bit show-y in her presentation (or it seems like she just has to get a big note in), but they can lean toward being a tad stuffy. With no Asian presence in the pop music scene, I genuinely doubt the long-term success of the record aside from the novelty of "hey, there's that girl from Oprah". This record has a few songs that are geared toward radio, but it's more Radio Disney than Z100. By trying to appeal to everyone, Charice has lessened what little artistic integrity she had in the first place, creating a product that's beneath her talent. Her connections may be keeping her in the industry longer than she would have been otherwise, but it won't be until she gets out from under David Foster's thumb that she can truly let loose and push that all important reset button.

No Substitute for Estelle: Shining a Light on Another Talent from Across the Pond

2010-06-05T04:03:00.000-07:00

I admire people who can do more than one thing well. Though the amount of actor/singer/clothing designer/jewelry maker/perfume testers in the entertainment industry is irritating to say the least, I have less of a problem if you do a couple of things and do them well. I personally find any type of artistic talent to be extremely impressive, as my own abilities are, shall we say, lacking. With the state of female emcees in the music industry today, you'd think Estelle would have shown her rhyming ability a lot more often on second album (and first American release) Shine. While there are glimpses of her talent on here, this is a singer's disc and one that the Brit performs admirably.

My favorite thing about the record is that the guest appearances are strong across the board. Cee-Lo graces Pretty Please (Love Me) with some powerful background vocals and an all too brief solo verse; his harmonization with Estelle makes the hook that much more enjoyable, so you almost wish that he had an even bigger presence. Done with a wink, this shimmying, uber flirty uptempo doesn't come off as needy as the title suggests. It moreso feels like a smiley retro toe tapper, as Estelle doesn't take herself too seriously and adds a certain amount of kitsch to the vibe of the song. Wait a Minute (Just a Touch) mixes Estelle's singing and rapping to positive results against this melding of sparse percussion, jangling keyboards, and taunting background vocals.. The main thing I like about her reserved yet assertive flow is that she doesn't sound like anybody; she just sounds like herself, which makes it more enjoyable than it would have been otherwise. Though the Black Eyed Peas' frontman's appearance isn't the best thing since sliced bread, his brand of inoffensive pop hop has enough energy to add some life to the track. You Are slows things up a bit, as Estelle duets with the man who signed her, John Legend. Out of all the duets, they have the most chemistry and make for the most musically compatible team, as evidenced by this warm, loving midtempo that is the epitome of feel good soul music (its wall to wall vocals and just enough tempo to avoid the cheesiness that could have plagued it). It's got such a big heart to it and truly exemplifies genuine romance, Estelle and Legend's back and forth quite captivating.

Shine works well as an album closer, a slightly tribal bit of inspirational soul that gets a little autobiographical and lets us know the origins of Estelle's music career. Instead of being self-indulgent, it's more of a song that lets us see her confidence and optimism and boy, does she have both in spades. This is the best her flow sounds on the record (so much finesse) with some of her most affecting vocals to accompany it. In the Rain just screams summer love, a laidback track that's based on a Barry White sample. Instead of pretty much singing to that track, she speeds it up and makes it into this glistening tale of sunrises and walking with the one you fancy. Something I really enjoy about Estelle is how much energy she brings to a track; on the entire record, she never sounds bored or disinterested and that commitment is all over Rain. Her eager vocal rides this early 90s-ish uptempo with a whole lot of style, making this an underrated listen on the record. Back in Love feels like something I probably should adore, but it's not the type of track that sticks to the ribs. It has all the makings of a strong listen; with a nostalgic lyric, some dreamy production, and a subtle vocal, it should have been the track that you play when you get back together with your ex or when you realize you can't deny your feelings for someone. Instead, it's a pleasant but ultimately forgettable midtempo that's a slight disappointment.

I'm personally worried where Estelle goes from here. Judging by her first "buzz" single Freak (scheduled to appear on her next record, due in September), her music has been radically transformed from organic soul with reggae/hip hop tinges to obnoxiously generic dance music that is as faceless as it is tasteless. The talented double threat already has a Grammy to her credit and the good graces of American music critics, so it'll be interesting to see where that momentum takes her. Nonetheless, Shine is a truly beautiful album, cocky in places, hushed and humble in others. The guest appearances add more than they subtract (a rarity in her genre), though Estelle's unique presence makes the album what it is. Her star may be dimming just a bit now, but this is a worthwhile purchase for any r&b fan that needs a little light in their record collection.

The Court Yard Hounds Scratch and Howl Their Way to a Solid Side Project

2010-06-02T15:40:00.000-07:00

The Dixie Chicks have always been one of the more polarizing country groups out there. Ever since their debut in 1998, they never really fit in with the status quo, whether it be through their quirky, dark humor or the fact that they weren't willing to shut up and sing. Through the incident in 2004, they continued to remain true to themselves, culminating in a triumphant Grammy night and a new place in the pop music scene.

But alas, the Dixie Chicks are still on a bit of a hiatus, thanks to the wishes of lead singer and controversy lightning rod Natalie Maines. However, Martie McGuire and Emily Robison were desperate to get back in the studio, writing songs together and ultimately forging the Court Yard Hounds in the absence of their main musical gig. Debuting in the SXSW music festival in Texas and ultimately releasing their album in early May to positive reviews, the Hounds take a little bit of Dixie Chicks, a little bit of Sheryl Crow, and a little bit of bluegrass to create a decidedly different brand than the Chicks.

It Didn't Make a Sound is a very sunny, summery midtempo with a slight bluesy edge (there's a kind of barroom-ish piano in the background). With lots of claps and a very singable lyric, it's one of the more single-friendly tracks on the record, despite the slightly downbeat subject matter. There may be a handful of uptempo tracks on the record, but this is one of the more fun to listen to, thanks to the very polished production and a pretty solid vocal. The only track to feature lead vocals from Martie, Gracefully is somber and a soft cry for help (I, I just want to smile again), a track that almost serves as a warning against a toxic relationship. McGuire has a more "country" voice than Robison, a positive trait on the more traditional leaning track. Her presence as a lead vocalist is about the same as Robison, so there's no awkward transition or anything, though the track is one of the more reserved that you'll find here. Very rootsy and tormented, it works well.

April's Love works best when it's just Robison and a single acoustic guitar; though the rest of the track is by no mean's a slouch (the fiddle is a nice complementary instrument and makes the track a touch more elegant), you just feel it so much more when you get an unfettered glimpse at a pensive ballad. Others may think that the track needs a bit more body and there's not enough going on (both valid criticisms), but I get more out of a track when it's aching and honest rather than instantly catchy and hummable. This is a track to put on when you're feeling thoughtful or need a quiet moment to yourself. See You in the Spring finds the ladies collaborating with Jakob Dylan, who just released his first alt-country album earlier this year. Though a little lyrically formulaic, the emotion and vocal chemistry are palpable; Robison and Dylan have so much desperation and longing that each note feels like it's going to be their last, that type of vulnerable rawness being used on one of the best melodies on the record (it's limber and whimsical). Dylan's presence brings a much needed third voice to the record, as Spring balances organic musicianship and pop sensibilities well.

Fear of Wasted Time plays to the duos strengths; while the record as a whole sounds like Sheryl Crow circa 2002 (and that's not a diss), they shine on the slower, more contemplative listens that emphasize emotion and musicianship. Though the increased production presence may help to make this a catchier set of songs, the sisters are top notch at interpreting a song. One may think this song is a bit too simple/stripped (its lots of acoustic guitar with a little banjo), but you get to hear the whispery, wounded vocal in all its glory. I Miss You has moments of being lyrically stale (that hook is straight out of elementary school poetry class), but the sentiment behind it keeps this unexpected track (it doesn't sound like a typical "miss you" track) as a positive listen. Combining some twangy acoustic guitars and supple fiddle (I know I'll say it a lot, but the musicianship on this record is nothing short of gorgeous), it's a bit of a road song, fitting in with the vibe of the record quite well.

Delight (Something New Under the Sun) is all about newness and beginning again, emphasized by the doe eyed vocals and hook that feels like a true release of emotion (it's a bit jarring at first, though, as the hook's a bit overdone). It's one of the more coquette-ish listens on the record, though this isn't a bunch of grown women acting like girls; it's a track about taking chances, which is best exemplified by the random change of song structure toward the end. Ain't No Son feels like a bluegrass track on steroids; it had the makings of a solid fiddle-heavy track (the intro sounds like some of the Dixie Chicks' bluegrass listens), but with production that gets amped up the longer the track goes on, it's kind of like a bluegrass melody with a heck of a lot of guitars behind it.

It would make no sense to compare/contrast the quality of the Court Yard Hounds with the Dixie Chicks as they're two groups who make completely different music. The most refreshing thing about the Hounds, though, is the chance to see the structure of the Dixie Chicks getting to step out of the shadows and show what they can do. Both are obviously strong instrumentalists, but vocally, both Marie and Emily have pleasant, capable voices that suit the toned down quality of the record quite well. It may not be the sexiest listen ever (it took me a couple of listens to truly "get it"), but the debut album from the Court Yard Hounds is polished, catchy, and overall quite enjoyable.

The Curious Case of Leela James

2010-06-01T01:43:00.000-07:00

Leela James has never felt right in the current musical environment, which is more than likely why her commercial success has been pretty nonexistent. Everything about the 26 year old Californian harkens back to a time long ago; one look at any of her music videos and you could swear that you had watched that on VH1 Classic the other day or that your mom had her record in her collection. Debuting with an afro almost as big as her voice (yes, I really wrote that line and I'm sticking with it), James has since become more of an underground artist, bouncing around record labels, recording a well sang but unnecessary covers album, and eventually settling at the newly revived Stax Records for this, her third album.

The main positive about the record is that James is finally starting to sound her age; though her voice is from another time and she often carries herself differently than many other r&b females, she's never truly sounded or felt like a 20-something. I don't need her to be Beyonce (trust me, one Beyonce is plenty) but tracks like So Cold are just the right balance. A little more rough than her previous material, its blend of ominous background vocals, sharp handclaps, and distant keys is seductive and trending toward edgy. She's like a Chrisette Michele; her voice may scream classic/elegant material but set that against a grittier beat and it sounds beautiful. Though it may be a little too minimal for its own good, James gets the stage to herself, her noticeable restraint greatly appreciated. Supa Lova is another interesting listen; James always plays up her toughness and independence, but hearing her perform a honeyed slow jam surrounded by warm strings and elastic bass is another weapon in her wheelhouse. It's probably the most romantic track on the record, whispery and intelligently produced. It's not like an r&b slow jam is reinventing the wheel, but it's a new slice of vulnerability from a performer who doesn't always show her hand. It's Over leans back toward James's comfort zone, her full throated kiss off raising her guard up again and championing a life without a deceitful man. Some of the choices made are a little bit confusing (the little chipmunk noise in the background is appreciated for trying to bring something different to the table but it's more of a distraction than anything) and it feels more like stagnation than anything.

I Ain't New To This continues the trend I've been noticing of r&b albums having an opening track that's kind of half intro, half actual song. I'm not necessarily complaining, as most of them have been strong, but New isn't my cup of tea. Overly cocky (this isn't the first time) and way too vocally shouty for me (when all else fails, act a fool), it's a waste of a strong production. The track itself has such a noticeable confidence that I can see why she went this direction, but someone whose commercial success has been nonexistent doesn't need to be bragging about how experienced she is. Party All Night feels readymade for family reunions and barbecues; with its golden production and sunny 70s vibe, it's a flirty uptempo that shimmies like the rent is due tomorrow. James continues her run of strong background vocals that accompany her, as they shine against the glimmering keyboards and subtle bass. I figured this would be an embarrassing attempt at making a club track (I'm looking at you, Keke Wyatt and Angie Stone), but it fits right in with the vibe of the record. Mr. Incredible - Ms. Unforgettable finds James dueting with Raheem DeVaughn, an initially unlikely pairing that makes more sense once you hear it. DeVaughn faces the same type of dilemma that James does (how do you sound relevant and young when your vocals sound ripped from 1975?), but surprisingly it's a rather contemporary midtempo. Though it has moments of being lyrically ridiculous, it thrives off their noticeable chemistry and the pulsing piano only adds to the overall experience. The vocal theatrics are a bit much, but overall it's an enjoyable song from two underrated (and slightly misguided) artists.

The main thing that I appreciate about My Soul is that it makes James more contemporary and less of a gimmick. I had a hard time taking her seriously when she came out, due to how hard she pushed her image; I expected she was just a talented singer who had been tinkered with by a record label executive. Though her look has been refined a little and "youthed up", James is still basically the same artist she was on her debut, which is a definite compliment; she may go a little overboard with her vocals sometimes (and lyrically she can be off putting), but she's somebody who could make a seriously impactful record in the near future. My Soul is solid but far from incredible, a record that is a positive transition record but nothing that will be remembered five years from now.

Trina May Want It All But She's Still Lacking

2010-05-24T01:26:00.000-07:00

The guilty pleasure artist is one of my personal favorites. They may not be the coolest or most musically respectable out there, but when you're in a down mood, you can throw on a few songs and instantly be in a better mood. The guilty pleasure artist breaks up any monotony that one may have in their music collection, as I know I personally can only take so much seriousness before I start to crack. The guilty pleasure artist kind of keeps me sane and that's why as much as my musical taste has grown, I keep coming back for more.

Trina's been on the scene for about half a decade longer than anybody really expected. Bursting onto the scene in the early 2000s on Slip-n-Slide Records, the Miami bombshell became known for her filthy rhymes and barely there ensembles, the dirty south's answer to Lil Kim and Foxy Brown, so to speak. Trina's never been a commercial blockbuster or Hot 100 heroine, but one thing you can say for her is that she's consistent, which has extended to her 2010 album Amazin'.

Originally featuring Lady Gaga, Let Dem Hoes Fight now utilizes Estelle doppelganger (and apparently Gwen Stefani sound-a-like) Kalenna over some strangely minimalist production (the finger snap-only verses are a bit of an eyebrow raiser). With some typically giddy lyricism (some utilized in nursery rhyme-ish chants) that embraces the finer aspects of what makes Trina tick (i.e. she's a bad chick and you're not), it's not as gratuitous as it could have been had it been made earlier in the Miami femcee's career. However, the randomly obnoxious autotuned chanting and lack of any sort of bridge take away from the pleasure and emphasize the guilty. White Girl (as in "I wanna get loose and party like a...") is just as ridiculous as you might think. It even has the Flo Rida cameo to prove it and yes, he still hasn't changed his flow almost three albums in. It's a fairly catchy listen (the sharp claps and heavy emphasis on monotonous keyboard taps faintly reminds me of Rida's own Low) that will be the earworm of the record; if anything, this won't be a listen you forget. Featuring supposed rival Nicki Minaj and dancehall queen Lady Saw, Dang-a-Lang has that type of waist whining island appeal makes it one of the few genuinely melodic listens on the record (are those tubas I hear?). Of course, it's a lyrical atrocity, Minaj's exaggerated, helium-aided rambles extremely nonsensical and Saw sounding embarrassed to be associated with this foolishness. One thing I don't like about Trina's music is that her flow just isn't that versatile and it's evident here; she sounds kind of wooden and lets a promising track slip from her grasp.

Trina can carry a track when it's the type of in-your-face uptempo that she built her career on. That's My Attitude absolutely shines with its explicitness and palpable confidence (on the slower songs, she doesn't sound sure of herself, which spreads to the listener and kind of makes you doubt her sincerity); I know she's made a more conscious effort to clean things up and not be such an extreme emcee, but goodness, these songs are her bread and butter (it's more posturing and preening than the aggressive war dance of her breakthrough Da Baddest B!tch). To me, Trina's music is energetic and lively, so on songs like Capricorn that lack a pulse, it's hard to really stay with her. My B!tches uses some chipmunk effects and choppy strings to make a celebratory friendship anthem through the perspective of the one and only Trina. There's some heart and lots of love expressed by Taylor, but it's got her signature blend of humor, sexuality, and self-esteem that's weaved in between the brisk bass and handclaps. It's a little goofy, but this is a Trina album, so what do you really expect?

Always takes advantage of 2010 comeback queen Monica for one of the smoother r&b cuts on the record (and something that feels like a Monica featuring Trina track). Trina's biggest hit is something in this ilk, so you can't really blame a girl for reaching for that second hit of mainstream success. Something about it just reeks of prom or high school mixtapes; that's not necessarily an insult, but with Monica's tenderly caressed hook and some slow dance-ready production, it just puts you in mind of that season. Frequent collaborator and fellow Slip-n-Slide signee Shonie joins Trina for On Da Hush, a piano-lenient midtempo that places the emcee in the role of secret lover. While it may not have the type of sensuality or seduction that other song (it's not laidback enough and the production's too in your face), it's still an enjoyable listen, mostly due to Shonie's soft hook. The two of them have some pretty strong chemistry (they have some strong unreleased songs floating around YouTube), so even when it may not be the best song, it's listenable. Capricorn could have been a cute little listen (it seems to be fairly genuine and comes from a good place), but Trina decided to try to turn this into some funky interlude/spoken word hybrid. She doesn't really flow on here, which makes it almost funny; it's more of conversation with Miss Katrina Taylor about how good her man is, obviously centering around his astrological sign. It lags due to Shonie being relegated to very brief ad libs, allowing us pretty much four minutes of straight introverted Trina, closing the album on a down note.

If you're looking for a serious, thoughtful album from a female emcee, I suggest you look elsewhere. But if you need some hilarious club cuts, fairly decent r&b-heavy slow jams, and lots of posturing in your life, Trina has the album for you. If anything, a Trina album will always entertain; whether that's from a genuine musical accomplishment or a sick train wreck fascination is a whole other thing, though, as this album has both in spades. Amazin' may not live up to its title (hence not recommending it) but it has enough moments that are ripe for cherry picking from iTunes.

Bruised But Not Broken: Chely Wright Lifts Herself Up

2010-05-22T00:39:00.000-07:00

Chely Wright is a groundbreaking artist and not many people can name three songs by her. By coming out of the closet earlier this month, Wright, a very sunny, quirky singer with spotty success, took charge of both her career and personal life in a field that isn't the most kind to those who don't fit the idealized vision of a working country musician. In a genre where homogeny is seemingly encouraged, Chely Wright now stood out, albeit for all the wrong reasons.

First single Broken has some much needed tempo (several of Wright's recent singles have been very maudlin ballads and this moody midtempo feels good to these tired ears) and introspection; a tale of putting the pieces back together and learning how to live, it's inspirational without being ham fisted. It possesses a smoldering subtlety and distinct intelligence that is undeniable (it's one of the best written country singles I've heard in a while). Snow Globe is one of the more complex listens on the record, containing indirect suicide references and some genuinely dark moments. With touches of bluegrass (more Alison Krauss than Ralph Stanley, of course), it's quite organic with beautiful imagery and an interesting point of view. Wright plays wounded quite well (her voice has always, in my opinion, been fragile and soft), so it's not the knock-you-on-your-butt change of pace that you may think it is. Notes to the Coroner does not sound anything like I thought it would. Just glancing at the tracklist, I assumed that this would be the gutwrenching ballad and centerpiece of the record. While its sunny road song sheen sounds made for radio (those guitars are divine), the lyricism is shockingly downbeat and depressing (it's a little opaque, but it sounds like Wright detailing a suicide note). Such juxtaposition could be extremely off putting, but this articulate toe tapper manages to be oddly catchy. You'll catch yourself singing it and trust me, that'll inspire some mixed emotions.

Ornate and tender, Wish Me Away relies on a single acoustic guitar and Wright's tormented vocals to great avail (there's some luxurious strings toward the controlled climax). It's not a huge departure from the rest of the record, but that doesn't mean it's not a strong piece of this heartfelt puzzle. Seeped in regret (and lined with a sense of hope for the future), it's the type of song that would sound spectacular live, a post-break up ballad that bears every emotional scar imaginable. Shadows of Doubt is all about inner strength and perseverance; it's a touch sleepy at over six minutes long, but the comfort and ease in which it operates makes that not as big of a con as it would have been otherwise. Sounding almost like a lullaby (Wright's vocals are strangely maternal and knowing), it's peaceful and romantic, a ballad made for gentle embraces and mixtapes. Like Me, the title of Wright's recently published autobiography, makes reference to Wright's sexuality (who's going to end up holding your hand/ a beautiful woman or a tall handsome man), which took me off guard on first listen. It's done very poetically and naturally, so once the initial "oh, she said what?" awareness has gone away, the song can have its effect on you and what an effect it has. It almost feels like a song to herself, adding to the earnest self-awareness that permeates the record. It's a gentle nudge in the right direction, a tender moment of a woman coming into her own.

Taking away all the controversy, this is Chely Wright's best album in years. In the past, her music could come off as a bit hokey in some places, self-righteous in others, but the seas of life have eroded the sandy bits of gunk from her songwriting. They leave a self-assured, interesting figure whose only real connection to country music is the noticeable twang in her delivery; if it weren't for Wright's slight southern lilt, this could be placed alongside other singer-songwriter records without much after thought. Lifted Off the Ground is personal, thoughtful, and a real pleasure to watch unfold, a lovely way to watch someone finally come out from the shadows and embrace their true self.

Laura Bell Bundy Shakes Her Way to Stardom

2010-05-20T11:30:00.000-07:00

I took a theatre class my sophomore year in college and it ended up being surprisingly interesting. It mainly focused on the history of the medium, how to create a show, and where it was headed into the 21st century. However, we had to do some improve as a part of the acting unit and needless to say, I was a wreck. I managed to get a few giggles, though, and got used to it the more I was up there. I'm extremely meek in person and having to be bigger than life (or at least, a little more exaggerated in my movements) took some getting used to.

Broadway actress Laura Bell Bundy certainly had no trouble adjusting, as she took the theatre world by storm with her portrayal of Elle Woods in Legally Blonde: The Musical landing her a whole lot of notoriety. As her time in hot pink heels wore down, Bundy began to expand her reach, creating an independent country album in 2007 before releasing Achin' & Shakin' earlier this month to positive reviews. Side one of this deliberately sequenced second album focuses on the achin' side of country music, i.e. the more traditional, slower ballads that are heavy on the steel guitar and fiddle Curse the Bed is pure anguish and delightfully sang; Bundy knows how to channel an emotion and make it stick, so the entire record is believable and understandable. She embodies these characters and absolutely rips your heart out on this slow burning break-up ballad. Soundwise, picture any recent Lee Ann Womack album and you have the type of vibe that side one embodies. A little sparser and less dramatic, moonlit When It All Went South is delicate and hushed, aching fiddle and feathery acoustic guitars creating a truly interesting listen. Side one has this type of quiet strength to it that makes it the better of the two sides; side two is flashy and powerful, but side one is Bundy bruised and battered but not giving up. Most obviously on this song, Laura Bell Bundy is someone that won't feel sorry for herself and that type of fearless is translated into her musical direction/choices. One of the songs previously featured on her debut album, Cigarette reeks of stale booze and anticipation, the type of barroom stunner that's pensive and weary (it's in this weird area where she's not doing the Taylor/Carrie sound but she's not doing more alt-country, either; it's a deliberate throwback to 70s/80s country). If there's one thing I would have changed about Bundy's approach on this song, I would have had her get even more into character; though her commitment is fantastic and her theatrical training helps her sell the material, her voice has this chipper edge to it that's hard to get rid of. It may just be where she has a bit of a thinner voice, but this track could have been even better than it is.

Side two allows Bundy to let loose a bit and stretch her theatrical muscle; side one demanded a bit more of a reserved, introverted performer (nary an uptempo or drum to be found), but every song on side two demands color, pizzazz, and a dynamic personality. Boyfriend? is done with a wink, confidence oozing from every line she utters, a trend for this side of the record. It may be a little off-putting for fans of contemporary country (she talks about man toys), but it's just campy enough to be entirely addicting. With a hook that demands to be shouted along with (very stadium-ready country) and sturdy guitars (plus a very kitsch rap from Bundy that's not as irritating as it could have been, mainly because she's such a personality on here that it seems plausible), it stands up to other songs on the radio, it's a track that you'll have to repeat, if only because it'll be the song you'll have in your head after the first listen. First single Giddy on Up has caused some minor controversy among viewers/fans, but I can't really understand why. Could it be the ramped up horn section? The in your face delivery? The choir-y background vocals? I understand that its dance-y production will turn some people off, but this isn't some extreme left field concoction that she's trying to pass off as country. Country music is more complex than its fans give it credit for and songs like Giddy Up bring some much needed excitement to a genre that stays even keel most of the time. If You Want My Love is a fusion of Bundy's personality quirks and kind of takes a few listens to really understand; you have her tongue twisting delivery from Giddy Up, the wink wink delivery/lyricism from Rebound, and the background vocals from Everybody joining together to be some kind of gospel-country hybrid listen that's surprisingly stirring and believable. It's a huge slice of energy and fun, a sunny toe tapper with a humorous outro and some genuinely funny lines. I personally don't repeat it a whole lot, but it plays its part well on the record.

I'm not going to sit here and pretend that Achin' & Shakin' is some kind of modern day masterpiece that will set your ears ablaze with its sheer awesomeness. It may not be a classic of epic proportions (there are a few low points on the record and the first side is stronger), but there are enough moments of quiet reflection and campy deliciousness to make for an all encompassing second record. Bundy uses her theatrical training well, making up for whatever limitation her voice may have (on the record, she sounds like Kellie Pickler sans southern accent and with some serious soul added in) with how deeply she connects to the mostly self-penned material. Purists may recoil in horror at the ballsy personality that Bundy exudes in interviews (she's definitely not controlled that tightly by her publicist and I love it) and the lighthearted take she has on country music (the girl raps multiple times and drops a Beyonce reference), but listen a little deeper and there's a serious artist waiting to burst out.

Sharon Jones & the Dap-Kings Take Everybody to School

2010-05-14T16:21:00.000-07:00

Aging is something that scares me. I know that it happens to everyone and that there's nothing you can do to stop the passage of time, but with each successive year, I get a bit more paranoid about what's to come and how I'm going to make the most with however much time I have left. It may be a silly concern for a 20-something to have, but stepping back and realizing the brevity of life is something that I can't help but do.

50-something Sharon Jones continues to defy the expectations set upon people of her age. In a genre where the elder statesmen are content with singing adult contemporary tunes with an occasional airplay hit, Jones and her lively band the Dap Kings (the band who inspired Amy Winehouse's Back to Black) are built on energy, fire, and grit, the type of music you would have discovered in your parents' record collection and not been able to wrap your mind around until much later in life. The Reason may be a tad short (slightly under two and a half minutes) but its bright horns, laidback bass, and golden production make it an instrumental that doesn't interfere with the flow of the album. The Dap Kings are such a tight, well constructed band that having a chance to actually focus on their playing is a positive of the record; often times with such a strong frontwoman, the band gets ignored, so Reason is a nice shot of energy and a way to showcase the bones of the sound. Window Shopping provides a good example of how well-written this record is; it's not exactly Shakespeare or anything, but it's succinct, smart, and sensual. A smoldering kiss-off to a man with a wandering eye, it's a good mix of dismissive and down, the type of frustrated fatigue that Jones's textured voice projects well. Though the Kings are strong on the horns, its when the strings are turned up a notch that I paid the most attention; they added a little diversity and a new background to hear Jones against. If You Call is brimming with desperate longing, Jones' weary vocals exuding the worldly grit that hits you right in the gut. Questioning her own humanity and still retaining admirable command, Jones guides this moody midtempo with ease. Like most of the Dap Kings' material, this could have been made 50 years ago with absolutely no problem; the haunting lyric is a universal topic while the approach is weathered and real.

With some minimal production, Mama Don't Like My Man may not immediately stick out on a record with Jones going full blast and some lively melodies. However, it's charming and puts the spotlight squarely on Jones, as the only accompaniment she has is a twangy guitar and a couple background singers. It's Sharon and the melody and both are equally as captivating on this bluesy toe tapper. Money (as in "where have you gone to") takes a bit of a turn from what you expect; instead of talking about how money doesn't mean anything if you don't have the more important things in life, it's a topical song concerning the current economic situation that doesn't come off as preachy. It's more of a character-based song, Jones's wailing cries (her ad libs will give you chills with how guttural and real they are) embodying the frustrations of countless millions who have lost their jobs. Album opener The Game Gets Old is the type of wise midtempo that Jones shines on time in and time out; her age gets used as an asset throughout the record, as her believability on songs like this is exponentially more than it would be coming from just about anybody else. With a horn section that's very minor note-heavy (quite ominous) and a fairly catchy hook, it's a strong way to open up the record, even though it's not nearly the strongest track on the record.

As always, Sharon Jones & the Dap Kings are a breath of fresh air in an increasingly hazy music scene. Jones is such an intriguing frontwoman, dynamic and fiery in some aspects, burdened and wounded in others. The music is authentic in its approach and intoxicating in execution. Though the record may not be as immediate as past releases have been, possibly due to how slightly subdued I Learned the Hard Way is in comparison, it's still as satisfying, Jones' vocals absolutely monstrous in terms of power and ability.

Clear!

2010-05-14T13:10:00.000-07:00

Toni Braxton is one of those artists that I'll always associate with my childhood. Though the deep-voiced Atlanta resident has been active since the early 90s, it was her mammoth second album Secrets and its subsequent singles that have been permanently seared into my brain. It may have been their ubiquity or it may have been sheer serendipity (it was around that time that I started getting really into music), but whenever I hear Unbreak My Heart or You're Makin' Me High, I can't help but be taken to a place that I had long forgotten about.

However, Braxton's career has been more hit-or-miss lately, as her past couple of albums have only been lukewarm successes with no breakout crossover single since the early 2000s. Call it radio ageism, call it an artist who doesn't know how to gracefully step aside, it's just a shame that someone of Toni Braxton's caliber isn't a steady presence on the charts.

Recently released Pulse is attempting to rectify this situation, though early numbers aren't the most encouraging for long term success. The album relies heavily on the ballads that Braxton has utilized to build her brand of sultry, heartfelt soul, though they're not as consistent as they probably could be. The end of the record seems to be where Braxton lets some appreciated vulnerability and musical maturity show, especially on album closer Why Won't You Love Me. Admirably sparse and admittedly a song that hits close to home, it's delicate and introspective, a self-aware ballad of amiable finger snaps and tender piano. I appreciate the personal touches in the lyricism and the progression in Toni's sound; she's always been a strong balladeer, but this ranks right up there with her best. After her last couple of records have tried to be more "hip", it's nice to see a truly classy listen from a premiere voice in the genre. Pulse is a touch more dramatic and, in some ways, cinematic in structure, though it never really goes overboard with the theatrics. With a full bodied string section and stormy production, it's more in the vein of past ballads than Won't, which isn't necessarily a bad thing. Vocally, Braxton is impassioned and determined, reaching down in the lowest part of her register before obliterating the stirring bridge. No Way kind of treads the sonic line between the two previously mentioned tracks; it may be a relatively stripped acoustic-led ballad (those background vocals!) that is framed by Braxton's floaty vocal, but it has tinges of Let It Flow and wouldn't have sounded too out of place on Secrets or The Heat. It's just a fluttery, flat out pretty listen with a whimsical melody and enough emotion to keep you interested.

Woman may be the type of empowering anthem that is in Braxton's wheelhouse, but there's something about it that I can't seem to latch onto. A cover of the Delta Goodrem song from her American debut, this is just slightly derivative and limp (the melody is beyond flat), despite the inclusion of some more pop/rock elements. It may be some slight bias in favor of Goodrem's version (she sounds way more natural singing this), but Braxton's version is meh at best. I get what she was going for with the peppy Wardrobe but it just ends up sounding like a weak Jordin Sparks sound-a-like (seriously, listen to this and then One Step at a Time). It's slightly cute and possesses some attitude (it's got kind of a baby strut goin' on), but it's a little too young sounding to be believable. While it may not be a bad track per se, it just doesn't fit with Toni Braxton; she's too mature and experienced to be producing material that would be album filler for girls half her age. Speaking of tracks that are beneath her, we have current single Make My Heart, Braxton's attempt to take us to the clubs. This is honestly what I was afraid the record would sound like, a badly executed attempt to capitalize on the latest trends in the music industry. The little funk tinges are a nice touch, but it's too much like your aunt who used to be the baddest chick at the club trying to do the latest dances in front of you. I don't think people should make the same record over and over again, as that would get boring, but this not-very-catchy dance track sticks out like a sore thumb in Braxton's catalog and reeks of desperation.

Pulse isn't a bad album by any stretch. Toni sounds as good as she ever has and instead of trying to capitalize on the current musical industry trends (well, at least not too much, as she cut a few questionable tracks from the final product), she just sticks to what she does best. What stops Pulse from being a better album is that its lyricism is just stale and trends toward being cheesy. Braxton's voice has carried some mediocre songs to full on jam status (as well as her ear for a good melody), but there are times on here that it's too much to bear. In my case, I really wanted to like this album, but sans a handful of songs, Pulse lacks any sort of life.

According to Me, Orianthi is Someone to Watch Out For

2010-04-25T11:37:00.000-07:00

There's been a serious shortage of rockin' females in the music industry the past few years. Yes, you have someone like, say, Kelly Clarkson getting more in touch with her rocker roots or someone like P!nk who's making rock-ish music cool to play on mainstream radio again, but there's not been a new female artist with a guitar over her shoulder to make much impact in years. The dearth of female rock talent is so vast that the Grammys did away with the female rock vocal category, a sign that we really need a new artist to remind us of the butt kicking potential of a rockin' female.

Orianthi may just be the one to do that, at least in the short term. The Australian phenom was handpicked by Michael Jackson for his This is It tour and has shared the stage with some of music's greats. Releasing her debut album in October 2009, the 20-something has had a slow rise up the charts, thanks to the success of debut single According to You, an empowering anthem that soars with each choppy guitar lick. Coming from the School of Kelly Clarkson and Avril Lavigne Kiss-Offs, it's full of attitude and a noticeable energy that simply explodes on the raucous hook. Think of this as the baby sister of Since U Been Gone with an additional guitar solo (the highlight of the album, to me) and a happy ending. Think Like a Man sheds some of the pop friendliness of According to You to create a foot tapping 80s-influenced metal-lite track that has some appreciated edge about it. Its amped up snarl is a good look on Orianthi; she may shine on poppier material, but give her some room to let loose and you get a supremely confident performance that gives more body to less than stellar lyricism. Untogether slows things down a lot and strips down the production, two things that are needed on a record that can sometimes be too slick for its own good. It's not as hook-heavy as some of the other material on the record, but that doesn't mean it's any less of a track; Orianthi's performance is a little softer, complementing the feathery guitar work, and helps to make this introspective break-up song that much more personal.

God Only Knows is a sobering 60s-influenced ode to loss and loneliness. It's a bit of a hushed way to end the album, but it's a well done, relatable piece of music that's not as manipulative as songs of its ilk. Orianthi may be doing her best Avril impression on the vocals (close your eyes and you really think it's her), but the song would be a crown jewel on any Lavigne album, Orianthi's genuine approach and honest lyricism besting most anything on the calculated collections of music that the Canadian has put out. Bad News sounds like something that I've heard before, but I can't seem to put my finger on it. The song isn't derivative or anything; it just favors something that I still can't figure out. It's a brooding uptempo with heavy drums and some intense guitar solos (it's the more guitar-heavy song on the record aside from the instrumental). Production-wise, it gets a little messy toward the end, but the instantly singable hook and Orianthi's strong vocal are enough to pull it through. Feels Like Home is the definition of a road song; concerning career evolution and finding your place in the world, it's a sunlit ballad with acoustic guitars and an amiable pace. It's a little more pensive than the average song on the record, a little more thoughtful in its approach. Usually, everything on here goes full throttle, but it's a bit more standoff-ish, a bit more introverted. It comes off very believable, as Orianthi's recent vault into fame was sudden, at least in America.

Orianthi's album isn't anything earth shattering, but it lays the groundwork nicely for future artistic evolution. Believe is a radio friendly, extremely slick collection of sky reaching hooks, blistering riffs, and fairly decent lyrics. You get a showcase for her guitar playing (including an instrumental that doesn't mess up the flow of the album), probably the one element that separates her from the other females who she has often been compared to. Her potential may be vast but we've not yet begun to see the true artist that Orianthi can be. Until the day where she makes a record that leans heavier on the artistry than the prospect of radio play, we'll have to make do with not bad but not excellent collections of music that would make even her contemporaries giddy with excitement.

Harder, Better, Faster, Stronger: Gary Allan Made It Through

2010-04-22T22:13:00.000-07:00

Dealing with tragedy after the fact is something that takes time and a whole lot of coping skills. It's one thing to be in the moment, running on adrenaline and baked apple pie, but what happens when the funeral goers leave and all you're left with are yesterday's crumbs? How does one deal with the life after the loss and become a fully functioning person again?

Gary Allan put everything on display when his wife committed suicide in 2004, crafting a slow burning tribute to her/snapshot of his thoughts in the moment (the criminally underrated Tough All Over) before retreating to presumably work on himself and take care of his children. 2007's Living Hard does a fine job of putting a face to the young widower, covering just about every aspect of a man still trying to put the pieces back together.

Wistful and pensive, first single Watching Airplanes is deceptively down, its noticeable tempo increase from Tough All Over and soaring hook disguising a song that explores the depths of longing and loss. I can see why this midtempo was made a single (the sunlit hook soars under Allan's grizzled guidance), but it still doesn't ruin the consistency of a cohesive, subtle set of self-aware country/rock. Wrecking Ball restores the aggression that Allan does so well, his delivery showcasing some serious range (it's the most that he's tested his range, from what I can recall). From the seething verses to the explosive hook, it's an anthem about a destructive female that is simultaneously a tribute and a cautionary tale. Allan's rock influences are heavier here, the foot tapping percussion and heavily posturing guitars creating a nice place for some serious catharsis. Album closer Living Hard plays up Allan's troubled troubadour image a bit with its imagery, as it serves as a snapshot of the hectic road life. Though he may be forthcoming about his personal life, you never really know what Allan thinks about fame/singing and it's nice to hear how he approaches his craft. It feels concert-made (the background vocals preview this, a'la Garth Brooks' I've Got Friends in Low Places), though Allan doesn't simply tailor the song for arenas. It's still the type of weathered soul searching that you're used to from the veteran, complete with rousing woo-hoos and stripped production.

Trying to Matter is a lot more uptempo/optimistic than I personally anticipated, based simply on the title. I figured it'd be the type of dark introspection that Allan does so well, but it's his version of an anthem considering the relatable subject matter (the message: we're all just trying to matter but we should focus on the ones who matter most). Brisk guitars (that solo! goodness...), streamlined production, and Allan's hearty vocal all help to shape this feel good (on a Gary Allan album? Yeah, I know...) track with a silver lining. Previously cut by Jace Everett (y'know, that guy who sings the True Blood theme song) on his fairly decent self-titled debut album from a few years back, Half of My Mistakes feels like the best representation for the album. While Everett's version was competent, Allan's version is lived in, real, and believable, both through his back story and his delivery. It's the type of smoky midtempo discussing one's failures and how they would change things that country music loves to trot out, but this one is actually extremely well-written and continues a non-cringe inducing silver lining that feels more like something for him than for the audience.

She's So California is about as throwaway of a track that Gary Allan can make, but that's not saying a whole lot. It follows the same type of lyrical theme that Wrecking Ball had, but it just doesn't feel like anything new. Granted, it's a moderately catchy uptempo that warrants pretty decent repeat spins, but it feels like something that was more for country radio than for artistic reasons (I don't know, it just feels too "clean" in its production - a Gary Allan song shouldn't be tidy). There's nothing wrong with that (especially since this "filler" beats a heck of a lot of great material from some people); you just expect more. As Long as You're Looking Back (as in "you can't see tomorrow...") faces a similar problem (well, not a problem) that Watching Airplanes did but in reverse. It sounds like a depressing little number, but it's more of an advisory track about trust, forgiveness, and honesty. Though I may beat the point home in his reviews, I still believe that Gary Allan is at his best on tracks like these, as his raw persona and unfettered delivery bring out the best in downbeat material. You ache with each turn of phrase, but it's nice to see a little positive energy now and then. Yesterday's Rain may have an occasional clunker of a line (and follow one of Allan's most successful singles, Songs About Rain), but it's still a stunning ballad. Stripping away the brashness of the guitars, there's a newfound sensitivity to Allan's sound (the fiddle is glorious) that falls in line with his pensive lyricism. It's not as lonesome as some of Allan's material (it seems the louder he goes, the more distant he becomes), but it's such a thoughtful, well dressed ballad (it has enough elements to be a full listen but it's not typical ballad hokey-ness) that it's an immediate highlight.

Gary Allan continues to show why he's the most fascinating artist in country music. He doesn't beat his chest and scream about how country he is, he doesn't feel the need to try to prove how funny he is, and he stays true to himself, despite whatever trend may be riding high in his genre. A Gary Allan album is sonically straightforward yet everything else about it is tangled, flawed, and beautiful; you see a man grappling with his inner demons, whether it be loneliness, fears, and his own self-worth, all presented with Allan's trademark rugged growl. Living Hard is the calm after the storm of Tough All Over, a second consecutive introspective, highly personal account of loss, love, and self that is nothing short of brilliant.

No, no...You Can Keep Your Country, Miss Wilson

2010-04-22T16:31:00.000-07:00

Rooting for the underdog is a part of the American way. Though you always have the Yankees, McDonald's, and Wal Mart (three perennial powers in their respective fields), there's nothing quite like watching the growth of something small into something extraordinary. Whether it be sporting (i.e. the Butler Bulldogs almost winning the 2010 NCAA Tournament), the Oscar season (i.e. the no-name actress or the film made with $5 and some gum), or musically (i.e. any Grammy upset you'd like to name), the underdog brings excitement, intrigue, and an unpredictable nature to fields that may not always carry those attributes.

Gretchen Wilson kicked country music square in the cajones in 2004, riding her four-wheeler onto the hallowed grounds of the genre that generally likes its women reserved and stately. Hot on the heels of Redneck Woman and its subsequent 5x platinum album Here for the Party, Wilson became the belle of the ball, the single mother from Illinois (and former bartender) rivaling established veterans for awards and buzz. However, as quickly as it came, it went. Later albums saw sales slowly dwindling away, radio programmers turning their back on the former hottest thing in country, and Wilson's status shifting from celebrated shero to ogled outsider.

Following her release from Epic Records (and subsequent starting up of her own label Redneck Records), we have I Got Your Country Right Here, Wilson's oft-delayed fourth album. Title track I Got Your Country Right Here signifies the type of I'll-do-it-my-way-regardless-of-what-anybody-thinks posturing that the rest of the album manages to keep going; lyrically, it's nothing special, name checking Charlie Daniels and Waylon Jennings in an attempt to prove her credibility (a'la her debut single Redneck Woman). The vibe is very aggressive with bluesy tinges (Wilson said she wanted this to be much more southern rock than her previous albums, but judging from the title cut, it's just a slightly less produced version of her debut album), Wilson sounding extremely comfortable on the slightly expected arrangement. Work Hard, Play Harder is probably the busiest song on the record, though it's not half bad. Lyrically sounding like a snapshot of Wilson's earlier life, it's the type of general-yet-relatable brand of foot stomping arena country that male country artists are currently utilizing to get to the top of the charts. Though the arrangements during the verses recall Shania Twain circa 1998 (but with more guitars, y'all!), the hook kind of redeems things (and her ad libs aren't that bad either). Outlaws and Renegades is some (not entirely off base) criticism of country radio, i.e. everything sounds the same, that kind of morphs into the type of off-putting political statement that sunk my opinion of Wilson's previous albums. The country radio topic sounds more bitter than anything, while the political undertones (as well as "the good ol' days are gone") are an overdone topic. Blah blah blah, more country name checking. Gretchen Wilson is country music's version of The Game, I think.

Just when I was ready to put the album away for good, I'd Love to Be Your Last came on. I've always been a proponent of Wilson's ballads (to me, they're more genuine) and this is no different. Mostly acoustic (with some absolutely luscious strings), its endearingly vulnerable and whispery, eschewing the typical country music bombast for some actual touching moments. Wilson may not have a technically perfect voice, but when she tones down, it's beautifully broken, the type of weary warble that just tugs at the heart strings. I'm Only Human brings the volume up a bit, but that was to be expected. Wilson's back story helps her sell ballads, especially as she chooses material that's reflective of her own stance rather than making the typical store bought Nashville ballad. A little sensual, a little self-aware, its romanticism is all in the subtle vocal and the very ambient atmosphere. She doesn't blow you away with a powerhouse vocal, but that's not required. It's all about the longing here and it works well.

Trucker Man is an example of how I think Gretchen's music gets a little manipulative sometimes. By making a song about a nameless trucker who's eager to get home, there's room for the laundry list of country music clichés that seem to make themselves felt in more songs these days (Smith & Wesson! Farms! Virgin Mary! Driving fast in the sunshine!). It's a fairly decent road song (very streamlined production, total shout-a-long hook), but you can't get past the lyrics to make heads or tails of it. Aside from being a grammatically awful title, Blue Collar Done Turn Red is extremely polarizing and obnoxious, as well as being a summary of material that Wilson has covered for about four albums (i.e. being PC is bad, the Senate/House/bailouts are worse, etc.). Though it's an alright southern rock-lite uptempo (with a fiddle solo that's easily the highlight of the entire thing), Wilson's voice gets into screechy territory, making these eye rolling platitudes that much tougher to digest. As Far As You Know works beautifully until the screaming hook that highlights one of Wilson's weaknesses. To her, being sassy/strong is turning the volume up to 11 and pounding the point home until it's a dead horse. Not every song can be the whispery soft delivery that I love from her, but any opportunity she can take to amp it up, she does. This could have been a fairly decent little break-up midtempo had there been any hint of restraint (you can be a scorned lover and still have your vocal chords in tact), but it's very hard to listen to this multiple times.

I actually don't think Gretchen Wilson is that bad of an artist, despite some of the more obvious flaws in her approach. What set her apart in 2004 was the authenticity of her persona; Gretchen Wilson is her music (just read her backstory) and in a land of professional songwriters and hackneyed material, that was really nice to see, especially from a female artist. To me, the reason she kind of tapered off is the lack of growth, as she's basically made the same album four times in a row and hasn't been anything but the tough talkin' conservative southern mama (one could argue that it's because she took the blueprint that a lot of male country singers have used and it made Nashville uncomfortable). A lot of musicians make a career off of that, but Wilson's schtick (or perceived schtick) was too thin to stretch into a full length career. Though her career was built on uptempos, the past five years or so have shown how she can sing a ballad pretty darn well, as they're the only thing that have kept my interest in her career. I've Got Your is fairly decent but unless you're already a big fan of her work, I'd try to find your country anywhere else but here.

Light as a Feather, Stiff as a Board: VV Brown Gets All Weird

2010-04-21T02:05:00.000-07:00

Being weird is okay.

As a socially awkward only child who didn't interact with other people my age until I hit elementary school with a resounding thud, I've had many years of trying to accept my weirdness. Throughout the years of failed relationships, missed career opportunities, and days spent alone, I've had plenty of time in order to come to terms with who I am and where I've been, something that I struggle with to this day. I may be more comfortable with the 22 year old man that you see before you (well, kinda see), despite the fact that I still feel like the trembling 4th grader who dodged the bullies every recess.

I wouldn't necessarily call VV Brown weird, per se, but she is certainly not your average singer. A lot of that lies in vocal delivery, as Brown is closer to, say, Kelis than Christina Aguilera, which makes her album more conducive to experimentation. Travelling Like the Light isn't the most experimental song out there, but it's quite pretty, a lush swirl of hushed strings, tender piano, and feathery back-up vocals. Brown has a tendency to over enunciate, which may irk at first, but her voice is textured and romantic, expressive and youthful. The song slows things down a bit and makes Brown go for a more "girly" approach, a nice expansion of her range and a way for the record to not be stale. Shark in the Water brings some sunny tempo before the power-pop hook just explodes into about a billion pieces; the verses sound like something Corinne Bailey Rae could record (that type of friendly, strolling soul), but the hook invokes all sorts of Little Jackie influences (strong and sassy), which is a high compliment. At just a touch over 3 minutes, it's a brief high energy sing-a-long with an intriguing pop-rock-soul fusion sound that's original and refreshingly new. Brown again has some enunciation issues (wait, what's she saying? on first listen, I understand a few verse lines and about half the hook), but those are null and void when this intoxicating romp gets going full steam. It's one of those songs you sing along to regardless of if you know the lyrics or not, so it's a blast of fun.

Flirty and overly exaggerated, Crazy Amazing finds Brown giving us coquette and doing a nice job at it; describing the process of falling in love, Brown is accompanied by a shimmying bassline and some smile-inducing choir-y background vocals (they just add to the ambiance), the production extremely warm and inviting. It's a song that is just begging to be used in a film trailer (if Brown's debut album makes a little noise, don't be surprised if this is the next Breathe) with its starry eyed optimism and earworm hook. Leave! feels a little bit too lenient on Brown's influences; rather than feeling like an homage to a certain time period, it feels more like a lazy aping of sound, a costume-y rendition of what she thinks the 60s sounds like. Granted, it's catchy (the percussion makes the song what it is), but it's a little too expected. The thing that makes the current trend of soulful British female singers interesting is that no one fully leans on the time period, instead bringing their own influences and sounds into the equation to make a unique perspective on their influences. Brown mostly accomplishes this, but here, it just doesn't feel that authentic.

Game Over brings to light some more urban influences and it works surprisingly well; Brown isn't exactly singing Mary J Blige type music or anything, but Game hits a lot harder than the rest of the album with its flashy horns, head nodding bassline, and distinctly modern slant. It has the type of youthful exuberance that accentuates some positives of Brown's approach, its brief running time and explosive climax key to the track's instant replayability. Crying Blood really needed to be longer; I get that most of the record features shorter songs, but to me, a song needs to be around 3 minutes at the minimum in order to be fully formed. At around 2:30, this may be a very sassy, slightly rock influenced sashay, but there could have been more to it. With the girl group harmonies and streamlined production, it's wholly dependent on Brown's performance and she certainly delivers; her faux snarl is endearing (this could have been an embarrassing mess if she had taken it too seriously) and it joins Shark in the Water as the most radio friendly pieces on the album.

VV Brown's debut album could easily be written off as yet another continuation of the current retro British soul trend in music; throw a pretty girl over an arrangement of girl-group harmonies, sing-song melodies, and a simple hook and boom, you have a masterpiece. I'm not saying I don't enjoy the music that has come about from the trend (I worship at the Church of Winehouse, after all), but it's nice to see someone like VV Brown buck the trend a bit. Brown's quirkiness is to her advantage, her colorful album slightly left of center a'la Solange Knowles' Sol-Angel & the Hadley St. Dreams. It may fall short of being as good as Knowles' 2008 return, but Brown is off to a rather solid start. If she refines her sound a bit more and learns to focus, I could see myself growing to love the 26 year old Northampton gal whose hair is nearly as big as her potential.

Wow.

2010-04-21T02:03:00.000-07:00

Brooke Hogan never had a chance at being normal. Granted, not everyone is born into an ideal living situation, but there was pretty much no way that Hogan would have been anything other than the train wreck that she is. The blonde glamazon, born into the first family of wrestling (and, as it turns out, pure unadulterated insanity), has been put on the pipeline to success by her father from an early age (i.e. she was going to be his little dancing kewpie doll no matter what she thought); beginning with a VH1 special about Brooke's struggles to get a music career going that turned into runaway hit Hogan Knows Best, it seemed that Hogan has always been under the microscope.

Now on her second reality show (7th season overall, for those keeping tabs at home), Hogan has branched out into music, something first explored during Hogan as Hulk more or less begged somebody to sign his daughter to a deal. Finally, the man-who-was-rolled-in-Cheetos got an inebriated Scott Storch (don't believe me? read his Details interview) to sign Hogan. After an underwhelming debut album (commercially as well as critically), we finally have the long awaited (snicker) opus that is Brooke Hogan's second album.

Oh, and how epic it actually turned out to be. Strip is just one of several glossy faux urban tracks meant for the nearest bootleg strip club. Granted, it's probably the best track on the album, though Hogan's whispery vocals try desperately to be sexy and alluring but end up sounding like a bad Britney imitation. The production is what makes the song, the melody extremely catchy (trust me, you will be singing the extremely goofy lyrics by the end of the song, whether you want to or not) and the hypnotic grind actually conducive to some serious grooving. Handcuffed has some serious disconnect between the lyrics and rest of the song, as this extremely sunny cupcakes-and-candycanes disco-influenced uptempo has some confusing S&M/Stockholm Syndrome allusions (tie me up ‘cause I'm in love with you?) that are equally as disturbing as they are ridiculous. The keyboard riffs are irritatingly derivative with their constant robotic tics and the autotune makes Hogan's vocals nearly unrecognizable; either she's smothered by layers of background vocals or she sounds like she's auditioning for a guest spot on the next T-Pain album. If she wanted to do this lyrical theme, it needed to be better fleshed out and it would have been more believable as a darker song. Ruff Me Up sounds like a near note-for-note rip off of Womanizer. I heard the comparisons before I listened to the album, but I figured it was a case of Britney fans hearing something that wasn't there or something done by Hogan's publicity team to draw up buzz for her album. It sounds exactly like Spears's song, from the more spoken verses to the repetitive hook and aggressive production. Flo Rida is of course the musical equivalent of white noise and it just sounds like Brooke heard Womanizer and thought her best bet for getting radio play was to emulate the former number one hit. If it had just been influenced by it, I would be alright with it, but it's too literal of an interpretation to be taken as something other than a desperate bid for attention.

Speaking of desperate bids for attention, we have Dear Mom..., the track that most explicitly talks about Hogan's extremely dysfunctional family life. Instead of talking about the situation as a whole or tell about how it effected her personally (both options I would have been alright with), she turns this into an attack on Mrs. Cheeto (Linda Hogan) and basically implies that she's a bad mother, she's fake, etc. But don't worry Linda, Brooke still loves you. This is such a manipulative song (its aggression is dulled by the condescending "but I love you anyway" vibe), but it's not surprising considering the source. Structurally, the song isn't bad, but the lyrical content/delivery/intent is too much to get past. You'll Never Be Like Him and songs of its ilk really don't fit with the vibe of the record. I like my fair share of random records and artistically diverse efforts, but this acoustic pop midtempo just doesn't fit in with the rest of the record. This is the type of music that Brooke came into the music industry singing and honestly, it fits her voice a lot better than the more dance/urban material present here. I still say that another singer could have eviscerated this song, but she actually holds her own, which is more than I personally expected.

Redemption is yet another self-righteous hater song that lost me pretty quickly. The album's title actually filled me with hope that we'd get songs that let us inside the fame a bit to the woman that Brooke Hogan really is; how do you deal with all the media scrutiny? What has your fame taught you? How are you moving on from the current controversy into the next phase of your life? No, we get none of this. We get an overly dramatic wannabe-intro with no structure (this is just 3 minutes of Brooke spinning her wheels) and a heck of a lot of caterwauling. I don't get how this is considered an actual track, as the "verses" are mumbled platitudes about phoenixes rising and not stopping and the hook is a brief explosion of nonsense. BeDDable is one of the more "Brooke Hogan trying to be down" tracks and is as ridiculous as the title indicates (is that a boob joke?). The production actually isn't bad, as Hogan gets some laidback snaps and subtle guitar for this sensual midtempo. However, you just don't believe her, as Brooke Hogan talking about rolling it up and sex being off the chain is too much play acting for me to accept. Brooke Hogan singing r&b music is manageable, but come on, at least pretend like your music is genuine. Once again, edit the song just a bit and give it to someone else because this is not a song for Brooke. One That Got Away tries to merge the two worlds of the record to very bland results; as is the case with most of the rest of the record, the melody has some potential, but Brooke sinks into the background instead of being a force on the song. Hogan's former boyfriend, rapper Yannique "Stacks" Baker, adds a tolerable verse at the end, but it's still an extremely lazy (it feels like a song in its infancy stage, not a full fledged track) "summery" urban ballad with some decent piano flourishes.

For the longest time, I had some major sympathy for Brooke Hogan. I mean, your dad is an atrocious parent, your mother is a bit of a gold digger, and your brother is an entitled punk, so I can only imagine that home life was not terribly pleasant down in Florida. However, the more I've watched her grow (not by my own free will, as VH1 reruns have been seared into my brain), the more I see that she's really enjoying what attention she can get, regardless of the connotations of said attention. After the laughable cover art was released to wide ridicule, I knew Hogan was lapping this up, possibly due to her own lack of (positive) attention at home and the messy divorce that her parents were going through. Overall, The Redemption is her attempt at being taken seriously, which is one of the worst ideas she could have went for. There is no stratosphere that would recognize Brooke Hogan as a legitimate pop star, so I wish she would have amplified the (intentional) camp/cheese factor by about a dozen more notches and let loose a sonic boom of epic proportions. Sadly, we have to settle for ham fisted ballads, some awkward trips into her psyche (keep your hands in the car at all times, kids), and so-awful-I-have-to-listen-to-them-400-times stripper-ready club bangers that make Britney Spears look like Susan Boyle. In a word, Redemption is pretty hoRRible.

Delta Dawn, What's That Flower You Have On?

2010-04-14T23:54:00.000-07:00

The soap opera has been one of the least likely tools for yielding stars. One look at the ridiculous plot, muscled leading men, and dramatic pauses and you immediately think that there's not a stitch of talent in the entire ensemble. While you've not seen a tremendous amount of mainstream crossover success in recent years, soap operas are responsible for many well known celebrities, including but not limited to John Stamos, Kelly Ripa, and Eva Longoria-Parker.

Australia is no different than the United States, apparently, as Delta Goodrem clearly demonstrates. Starring on the popular soap Neighbours, Goodrem finally gained the international recognition that she had been working toward, the increased profile helping her to become one of the biggest pop stars in Australia. In July 2008, she took a crack at the often fickle American market with Delta, her third studio record that featured tracks from her previous two. But how did she fare?

Possessionless is my favorite song on the record, mostly for how divinely gorgeous the melody is and his effortless the song seems to be. It flows well thanks to the increased use of strings and the lack of production that keeps the track within reasonable range. Even when the amped up hook erupts, its surprisingly sublime and tender, something that some of the record should have noted. Goodrem's delivery is feathery and lenient on finesse, but there's no denying that her voice is still strong enough to carry the song. It's refreshing in its emotional nakedness, a listen that's undeniably catchy and carried a bit of weight to it. One Day put me in mind of something Shakira would do, albeit very vaguely. It has that type of mystical, worldly-ish atmosphere (is that a sitar I hear?) on the sparse verses while the hook works extremely well with limited instrumentation and heavier background vocals. The driving percussion is a nice touch, one that keeps interest (when all else fails, tempo tempo tempo!) and allows Goodrem to flex a little personality. You Will Only Break My Heart brings out a little bit of a quirkier side to Goodrem, adding in some tempo, handclaps, and sing-song background vocals to this insecure uptempo that's a needed addition to the record. While Goodrem is a strong piano player whose talents add sophistication and sheen to the record, it's nice to see her step a bit out of her box and try a more fleshed out sound; it's one that actually compliments her voice and puts her in the class of Ingrid Michaelson-ish coffeehouse chicks that she sounds comfortable with.

Bare Hands actually strays a bit from the typical piano/guitar singer-songwriter mode, the keyboards providing almost an electronic edge during the lilting hook. It works in the sense that it shows Goodrem is capable of singing other genres (she shines on the darker sections of the song), as this sounds made for the radio. Though the spoken ending is unnecessary (aren't all spoken sections on pop songs?), overall it's a nice change of pace that tones down the volume (well, some) and previews a potential direction change for the genial pop star. One of the tracks culled from Goodrem's previous two albums, Born to Try is a rollicking ballad whose heart is as big as its hook. Goodrem's performance is sunny and strangely motivating, as this made-for-graduation anthem reaches toward the skies even more with each passing minute. The ending may be just a touch shrill (if there's one lesson I could pass along to Goodrem, it'd be that the art of subtlety isn't a bad thing), but overall it's a slick, broad reaching call to arms that's impossible not to pull from your library on an off day. Woman is extremely delicate and lacks the type of full throttle approach that some of the rest of the album has. A song concerning the lack of self-esteem and a wounded relationship (all she wants to hear that she's beautiful, darn it!), it actually has a backbone and some self-awareness that female pop stars should take note of; you can be independent and headstrong and still be okay with being loved by someone. It doesn't have to be this lyrical dichotomy and Goodrem fills in the gray areas of life beautifully, the connection to said lyrics proving to be one of the mightiest on the record.

Delta Goodrem is generally let down by the production team, the type of overly enthusiastic bombast that has made many a solid record unlistenable being practiced by people who should clearly know better. It's a well written and performed singer-songwriter record with big hooks and some surprising vulnerability. Goodrem is a very clean, inoffensive personality who seems eager to please, so while Delta is pretty good, she seems to have the chops to make something great in the future. If you like your pop angsty with a touch of class, Delta Goodrem is the woman for you.

When It's Time to Change It's Time to Rearrange: Ledisi Comes Out Swingin'

2010-04-14T22:48:00.000-07:00

I pride myself on being the one who knows about the fledgling artists that nobody's ever heard of, the champion of the little man, the underdog's number one fan. It takes a lot to surprise/confuse me, but that's just the reaction I had when Ledisi was nominated for Best New Artist at the 2008 Grammys (an award she eventually lost to Amy Winehouse). Ledisi? Ledisi who? Where did that come from? Of course, I hadn't heard her music before (not many people had, truth be told), but this type of recognition must mean she's something pretty special, right?

2009 brought about the release of Turn Me Loose, an album purported to be a chance for the usually musically reserved New Orleans native to finally have some fun and the official follow-up to her Grammy nominated album Lost & Found. Knockin' has some serious shades of Tina Turner, which is surprising considering her last album was extremely placid adult-contemporary-ish soul music. With neck snapping bass and some palpable grit, it's the sound you wish the rest of the record would have, that type of swamp-y funk drawing out Ledisi's intense attitude and defiant swagger. Runnin' is a nice way to kick off the album, a type of halfway formed track that's a bite sized morsel of sound that could have been strengthened into a cohesive track quite easily. It's a bit toned down from Knockin' but still has some zing to it, the rocky atmosphere providing an emotional landscape for Ledisi's more unrestrained calls. Trippin' takes the hellcat-ness of Knockin' and turns that into a very icy midtempo that focuses heavier on her vocal, which is deliciously nonchalant. It's almost more effective for her to draw it back just a bit and shoot the breeze over the subtle percussion and tender guitars. Trippin' may not be terribly exciting (you may be turned off by how even keel it is), but it's musically impressive.

I Need Love is lighter and airier than most of the heavier rest of the record, which makes for a nice change of pace, if nothing else. One thing I like about Ledisi is that her vulnerable tracks don't turn into overwrought pity parties for herself; for the duration of the record, strength is a key attribute, one that gets manifested in different ways throughout the duration of Turn Me Loose. She questions her ability to be strong, she flexes her (figurative) muscles, and everything in between. Percussion-heavy midtempo Alone is a plea for honesty and communication, the type of last ditch effort for answers that many a person has had to experience before there's some cosmic breakthrough. The textured production and interesting elements (the back-up vocals lean toward being retro girl group-y) keep this from being a "typical" filler track, Ledisi continuing to assert her musical might through impassioned cries and a vibe that separates herself from the pack.

One of the main problems that I ran into on the album is the fact that thematically it's a bit repetitive, as five songs have the word changes in the title and there are several other "clusters" that make the record less than cohesive. Everything Changes has enough positive elements to it that it's worth a listen; one of the few tracks to incorporate horns, it's got a pulse to it, but that pulse is dedicated to some of the more eye rolling platitudes on the record. I realize that not every song can be a total winner, but this just feels like a self-help book set to music. There's a trend on the record of trying to provide these overarching pieces of advice to everybody and it just doesn't feel genuine. Love Never Changes feels like something Gladys Knight would have recorded (albeit more along the lines of a throwaway album track) with that type of well worn groove that seemed cherrypicked from the 1970s. It has good intentions and a sunny hook, but it has chick flick written all over it, Ledisi's wise performance not able to save the somewhat limp melody and slightly cheesy back-up vocals. Goin' Thru Changes isn't a bad song on its own; it just comes on the heels of so many songs cut from the same cloth that it feels almost neutered. This feels like something from her first album, an album that I enjoyed but it drags down any sort of musical progress made by the other tracks. I realize that she can't go from random (albeit extremely talented) vocalist one minute to Tina Turner in the next, but it makes her sonic evolution feel half-hearted.

When Ledisi just lets her hair down and has fun, Turn Me Loose is a delicious treat packed with grooves for days. However, she tends to get a little self-righteous and preachy, leading the record down the path to self-help-book-on-tape as opposed to colorful funk explosion. A little bit of each style is fine, but when five song titles mention changes, you've hit a bit of an artistic rut. Still, there's enough "feel good-ness" about this record to recommend it, especially if you're an r&b fan looking for some fresh blood. Leave the preaching for India.Arie, girl.

Stock Up on Your Cotton Candy and Take a Trip Into P!nk's Funhouse

2010-04-08T23:44:00.000-07:00

Everyone takes a break-up in different ways. Some are extremely emotional and cry at the mention of their ex's name or reminder of their past; some use the pain to get introspective about their own flaws and assess where they are in their evolution. Still, others get angry, shredding clothes, burning photos, and destroying any remnants of their past relationship, mostly as a defense for a secretively vulnerable heart.

Alecia "P!nk" Moore does one heck of a combination of those three on Funhouse, her fifth studio album and the release that has solidified her place in the upper echelons of the pop music hierarchy. Generally known for her carefree, sometimes snotty attitude and seemingly endless energy, her ballads shine here with the authenticity that has become her calling card. I Don't Believe You shows the type of tenacity that you come to expect from Moore, as it's a ballad done with a clenched fist and a strong will. It's such a raw listen that you almost feel like you shouldn't be listening, as her vocals are equally delicate and jagged. It's arranged beautifully, centering on the vocal and using the soft acoustic guitars and warm strings to accentuate the emotion in her voice. Simply stunning. Mean has that same type of barroom atmosphere that, say, her duet with Stephen Tyler does, but it's a lot more restrained and touching. One of the more intriguingly written songs I've heard in a while, it's whimsical and pensive, an honest opening up of the issues that Moore faced in her divorce from moto-cross icon Carey Hart. It gives a fresh perspective to such a well worn concept; couple that with an intoxicating vocal performance and you have some magic.

Crystal Ball is stripped down and simple, a hushed ballad that's heavy on the vulnerability and self-awareness. The only real elements of the song are some gentle back-up vocals and an acoustic guitar, which is the type of atmosphere where P!nk shines the most. The song's imagery is unique and memorable, the country-ish atmosphere giving Moore another sonic background to exercise her considerable vocals on. If there's one compliment I can give to the Philadelphian it would be that she knows just when to pull back and let the song speak for itself. Before you start thinking that the entire record is some big sapfest, know that there are several uptempos that lighten the mood and often mask painful messages with a lot of bite. Bad Influence is a tongue-in-cheek romp with slightly campy lyrics and a whole lot of needed silliness to balance out the emotional weight of some of the other tracks. With some ska influences, it's yet another musical veer for the obviously musically ambiguous Instigator of Underwear, though she always has very good instincts about what'll work for her. Though the emphasis isn't on how she sounds, the speedy verses and balls-to-the-wall hook are great when set against one another.

The most rock-heavy song on the record, Ave Mary A may have some semi-spoken verses, but the hook is blistering and a sight to behold as Pink shows brilliant command and confidence. This type of arrangement (everything feels supersized, from the drums to the guitar playing) could have swallowed many singers whole, but there's enough grit and experience in Pink's aura to where she doesn't let it get away from her. It's a definite head nodder that may not directly address her divorce (the unofficial theme of the album) but packs a definite emotional wallop. Smokey and laidback, One Foot Wrong may not hit you immediately as one to listen to, but it has an interesting horn section and some nice blues-ish elements to keep it in the back of your mind. On an extremely catchy record (as evidenced by how deep they went with single releases), one can't forget the unassumingly menacing hook; it reminds me very faintly of something from one of Lisa Marie Presley's record, that type of snarling rawness permeating the thoughtful production.

Alecia Moore does it all. On Funhouse, she kicks you in the balls, holds your hand lovingly, and dances like there's nobody watching, experiencing more emotional vulnerability and complexity than past albums. Her voice is as dexterous and mighty as ever, connecting to the type of rawness that most of her contemporaries shy away from. She still may not have a "classic" record under her belt yet, but the way things are looking, P!nk can't go wrong.

Elliott Yamin is Down For the Count

2010-04-08T22:16:00.000-07:00

A surprise hit can be both a blessing and a curse for an artist. While anyone would be foolish to turn down commercial success in a dwindling music industry, success breeds expectations and expectations are nothing but blueprints for failure. One can begin to second guess every choice they make in an attempt to recreate the conditions that allowed for their initial success, which drains creativity and makes music more about the financial gain than the art.

Elliott Yamin is obviously feeling that pressure. The American Idol alum signed to a small independent company, so I assumed he would have a steady but quiet career. Lo and behold, his first single was tremendously successful, pushing his debut LP to gold status and helping to create some serious buzz around the young soul singer. How does he follow up a from-left-field success like that?

Written after the passing of his mother (who was a prominent figure in his audience section on Idol), Someday has to walk one of the thinnest tight ropes that exists in music; the tribute song is something that can be extremely powerful or cheesy and exploitive, depending on the execution and motivation behind it. Someday does a fine job, adding enough tempo to avoid being saccharine and featuring Yamin's most "connected" vocal of the record. Instead of wallowing in the loss, it celebrates the life, the optimistic lyric and just-subtle-enough back-up vocals making for a warm send-off of both his beloved mother and this record. Cold Heart exudes a certain style that I like seeing from Yamin. The song is right in his wheelhouse, as the decidedly 70s vibe matches his vocals perfectly. He seems rejuvenated by the change in atmosphere, a noticeable boost in confidence occurring during the swaggering verse and dismissive hook. It's an organic moment on a record that tends to lean toward the artificial and the type of record that shows the fire that Yamin brought on Idol. Know Better reminds me of Movin' On from his first record in terms of vibe and presentation; a warm production, layered with handclaps and sturdy percussion, Know has a little bit of venom to it. The hook gives you shades of rock-soul music, another shade of Yamin that he's not explored as of yet. Once again, you get a solid vocal from the consistently powerful Virginian (seriously, I've never heard him sound bad, from the show to now) that's full of command and keeps the song on solid ground.

You isn't a bad song, but it just sounds like somebody else's song. Before even looking at the album credits, I thought it sounded like a Ne-Yo knock off and what do you know? Ne-Yo's production team wrote the song. So basically, throw some acoustic guitar onto a breezy r&b midtempo and there you have it. Granted, it's executed well, but it feels too assembly line to have that much of an impact. Apart From Me fairs slightly better, though its clichéd lyrics keep it from being the song that it could. It has a dynamic structure that's quite interesting, but the overproduction and overall blandness make it a one-and-done listen. The vocal may keep your attention, but there's nothing in it that'll reach out and grab you.

Can't Keep Loving You (From a Distance) is paint-by-numbers contemporary r&b; that's probably my main complaint about the record. There are spots of genuineness and originality, but for the most part, Fight for Love is like a giant mash-up of a Ne-Yo/Chris Brown/(insert anonymous r&b singer) record, which is beneath Yamin's talent capabilities. There's nothing inherently wrong with Can't Keep, as it's a well-sung, competently constructed ballad with a weighty hook and relatable subject matter. It's just got no fire behind it, nothing musically interesting enough to keep you listening for even the entire duration of the song; it's lazy r&b and a bit of a turn off. This Step Alone works much better when it's more stripped down during the intro, though the rest of the song doesn't stray too far away. Once again, a great voice does not need pounds of production heaped on it; more production/things going on does not equate with a better listening experience. The piano may be a nice touch, but the rest of the song pretty much just treads water, Yamin's lilting vocal simply delicious on the touchingly independent hook. Don't Be Afraid has shades of Jordin Sparks' One Step at a Time with its rollicking bassline and laidback stroll. Yamin gets to unleash a little bit of attitude, as he gets to play the lothario for one of the only times on the record. It's not sleazy, though, as Yamin's delivery is very genial and open hearted while the lyricism has lost most of the cliché that weighs down the record.

In the understatement of the year, Fight For Love was a tremendous step back for Elliott Yamin, at least creatively; sure, he may still be in typically fine voice and sells the material like the rent was due tomorrow, but that type of passion doesn't cover up the bland production and increasingly cheesy lyricism. Thanks to Wait for You, his budget on tiny Hickory Records seems to have increased, but big name collaborators don't necessarily mean quality product. If I had my way, Yamin would record more of a traditional r&b record, the type of record typically made by people who wouldn't know the difference between Stargate and Watergate. And trust me, that's a compliment of the highest order, as Stargate tend to rehash their formula for making music. Until Yamin can shed what commercial expectations that he has left and gets to the root of his artistry, he'll continue to make mildly pleasant records with zero after taste.

'Real'ly Disappointing: Jill Scott's Third Time Isn't a Charm

2010-04-03T16:34:00.000-07:00

As the old adage goes, breaking up is hard to do. While it may be cliché, it's certainly true, as I've personally never had a "good" break-up, whatever that means. When you become so attached to someone, it's painful to let them go, even if it's just a transition period from lover to friend. Jealousy emerges, hurtful words are flung like rocks with a slingshot, and before you know it, the one you used to dream of has inspired nightmare-ish behavior.

Jill Scott takes a bit of a different approach to her break-ups, it seems. After divorcing her husband (the man who inspired Scott's opus He Loves Me (Lyzel in E-Flat)), it was unclear what direction Jilly from Philly would go with her music. Scott's always infused love as a central theme into her music, but would her next bit of recording be jaded and bitter from life experience? Not exactly. It seems that divorce has gotten the songstress more in touch with her sensual side, as a good portion of The Real Thing is dedicated to matters of the flesh. Crown Royal may be just shy of two minutes in length, but it's the most explicit that I've heard Scott go in talking about sex, though she never comes right out and uses more colorful terms. With only some handclaps and heated production, it's simple and direct, with talks of hands on hips, breathing heavily, and arching backs, including one semi-goofy engine metaphor. It's confident and assured, probably the theme of the record. My Love is calmer and less suggestive, though the attitude is still there. Using some soft strings and snaps, Scott delivers the type of song that is usually accompanied by a thumping bassline and autotune; comparing her love to the current love of an ex, it manages to retain the class and poise that one expects from a Jill Scott record. With a sly delivery, Scott never diminishes her worth to be with her man; it's the type of you-should-be-with-me-but-if-you-don't-I-won't-die song that always will be embraced by me. Celibacy Blues is interesting, if only for the juxtaposition of lyrical content and sound. While Scott opines the decline of activity that her little black book has received, the delivery is rather beautiful, fusing elements of Anita Baker and blues guitar into a rather refreshing update of Scott's sound. The lyrical content, however, feels almost beneath Scott, as she just has better ways of saying stuff like this in her. With the rest of the record harping on sex instead of naturally including it, by the time you get to Celibacy Blues, you'll be burnt out.

Hate on Me confuses me to this day, as Jill Scott isn't exactly a magnet for internet hating. Though I admire the aggression and fire that she displays on this track (it's probably her "biggest" vocal), any type of "hater" track automatically loses points with me, just because it's ridiculous and shows that any type of criticism can get to you. This is the type of track that a Rihanna or Beyonce should be doing, not someone who's supposedly this laidback earth goddess that Scott's portrayed herself as being. Let It Be introduces a whole lot of percussion (a musical element that hasn't been the most prominent in Scott's repertoire), as this accept-all-music-at-face-value midtempo seems to be both a declaration of being musically open minded (I concur) and an excuse for her to make whatever music she wants (eh, not so much). It feels more like an intro that an actual track, as several tracks on The Real Thing clock in at just under the two minute mark. The Real Thing, the track that Let it Be flows into, is the third unusually combative track that kicks the record off. It's just a complete turn off, from the cocky lyrics to the distant, apathetic hook and the atmosphere that just doesn't suit her voice. With a prickly electric guitar, it's got very light rock tinges, but it doesn't say "Jill Scott" to me. It may be where I'm used to hearing her a certain way, but this just reads like change for the sake of change, instead of any particular change of direction for her music.

Wanna Be Loved is the type of track that I expected to hear from a recent divorcee. Instead of celebrating her newfound ability to get down with who she pleases or challenging other women to be better than her, she's being very self-aware and expressing the type of thoughtfulness, doubt, and vulnerability that she does so well. Combine the light falsetto hook and the tender lyricism and you get a track that Scott manipulates just right. Rarely overdoing it, she gives a voice to those who've been through the same thing and comes off very human and relatable. If you're missing Scott doing what's in her comfort zone, be prepared for Whenever You're Around, my favorite track on the record. Scott has this ability to sing very downbeat lyrics over seemingly happy arrangements and make them that much more complex that they would have been otherwise. It's no different on this head nodder, the lonely heroine yearning for more attention from her neglectful mate. However, said loneliness isn't felt, as the groovin' bassline and subtle back-up vocals mask any perceived weakness. Insomnia goes a little more straightforward than Whenever, an emotionally detached Scott telling us of late nights spent waiting on her man. Her jazz-influenced runs are stunning, as usual, and the conviction that she delivers the affecting lyrics is just enough. Though she does a nice job on more uptempo records, I've always had a soft spot for her ballads, Insomnia being no different. Sneaking in a little spoken word at the end, it's extremely solid.

Jill Scott is in that upper echelon of artists that I will buy just about anything from. However, I have to admit that The Real Thing was a disappointing release. You never immediately take a shine to a Scott record (usually it takes a handful of listens before you really "get it"), but I still have a hard time digesting this September 2007 release. I admire the lyrical honesty that Scott continually utilizes and she performs the heck out of whatever is put in front of her, but it's too polarizing of a record. She's either mad at the world, telling us (in depth) about her sexual appetite, or performing material that's not quite as good as her first two albums. One of the best things about Jill Scott's first two records were that they were extremely balanced in content, which isn't really the case here. I would recommend this album, though, as Scott's pure talent outweighs any negatives about a particular release, but it's a real shame that she dropped the ball.

Proud to Be an Amerykah-n: Miss Badu Retains Her Consistency

2010-03-29T21:40:00.000-07:00

How do you respond to being challenged? Is the prospect of being able to "show your stuff" and prove your worth exhilarating enough to bring out your best? Or do you weaken under the weight of expectations, shunning the difficult and sticking to the known, the expected, the safe?

If the listening habits of the American music fan are to be believed, most people fall under the latter category, especially when it comes to buying music. Case in point: Erykah Badu. While Badu has always been a bit "out there", she stayed generally around her genre's nucleus and created intelligent yet gloriously melodic music that was often heaped with praise. But on 2008's New Amerykah Part One (4th World War), she went a little off center and got some of the lowest sales of her career. What does this lack of success mean for New Amerykah Part Two (Return of the Ankh)?

In terms of its success, that remains to be seen, but in terms of sound, you get a harkening back to the sound that made her career on 1997's Baduizm with some slight tweaks. Ankh concerns matters of the heart and focuses on the melodies, as opposed to political messages and pre-programmed tracks like on 4th World War. 20 Feet Tall plays like an extended intro; however, it's a damn good one. Backed by some twinkling keyboards, Badu's voice stands as the only other thing on the track, as it is decidedly sturdy and confident. With ethereal production and smooth vocals, it goes down nice and easy, a good way of opening up the album without being too out there or overwhelming. It's such a peaceful, almost nighttime listen, punctuated by some oddly funny cheering at the tail end. Produced by Madlib, Incense is a transitory instrumental; generally, I find instrumentals to be filler tracks for the creatively blocked mind, but this is one of the rare exceptions that stand tall with the rest of the tracks. Dreamy and sounding like a slightly frillier piece of material from 4th World War, it balances a gritty underbelly with subtle flourishes to make for an intoxicating listen. The addition of ghostly chanting toward the end is ominous and a nice touch, as her voice becomes more of an instrument.

In the tradition of such end-of-Erykah-Badu album classics such as I Want You and Telephone, Out My Mind, Just in Time stretches some 10 minutes and three indistinctly defined "parts". For the most part, this is an uncluttered jazzy exercise in simplicity and romance for this "recovering undercover over lover". Part one is placid and soulful (just a piano and Erykah), sounding like something straight from the earthy Mama's Gun while part two adds a hint of tempo (the bassline is dizzying and the vocals grow more frenzied) and part three is all instrumental and feels like the calm after the stormy second part. Produced by Ta'Raach, Gone Baby, Don't Be Long is one of the more straightforward romantic songs about not wanting your loved one to leave your side; it's very hushed and the refrain is simple and effective. The tender back-up vocals and hopeful vocals are vulnerable yet solid and the unfettered approach is good to see from Badu. It may not be the most touching listen ever, but sometimes I feel like she puts up walls and doesn't let the listener completely in sans a few moments per album. Here, though, you get Badu at her loving best.

Fall in Love (Your Funeral) may sound like a typical Badu song, but her humor decides to come into play to wonderful effect. An extremely self-deprecating warning potential suitors against falling in love with her, it's surprisingly feel good and full of swagger; with some soft keys and taunting vocals, this is intergalactic soul at its finest. A song like this could have quickly slipped into cartoon territory if not handled properly, but Badu always provides enough balance in her music to where, even in her cheekiest moments, she's poised. Sampling the same track that Junior M.A.F.I.A sampled to get their mid-90s smash of the same name, Turn Me Away (Get Munny) has an elastic bassline and a carefree delivery from Badu that keeps the vibe of Ankh more lighthearted. Whenever she gets a chance to inject some of her personality, it's always a golden moment, especially since she knows how to give you just the right amount of attitude without going overboard. While it may be tongue-in-cheek, it's still a quality exercise in fusing soul, hip hop, and edges of funk.

Window Seat is luxurious and extremely atmospheric; if there was a track you can just vibe to on Ankh, it would be Window Seat with its glistening bassline and effortless hook. The metaphor is written beautifully and there's a lived in feel to her writing that had yet to fail her five albums into her career. Add in some stomps and claps on a slightly rougher bridge and it's a track that showcases a lot of Badu's strengths in one five minute stretch. Umm Hmm first put me in mind of Jennifer Lopez's I'm Real (Remix) due to its sweltering verses that stroll by passionately. It feels like such a throwback listen with its barbecue ready cool and sample-heavy hook. Though it's not as sing-a-long friendly as most of the rest of the record (the verses are mumbling/crooning and the hook is a little disorganized), it's a solid album track that works in the context of the record. I only wish the hook was as heated and sensual as the verses are, but c'est la vie.

While Return of the Ankh may not be as sonically or lyrically challenging as 4th World War, it feels like a return to Erykah Badu's roots, as love becomes the question, the answer, and the method of which to come up with the answer. If 4th World War turned you off with its almost cold production and lack of instant melodies, take solace in the fact that Return of the Ankh is comfortable, spiritual, and heartfelt. As always, it's intelligent and thought provoking soul music yet doesn't take itself too seriously; that sense of humor has always been Badu's secret weapon and its present in spades here. Some may see Ankh as a step backwards for Badu, but it's more of an acknowledgement of her past and a sign of her growth, as her life experience makes Ankh an affective listen and the best album of 2010 thus far.

Return to Sender

2010-03-29T21:38:00.000-07:00

The covers album is something that I love and something that I loathe. It's always interesting to hear how an artist chooses to interpret songs, especially since the songs they select generally have some type of meaning to them. It could be songs from their childhood that they have fond memories of, songs that inspired them to become a musician, or songs with a set theme; however, too often they're used by a struggling artist looking for an oh-yeah-I-remember-that-let-me-buy-that-album type of remembrance from the buying public that has largely shunned their latest original material.

Craig David seems to be teetering toward the latter extreme. Bursting onto the scene in 2001, David's success has gradually been dwindling, to the point where he finally parted ways with Atlantic Records after his last underwhelming release Trust Me. How does an artist who used to two step all over the charts reintroduce himself to a public that has largely forgotten about him? Why, a covers album, of course.

My main fault with the album is song choice. There's a sizeable chunk of the record that reads like Soul Music for Dummies, instead of a listing that shows knowledge about the genre David supposedly holds near and dear. If the songs had been altered in any way, I could have overlooked an obvious choice or two, but sadly, they've not. I Heard it Through the Grapevine simply doesn't remotely measure up to the incomparable original; the production feels a little too plastic to be affecting while David's vocal doesn't pack enough emotional grit to really warrant much listener reaction. He's got a nice voice, but in keeping the same arrangement and trying to sing it like the original, he loses a little bit of credibility in my eyes. Let's Stay Together is really good wedding karaoke, at best; again, David has too polished of a delivery to get any juice out of this well worn classic, while the production's sheen takes away from how raw the song could be if allowed. Instead of a heartfelt declaration of commitment and devotion, this version comes off as a bit soulless and banal. If Al Green was no longer with us, he would be rolling in his grave at this.

Signed, Sealed, Delivered (I'm Yours) is a bit better, as it manages to capture the joy and passion of the original and remain rather catchy in the process. David exercises his falsetto to positive results, riding the slightly busy production better than I personally expected. Of course, it's nothing compared to the original and it's yet another obvious choice, but he does a little more to make the song "his", so to speak. One More Lie (Standing in the Shadows) is more of what I expected the album to be like. Using a Four Tops sample for the chorus, David makes a completely modern dance track that's creative and more suited to his vocals. Pulsating and readymade for clubs (the bass is insane), it's well-crafted and David's confidence on this type of track is noticeable. He generally has some charisma, but on tracks like this, he sounds a lot more natural than, say, Let's Stay Together.

Yet another Stevie Wonder cover, For Once in My Life has shades of Elliott Yamin in it, which automatically makes it one of the highlights. David seems to do the best on the more joyful uptempo cuts that allows him some room to cut loose vocally. Though he's not exactly a spring chicken in his career, he's still a young man and some of the material he's chosen has been a little too ill-fitting. This track is just a burst of happiness and some much needed natural energy on a record that often times feels too artificial. Overly layered and seemingly neutered, (Sittin' On) The Dock of the Bay is yet another example of an obvious song choice not panning out for David. Upon fighting through the production, he sounds alright, but it's too familiar of a song for any cover to do it justice, let alone one with smothering production and a gimmicky feel to it. Even one of the more trademark aspects of the song, the whistling, is covered up by incessant wailing and choir-y back-up vocals. Too much, Craig. Too much.

Mercy Mercy Me would be one of the better tracks on the record, as the production is kept to a minimum and Craig's performance is above average. The melody and structure of the song are so timeless that as long as anyone gave a halfway decent performance it would come out beautiful. Though David is more of a finesse singer, he connects to the lyrics like nowhere else on the record. All Alone Tonight (Stop, Look, Listen) succeeds in making you think that it's a Craig David original, as opposed to a Will Downing cover or Stylistics original. David "youths" the song up and strips away the adult contemporary shellac from Downing's version , which works well at targeting David's core audience; though David's voice doesn't do as much justice to the lyrics as Downing (and it sounds much better as a honeyed slow jam than a lightweight peppy pop song), he offers a pretty decent spin on the song.

While there are moments of true creativity on Signed, Sealed, Delivered, too often it feels like really well produced karaoke. A covers album shouldn't feel like an audition for American Idol, which is how a great portion of this album felt; David has a very capable voice and a lot of charisma, but to waste it on such well known songs is a shame. Was a new version of Let's Stay Together really necessary? Were the masses clamoring for someone to re-do I Heard it Through the Grapevine? To be a truly innovative album, I believe he should have at least sampled classic songs and built new songs around said samples, because straightforward covers aren't the most interesting approach to gaining back your audience. As a whole, I'd say just return this album to sender.

When Getting a Number One Single Goes Wrong: Jason Derulo, Please Sit Down

2010-03-28T14:42:00.000-07:00

Spontaneity is the devil. In my life, I have to plan as much as I can and be on top of everything, otherwise I tend to fall apart when things get to be a little dicey. I try and try to gain the strength to be able to deal with the seemingly endless array of obstacles that seem to find their way in front of my path, but alas, it's not to be. The "to do" list is my friend and it should be yours, too.

One thing I know I would have a hard time planning is how to respond if one of my songs blew up over night. Songwriter Jason Derulo had just that experience, as his debut single immediately rocketed up the charts and sent the then obscure former hitmaker for Danity Kane and Sean Kingston into the pantheon of "who's next". Does this album, recorded during the rise of his first single, manage to make good on his potential?

Utilizing a sample of Imogen Heap's Hide and Seek, Whatcha Say just erupted when it was released, turning Derulo from behind the scenes maestro to potential star in his own right. He takes Heap's chilling ballad and uses it on the chorus of this ooh-baby-baby-take-me-back midtempo, weighing it down with the type of vocal effects that are present throughout the album. Second single In My Head has been fairly successful in its own right, ascending to the top ten earlier this year. It's a little lighter than Whatcha Say (tempo serves Derulo well), leaning heavier on pop/rock influences on the hook. That head nodding bass is enough to keep you hooked, as Derulo's vocals are typically all over the place (very Sean Kingston) and the layering distracts from the undeniably hummable melody. Blind is one of Derulo's attempts to slow things down on the record and you know what? It's not that horrible. However, with icy piano and some finger snaps, it comes off a little distant; couple that distance with Derulo's strained delivery and it drags the song down. As with the rest of the record, the hook is built for radio (the added keyboards are nice, but slightly derivative) and any emotion that could have been wrought from the decently vulnerable (if a little cliched) lyrics is for naught.

Love Hangover sounds exactly like In My Head, so if you're biting your own style within a nine song radius, you may not have enough ideas to be doing a full album. It's slightly sped up with a foot tapping bassline but it's still the exact song; you have the obvious pop/rock elements on the hook, the vaguely dance influenced verses, and the anonymous vocals that don't really add or subtract to the song. A song about the trials and tribulations of being single, Ridin' Solo sounds like lightweight T-Pain music; it takes elements that the Nappy Boy Entertainment president has used extensively in his music (autotune, finger snaps, and repetitive hooks) and tries to shoehorn Derulo into the role of lothario. He doesn't come off terribly natural in the role, as his utter lack of any discernable personality gets in the way of him being believable most of the time. Encore tries to be the "epic" listen of the set, thanks to the cinematic-ish strings on the blasé hook and the stealth build up to said hook. It fails to be anything more than a slightly competent midtempo with a thin lyrical premise. Pay attention to how layered it is and you'll see that Derulo apparently doesn't have that high an opinion of his vocals, since there's about five Jason Derulos here doing the work that one is incapable of doing: sounding decent.

Cobbled together and shellacked in production, Jason Derulo is one of the flimsier albums I've come across in a while. Derulo's got a talent with the pen, but a limited vocal range (masked by pounds of autotune and smoke-and-mirrors tactics) and even less record presence make this album fall flat. While there are moments of creativity and genuine inspiration, they're few and far between, too few to be able to recommend the album. Until Jason Derulo has some time to figure out who he is as an artist and what he wants to say, I don't think we'll ever get anything substantive from him.

Leigh Jones is "Leavin'" Everybody in the Dust

2010-03-24T22:01:00.000-07:00

Jazz music is something that I've yet to fully embrace as a music listener. Yes, as much as I extol the virtues of having a well rounded taste and shun the musical snob, I'm not that familiar with the genre that bore us great talents in the past and has inspired contemporary music to this day. Though I'll occasionally indulge in a Diana Krall or Norah Jones album, the depth and breadth of my jazz knowledge is rather shallow.

Leigh Jones just kind of fell on my lap, so to speak. On one of my usual internet scavenger hunts, I happened upon Jones through a recommendation based on another artist that I liked. Starved for new voices and visions, I added her to my playlist, not expecting much of anything to pan out. Turns out, her brand of r&b-jazz was the right fit for my tastes and introduced me to another side of the genre I hold so dear.

Jones seems to find that the smoldering break-up song is in her comfort zone, so it's a well that she goes to a lot, often with strong results. Sick of Fools has the type of attitude you'd expect from a more uptempo number, but Jones laments the type of man she attracts on this saxophone-laced ballad. It's such a visual song in the lyrical imagery and pouting delivery that it's an interesting listening experience. When Jones is allowed to step out and show off her voice, you see she has obvious elements of Christina Aguilera mixed in with other soul sirens. The Words You Never Say shows a bit more life than the previous track, though Jones' elongated delivery and the sultry production are back. A testament to showing affection and communication with a few quirky lines tossed in to show that she's not too stuffy, Words is full on romance, muted horns and all. Again, the peak of the track is when it's just Jones doing some brief scatting and vibing with the smoky instrumentation. Jones plays the role of coquette quite well, though it's not a central part of her artistry. Have It Your Way reeks of loneliness with its whispery intro, though Jones manages to have an admirable amount of poise in her delivery that reinforces her image as a siren from long ago trapped in a musical era she may not be 100% comfortable in. It's got such a soft sigh to it that one could potentially find it underwhelming, but find a little patience and listen closely, as Jones makes this a textured, emotionally real venture into a wounded soul.

Album closer Goodbye may be the typical "epic ballad" to end a record, but that doesn't take away from its effect. If you want a clear palette to listen to Jones's voice, Goodbye delivers, the production steering clear of becoming too bloated and the vulnerable lyrics providing enough motivation for the most emotional performance on the record. There's regret, romance, conflict, and remorse, all set against some muted horns and soft piano; Jones provides a vocal that you just have to shut your eyes and enjoy. It's that type of stunning display that shows why Leigh Jones is one to pay attention to. Cold in LA has to be one of the more lyrically interesting songs I've heard in a while, as it concerns the lead-up to stardom and disillusionment with the celebrity experience. It's not one of those woe-is-me-I-have-so-many-haters anthems that self-righteous vocalists seem to think deserve to be made; it's a song about a journey and a character-based song as opposed to one that delves too personally. You can tell that Jones puts a lot of herself into the song, but there's enough disconnect to be able to look at it from a differing perspective.

But if you think this is some sad sack record for old fuddy duddies, you would be sadly mistaken. Jones does a fine job in breaking up the monotony, both in tone and topic. I'm Leavin' You is a full on blues assault, one of those songs that you have to just sit back and immerse yourself in. The piano is lush and punctuating, while Jones unleashes her inner sassy diva (her delivery is impressively animated). While the added crowd effects may turn you off (to me, they add to the atmosphere), the gospel choir adds another level to the musicality of the track. However, it's worth the price of admission for Jones's passionate delivery, just another glimpse of her vocal diversity and range. Music may be a bit of a tired subject, but Leigh presents it quite beautifully. On tracks with well worn subjects, it's all about execution and Jones doesn't disappoint, her vocal almost becoming like another instrument. The lyricism doesn't offer anything too new (in a nutshell, when she sings she puts herself in the song and you get a slice of her life presented on the stage), but the honesty that is emitted from the track is appreciative. Can't Get Enough of Your Love adopts the type of crowd effects of I'm Leavin' You, though it opts for a more gospel sounds with the jangling piano and thick handclaps. Lyrically, it exudes a little more personality (Jones can sometimes come off as too mannered) and she gets to cut loose for a few minutes. It's just a fun, extremely catchy track that is like a practice run of her live show (with shout outs to her piano player included); infectious and carefree, if you find the rest of the album a little stuffy, this is the track you should lean toward, as Jones gets to strut her stuff and strut she does.

The jazz influences on Leigh Jones's debut album are certainly pronounced, but I wouldn't necessarily call her a jazz artist, at least in the traditional sense. Instead of singing calm, piano-led ballads of love and loss, she's more of a torch singer, the kind of vampy siren that you think of when the term jazz singer is applied. There are songs that delve heavier into that style of music, but this is a delightfully soulful exercise in "new school meets old school". It's different from the brand of soul-jazz that, say, Chrisette Michele sings, in that Jones's much is a touch more produced (for the most part) and the jazz instrumentation isn't on every track. A jazz record, an r&b album, whatever you declare the first album from Leigh Jones doesn't matter in that it's a simply gorgeous collection of music with all sorts of different hues for the talented vocalist to try on. It may not always be classifiable, but this music is always good.

Monica Gets Her Sea Legs Back...and I Couldn't Be Happier.

2010-03-22T23:01:00.000-07:00

I'm always really curious about the process of making an album. Though I've read countless interviews where my favorite recording artists recount the hours spent toiling for the perfect song, I've barely been able to see it, except on a handful of occasions. Making the Band exposed fledgling girl group Danity Kane and their creative process, which immediately built a connection with their fans and made the music much more personal. Fantasia For Real just wrapped its first season, showcasing the former American Idol winner's journey through record label drama and guiding the tumultuous waters of contemporary r&b.

Joining their company is Monica Arnold, former child star and most famous for being half of The Boy is Mine. After several albums of mostly staying true to herself, Arnold tried to capitalize on the snap music trend on Everytime Tha Beat Drops, the lead single from The Makings of Me. Needless to say, the single underperformed and the album did as well, though Arnold kept her record deal. After years of back-and-forth single choices, arguments over the album booklet, and concerns about her fanbase, we get her fifth solo record, hot on the heels of the BET reality show of the same name.

The track I was most looking forward to hearing on the album was Love All Over Me, one of the several pieces of music that had genuinely moved me upon hearing the very rough snippet on Monica's show. And honestly? I'm disappointed. The production is smothering on this stately this-could-be-construed-as-really-gross-but-its-oddly-romantic-if-you-take-it-that-way slow jam, weighing down what could have been the stunner of the record. The show made it seem that the song would be a little more organic than the finished product turned out to be (the vocal is obviously stifled and manipulated), as the final track has way too much going on (especially in the chorus) to fully digest. A little fine tuning from Bryan Michael Cox could have made Love leap into the stratosphere with other elite Monica songs, but it just has to settle for simply being good. Based upon a sample from a Deniece Williams track, first single Everything to Me is light, airy, and bursting with those warm and gushy feelings that your mother warned you about. It may be a bit too subtle for its own good, but the vocal is magnificent and the production is classy and refined. With a hook that goes on for days and one of the prettiest bridges on the record, this Missy Elliott production is Monica recapturing the essence of her past music but framing it against where she's at in her life. The vocals may have matured and the meanings changed, but the talent is undeniable.

One of the several tempo changers in the album, If You Were My Man (Betcha) just makes you want to let your hair down and head to the roller rink. Again assisted by the venerable Elliott, Monica rides the dazzling bassline perfectly, the strutting production never going too far into teenybopper territory. Featuring a brief rap verse from the Atlanta resident, it's a glittering disco challenge to a potential suitor, but Monica manages to do it with smile firmly planted on face and lots of personality exuded. One of my main complaints about current r&b is that the fun is taken out of it (it's almost like we're afraid to smile), but this is a needed blast of energy. Album closer Believing in Me was one of the few tracks that weren't previewed on her television show. Though I would have loved to get an all encompassing view of Still Standing's progress, it was quite a nice surprise to witness. Some of the record may flirt with being overproduced, but this is the most vocal-centric piece on Still Standing. Armed with only an acoustic guitar and minimal production (Stargate didn't try to remake Irreplaceable again, guys!), Arnold's voice will tear your heart out with its raw emotion and how it seems to flourish when it's allowed to roam free. Like most of the rest of the album, it's all about gaining inner strength and overcoming the traumatic events in your life, which gives it an extra level of depth. It doesn't push any agenda on you; it just lets you feel the inner pain of one of the better vocalists in the genre.

Mirror is a song that increases my respect for Monica. It's a celebratory ode to finally being okay with yourself and realizing what's important in life, but it manages to avoid being cheesy, preachy, or boring. It may where her personal life has been documented since her mid teens or the fact that she's got such a likeable personality, but you feel like this comes from the heart. With a message that's relatable and the feeling she's still just a work in progress, it's a slice of what it means to be Monica Arnold and a rather intriguing slice at that. Here I Am has that same type of smoldering vibe that past Polow da Don productions have utilized well (i.e. Ciara's Promise or Robin Thicke's Sex Therapy), but instead of focusing on sex, it's all about matters of the heart. The unusual background vocals will take some getting used to, but they end up adding a little bit of variety to the track. It's just the type of music that the 28 year old sounds most at home on; it's just hip enough to be able to be accepted by the casual fan while still retaining its sensibilities. There have been countless I-love-my-man-and-here's-why jams, but Arnold's honest vocals and the surprisingly finesse-heavy hook add some fresh perspective.

Though we're only a quarter of the way into 2010, I have to say that this is the most refreshing record I've heard this year. Monica may have never fully embraced the trends of the moment on her last record, but she went toward the "hood chick" persona first established on So Gone that left a sour taste in many longtime fans' mouths. Fortunately, the name of the game on Still Standing is love but told through the eyes of a grown woman who has seen it all. Classy, immaculately sung, and well sequenced, it may be a tad on the compact side (especially considering the multitude of tracks we saw on her show that didn't make the final tracklisting), but it's a record that restores her to her form of years ago. Time will only tell if this is just a record to placate longtime fans while expanding her sound on the next studio album, but until we cross that bridge, just let this feel good record wash all over you.

Daniel Merriweather is More Than Just Mark Ronson's Protege

2010-03-14T11:18:00.000-07:00

Ah, Australia. The land of kangaroos, grand slam tennis, and seemingly endless sunshine is a place that could be considered a dream destination for a lot of people. With its white sanded beaches and carefree attitude, the country just seems like that respite where you can get away from all the busyness, the chaos, and the headaches that are associated with "real life". To put it simply, Australia seems ideal.

Oh, and they also apparently produce good singers, at least if Mark Ronson protégée Daniel Merriweather is any indication. The 28 year old Melbourne native first came onto the map in America in 2006/7 with a collaboration with Ronson generating some minor buzz and play on VH1. Though he had a bit of a career back home, it was Merriweather's first bit of international success. It took a few years for the J Records signee to bring it all together but finally, in the summer of 2009 (and February 2010 in America), Love & War was released to the masses.

Featuring D.C. rapper Wale, Change is probably the most "hip" song on the record, hence its status as first international single. While the song may not be the type of self-reflective case study that some of the other songs are, there's a socially conscious edge to it and enough pessimism to make it a realistic portrayal of someone's feelings. Though the central theme of the song is positive (things won't change unless people band together), the imagery is vivid and Wale's verse fits perfectly against the distant keys and confident bassline. The other duet on the album is the sullen Water and a Flame featuring Grammy winner Adele. It's the type of simple, tormented ballad that focuses squarely on the vocals, which are rather stunning. In a change from most ballads, things get better the more complicated they get, at least in terms of arrangement; the hook is simultaneously haunting and powerful while the interplay between the two is beautifully painful to listen to, embodying the type of unwilling acceptance of the lyrics quite nicely. Red is one of those ballads that's a total tearjerker; focusing more on identity and self-esteem, you feel how personal of a song it is to Merriweather, thanks to his stormy vocals that just erupt on the string-laced hook. The addition of said strings adds a bit more complexity to the song (the verses tend to be more streamlined), while the lyricism is eloquent and gives a fresh jolt of creativity to a seemingly overused topic.

Cigarettes has some interesting bluesy touches that could be an element of Merriweather's sound that could be explored upon future releases. The jangly piano and slow burning production house one of my favorite vocals from the Australian, as it runs the pantheon of emotions. He's regretful, strangely optimistic, and unleashes a guttural cry around 2:30 that caught me off guard. It still has the old soul elements (i.e. the whispery background vocals), but it takes those and builds in another direction. Could You feels like a snapshot from another era, the 60s soul motif crisp and perfectly executed. From the faded background vocals to the innocent lyrics and the direct melody, it sounds like it could have easily been recorded 50 years ago with no problem. Merriweather's voice is modern enough to where it doesn't feel like karaoke, as it's more like a tribute to an era and a new way of presenting such a classic sound.

Not Giving Up just brims with positivity, the type of determination and grit in the lyricism making this a possible candidate for your life soundtrack. It has a lot of build up to the stomping hook, as this anthem of staying together and giving it another chance is a romp in throwback soul with the shuffling percussion and doo-wop harmonies. The instrumental break is surprisingly effective and not superfluous, showing that Ronson generally knows what kind of atmosphere Merriweather can shine in. Giving Everything Away For Free is quiet and pensive, the mostly acoustic verses just a hint at how Merriweather's voice can carry a song. His voice has so much character and texture to it that you don't feel like anything's missing when it's just him and the guitar. The production again makes its presence known on the soft hook, but it's not as obnoxious as on other songs. I would have preferred to hear how this could have sounded being solely acoustic, as the slightly downbeat lyrics concerning unrequited love need a better stage. Another track with heavy Motown leanings, Impossible actually sounds like Stop Me, Merriweather's breakthrough track with Mark Ronson. It's not a straight interpolation of a past hit, but it has that same type of lived in production and instantly hummable melody that makes it feel that way. Though Merriweather excels on just about any type of material set before him, his confidence and rapid delivery are refreshing to see on this love song about overcoming the odds.

Love & War only scratches the surfaces on Merriweather's potential. That is not to take anything away from the successful record; it's well-sequenced, cohesive, and plays to Merriweather's strengths. It's a record that doesn't submerge itself in what's cool at the moment, simply drawing a lot of influence from Motown and Ronson's live aesthetic. In a less active quarter, I could have seen Love & War making more of an impact, but in a way, it's been overshadowed by releases from higher profile acts. Nonetheless, it feels like a great starting point and a potential footnote in what could be a truly remarkable career.

Sarah Buxton Spreads Her 'Wings' and Creates a Solid Debut...4 Years Later...

2010-03-13T21:19:00.000-08:00

It's always frustrating to watch an artist you like reside in record label purgatory. They may not be successful enough to warrant a full promotional push, but they're doing just well enough to still keep their record contracts. The label obviously likes them but there's just something about them that just keeps them from breaking out. Regardless of the good intentions of the label, this generally ends up in a quiet, unceremonious parting of ways and the artist gradually fading.

Not in the case of country cutie Sarah Buxton, though. Oh no, the tenacious Kansas native has fought hard on Lyric Street Records, to mixed results. After a year and a half wait, she finally had a collection of material released, but it was a digital-only EP. She had multiple singles released and one of her songs recorded by one of country's superstars, but nothing seemed to stick. Finally, through some bit of luck, a single finally landed and the debut album came soon after, nearly four years after Buxton's first single.

Frequent collaborator Jedd Hughes is present on three tracks, though generally only on back-up vocals. Radio Love is spunky and done with a wink; Hughes' vocals add shades of Little Big Town to the music, while the lyricism is slyly referential and simultaneously universal. Using music as a metaphor isn't the cleverest premise, but it's approached with a fresh perspective. Wings slows things down and strips away some of the sheen of the previous track, opting instead for heavy acoustic guitars and more of an organic approach. The hook takes a surprising minor chord turn that adds some solid complexity to this otherwise lovey dovey road song. Buxton's voice is gentle and genuine, whimsically wafting through the song with girlish calm. Big Blue Sky again strips away some of the production, as we're left with a bluegrass-tinged ballad with shades of Nickel Creek. It's interesting the way they're sequenced; the most radio friendly and "biggest" track is first and you gradually get layers peeled away. Big Blue Sky is the best of the three Hughes duets, mostly because the focus is on the vocal chemistry between the two (they interact a lot more here than the other two) and the beautifully textured instrumentation. It's raw, romantic, and hopeful, as well as one of the best tracks on the record.

American Daughters is bluesy and lush, the type of vibe that Buxton's soulful twang sounds fantastic on. The lyricism is startlingly autobiographical and telling, as this song takes traditional themes (populism/I'm-just-a-regular-girl and patriotism) and makes this vulnerable, honest, and musically interesting. There's an air about the track that you can tell how personal the meaning is to Buxton, her impassioned vocals soaring on the admittedly powerful hook like nowhere else on the album. Sparse former single Space is a brave track and an even braver choice for a single; the song may peak during the bare introduction, but the gently swaying hook and defiant lyricism keep your attention. When the production manages to stay far enough away, you can't help but be impressed by the grit in Buxton's vocals and the slow burning fire of the track. It's a break-up ballad that doesn't wallow or beg for sympathy; it's emotional without being sappy, feisty without being polarizing. Though I did enjoy Keith Urban's version of Stupid Boy, I have to say that Buxton's version is much better. It may be the connection she has to the theme or the fact that such a female-centric song is coming from a female, but you get the sense that Buxton identifies more with the crushed heroine than Urban did. It's one of those songs that are just painful to listen to but painful in a positive, nostalgic way. The climax of the song is done just right and it's the appropriate level of production for her voice; Buxton has a bit more strength in her than you realize, so she can handle heavier arrangements and not get lost in the mess.

Innocence will resonate with you, regardless of how old you are. If you're of a certain age, it reeks of nostalgia and will remind you of a more carefree time when your worries were limited to being caught sneaking in. In my case, the song came out right around a lot of major life events, so the theme of missing your innocence is something that immediately caught my attention. Summery and starry eyed, the song knows more than it lets on, Buxton's vocals taking on the simultaneous regret and appreciation necessary for songs like this. Outside My Window was the reason than the album was able to be release, as it managed to creep around the top 20 of the country singles chart. It pretty much embodies Sarah Buxton's personality; she may do ballads exceptionally well, but she shines on perky, uber optimistic uptempos with addictive hooks. It's just a breath of fresh air and an oddly comforting approach to the my-world-is-just-like-yours theme that country music tends to use. People may be irked by how cutesy of a song it is, but it's a quality listen. Love Like Heaven suffers from a slightly messy hook and the dial being cranked up to 11 for a little too long; though the verses are calm and pensive, the hook is a swirling amalgamation of big drums and bigger guitars. It's endlessly catchy and one of the songs that gets stuck in my head, but if it had been cleaned up just a hair, it would improve greatly in my eyes. It's still not in the same ballpark as the plastic country music of some of the genres premiere players, but for someone with Buxton's ability to sell a song and inject a heaping helping of personality, the production holds her down and keeps her from fulfilling her potential.

Sarah Buxton's debut album is a mixed bag. The fact that she actually has a debut album to speak of is a surprise in and of itself, but the fact that slightly less than half the record was released on an EP three years ago is a little disappointing. The main thing about Sarah Buxton is how distinctive it is; there are moments of the "Nashville machine" kicking in, but for the most part, with her slightly raspy chirp of a voice, Sarah Buxton is herself. When the songwriting is good, it's simply beautiful, digging deep to uncover some truly raw emotions. It won't blow you away, but Sarah Buxton is a record that is light, girly, and full of that necessary warmth to accompany the springtime weather.

Kristinia DeBarge: Exposed

2010-03-13T14:28:00.000-08:00

As much as it pains me to acknowledge, my dad and I aren't that close. I wish we were; due to how hard he was working and some personality clashes, our relationship peaked right around the time I reached double digits in age. While I share a lot of characteristics with my father and I admire him for everything he's done, we honestly just don't have a whole lot in common, so we tend to keep our distance from one another. I love him to death and would die from him, but spending even a few minutes alone with him is beyond awkward.

Kristinia DeBarge doesn't have that type of baggage with her father. In fact, he's inspired the career she's currently pursuing. The offspring of one of the members of 80s r&b family group DeBarge, Kristinia, a recent signee to Island Records, is continuing in the footsteps of the likes of Sean Lennon, Natalie Cole, and Diggy Simmons (one of these things is not like the other). How does the photogenic teenager compare to her fellow celebrity spawn? Does she do her family proud?

Where DeBarge shines the most are on the aggressive uptempos that are more about presentation than vocal ability. Album opener Somebody is a brisk buzzing romp in pop-disco, a delightfully joyful strut with brightly hued vocals. Though some of the lyrics are a bit of a head scratcher considering her age (she finally knows what it's like to be loved by somebody and she's, what, 19?), the track works as a whole, capturing a lot of DeBarge's personality in 3:27. Independence anthem Powerless is perhaps my favorite track on the record; the metaphor the song is built on could have been horridly executed, but it's surprisingly effective and DeBarge sells every line like its life or death. Her delivery is strong and fearless, proper amounts of attitude seeping through the rapid verses. Uptempo without being a token dance track, it's a more of a taunt than Somebody, showcasing hints of a sinister edge. First single Goodbye incorporates a popular sports arena song for the instantly recognizable hook and seems to have been a rather polarizing song. Initially, I was turned off by the song and found it to be a bit of a gimmick from a celebrity's spawn looking for her brief moment of fame; however, this robotic kiss-off is delicious in how campy and shameless it actually is. Incorporating some brief sexual innuendo to try and titillate (but not enough to incur the wrath of parent's groups), it's a vixen-in-training type of song; this is like Beyonce-on-training-wheels, so to speak.

Originally recorded by defunct boyband Varsity Fanclub, Future Love captures the vibe of the entire record; summery and light, it's a song that you can't help but enjoy and sing along to. Ridiculously catchy and relatably dreamy, Future Love is just easy and effortless, the type of song that feels like something she should be recording. DeBarge is comfortable on this starry eyed crush song, the amiable bassline and subtle back-up vocals working to make the song a pleasant surprise. It's Gotta Be Love is the type of music that I'd like to see DeBarge explore in the future; not quite a ballad, it's a whispery slow jam that shifts her sound from a Baby Britney/Beyonce to a Baby Janet. DeBarge isn't the most powerful of singer, so any track that allows her to work with what she has and still retains the proper amount of structure and catchiness is a definite keeper. If Kristinia can get a touch more life experience, songs like these will have that much more weight to them. Sabotage is deceptively self-aware, the type of sly teen pop that we've seen time and time again. Concerning DeBarge's struggles with identity and kind of disassociating herself from both halves of her personality, it's all about the mammoth hook, a shimmering realization of the role she plays and what happens in her life as a result. Its writing is its strength, DeBarge's ability to sell it making it that much better of a song. She does so well when there's appropriate material for what you know she's already been through and this is no exception.

My main problem with the record is that the ballads tend to be rather limp and since DeBarge isn't a Mariah Carey/Whitney Houston type singer, she can't really save them from dragging down the rest of the records. A song like Died in Your Eyes obviously isn't the worst thing to happen to the music industry or anything, but it's a soggy romance ballad that seems to be from the Stargate school of acoustic-led r&b tracks. The song is just a bit too much; it's too layered, the production oversteps its bounds (a trend for the record), and DeBarge is the equivalent of musical wallpaper. In short, it's not the type of music that best accentuates her talent and simply feels like a we-need-a-ballad-that-sounds-like-this-for-the-album-to-sell addition. Disconnect comes at the decidedly weaker tail end of the record, barely registering a blip during my experience with the record. Not every song needs to have a gigantic hook that's stuck in your head for a month, but this is one of the songs that you'll forget about as soon as it's over. It's not a bad song, though; it just feels a bit undercooked and reeks of being a demo. The hook is endearing but a touch subtle while the faux inspirational lyricism is worth an eye roll. Cried Me a River takes the whole "light and fluffy" aspect of the album to a new level. It may just be a case of needing some more emotional maturity in the music, but by the time this comes on, your tolerance for the insanely perky DeBarge has begun to erode. It's just a big ball of sunshine and candy canes, which is unusual since the lyricism isn't the brightest or happiest on the record. I know that DeBarge is young and targeting Radio Disney with her material, but she needs to embrace her dark side in order to A) get more success than the one hit wonder status she currently enjoys and B) make more interesting music.

Kristinia DeBarge's debut is very much like the label she's signed to, Sodapop. It's fizzy, delicious, and of no nutritional value. While a majority of the songs are extremely listenable teen pop with a flirty personality behind them, they're beyond disposable and forgettable. Very little of this is the type of music that sticks to your ribs and inspires multiple repeats; Exposed isn't the type of record that you'll be obsessed with for a week and rave about to your friends. It's a cute 40 minutes or so of catchy, uber girly pop music that will be forgotten about ten minutes after you finish the record. If you need some guilty pleasure music or want to see how the DeBarge talent translates across generations, expose yourself to Kristinia DeBarge, but don't be surprised if you can't remember her name in the morning.

Gary Allan Gives Me a Reason To Continue Supporting Country Music

2010-03-09T21:22:00.000-08:00

There are some artists who just sound better when they're in pain. Sad but true, pain brings out the creative side in a select group of artists; they may have an occasionally strong uptempo or "happy" record, but when it comes down to the nitty gritty, they're meant to be down in the dumps.

Gary Allan is one of those artists. While he isn't a one dimensional artist and can make quality positive music, he shines on the downtempo, the heart wrenching, and the morose. Most especially on his 2005 opus Tough All Over, Allan's vocals quiver and demonstrate the type of weariness and roughness that his songwriting ability exemplifies. On the just released Get Off on the Pain, that's never been more clear.

Kiss Me When I'm Down is divine in its simplicity; with naked verses and a truly realistically written hook concerning not wanting to let a loved one go, it's kind of the epitome of a Gary Allan song. It sounds a little gruff but keep listening and the layers reveal themselves. He's in predictably fine voice, a true command of the moment in his presence. Gary Allan isn't the type of vocalist to get lost in a track and isn't starting now, let's say. She Gets Me sounds like it could have had a place on Tough All Over, as this bar-ready ballad is direct yet more voluminous (those strings!) than the previous track. Gary Allan's approach to romance is a lot ballsier than the typical contemporary country love song, which is a beautiful thing to listen to. Instead of these neutered professions of love and devotion, Allan's love is real, rugged, and raw, the sheer amount of backstory implied by his knowing vocals and the deceptive lyrics enough to make this almost a three-dimensional love song. You feel the determination in We Fly By Night, a tale of making it through the 50 hour work weeks and the daily stresses with your loved one by your side. It's a little "light" for a Gary Allan song, but it's typically strong; it feels like a continuation of the previous song, as the next level of this relationship has progressed. With striking imagery and deliciously lush steel guitars, the core of the song is all heart.

Upon first listen, No Regrets simply aches, as Allan recounts his relationship with a former wife who took her own life, inspiring the tormented Tough All Over album. Instead of being a little dreary, it's admirably optimistic and appreciative, choosing to bask in the good times as opposed to being down about the situation. It's an interesting way to close the album, possibly reassuring fans that he's doing alright and possibly hinting at a lighter direction for the next album. One of the few uptempo tracks, Get Off on the Pain incorporates rock elements like only Allan could. This impressively self-aware look at his psyche has one of the better guitar solos on the album, a side of Allan's musicality that I'd like to see explored some more. He has the type of masculine gruffness that it takes to sing musically aggressive material and make it believable, but he just hasn't gone all the way there yet. On Pain, there's still an air of wryness to his delivery that enhances the analytical lyricism nicely. Along the Way is all about the journey and how mistakes are not necessarily the end of the world. Centered around self-acceptance and understanding, it's more Get Off on the Pain than No Regrets in terms of sound and tempo. It sounds like it could be a single with its universal theme and singable hook, the type of populist anthem that country radio tends to pounce on. It's slightly less edgy and textured than most of the material on here, so if you don't like streamlined/slick Gary Allan music, it may not be the track for you. But regardless of your preference, the intentions are pure and the execution is clean.

Get Off on the Pain is yet another strong release from the reliable Allan. It's a bit more multidimensional than past releases, at least in terms of tone and sound, but it's still the same tough, venerable ol' veteran with an artistic flair for the poetic. There's nothing on here that truly blows me away, but even on Allan's most mediocre day, he outshines nearly all of his contemporaries. Instead of opting for radio friendly hooks and huge production that drowns him out, Allan goes for straightforward country-rock, the type of ballsy grit that has served him so well for so long. This isn't the flashiest or most immediate record out today, but it's steady and, like most all of his past material, will aid you when the pain gets to be too much.