"Fuckin' Perfect" - Pink

Read the whole post at Vertigo Shtick!

On November 16 Pink is set to release her first hits collection, Greatest Hits... So Far!!! The set will contain sixteen of the pop rocker's best-charting singles from "There You Go" to "Stupid Girls" to "Glitter in the Air," along with (as is the fashion) three entirely new tracks, including current top ten hit "Raise Your Glass" and a new ditty just leaked/released to the blogosphere, "Fuckin' Perfect." The track list promises GH...SF!!! to be a rollicking and bumpy ride through Pink's uneven discography, but a full-length listen-through is sure to prove not just how broad and varying her output has been over the last decade, but how incredibly skilled and convincing she is throughout the myriad styles and genres in which she has dabbled.

With a title like "Fuckin' Perfect" one would be forgiven for expecting another raucus, up-tempo romp before pressing "play," perhaps thematically in line with great kiss-off tracks from the singer's library like "U + UR Hand" or "So What." Pink seems to be riding the recent trend of motivational underdog anthems (see Ke$ha's "We R Who We R," Katy Perry's "Firework," Pink's own "Raise Your Glass") a little harder than some, and her second new track delivers essentially the same message as her previous single, but "Fuckin' Perfect" is musically a cousin of "Who Knew" or "Glitter In the Air," softer, down-tempo ballads whose hefty subject matter outweigh any perceived surface-level softness. Like those tracks, it's nice and all, and for those who love Pink for her similarly styled singles, "Fuckin' Perfect" is sure to fill in any cracks "Raise Your Glass" might have left unfilled with motivational goodness.

So even though the new song's not really my style, I'd have trouble coming out right off the bat and criticizing it (at least before further listening on my end): even the titular expletive, which for almost any other artist would come off as desperately pandering, is fitting in this case. It's eye-catching, irreverent, confrontational, crude, and menacing to some while comforting to others. In other words, it fits Pink to a tee.

Greatest Hits... So Far!!! drops November 16.

"I Put a Spell On You" Bette Midler

Ah, Halloween. To some, the final day of October is a day of costumes and confections, while for others it means a lot of small callers at the front door that won't leave unless bribed with sweets; for still others, it's but a low key night for horror films or other such appropriate entertainment.

For me, All Hallow's Eve is when I invariably look out the window and declare, "Look! Another glorious morning. Makes me SICK!" and proceed to emulate Bette Midler at numerous points throughout the day (in other words, a normal day). The Divine Miss M has bestowed a number of fantastic gems upon the world of fabulosity over the years - "I'm Beautiful," the Rose, Beaches - but none of them brings me (and, I suspect, a good number of my contemporaries in age) nearly the amount of sheer cult classic glee as Hocus Pocus. Yes, in 1993 (!), the fire-haired diva teamed up with Disney, comedian Kathy Najimy, hot off Sister Act, and Sarah Jessica Parker, who in those pre-Sex and the City times was mainly known for turns in L.A. Story, the short-lived sitcom Square Pegs, and a handful of stints on the Great White Way to make a Halloween comedy for kids.

The fabulously silly tale of three youth-obsessed 17th century witches brought back to life by a misfit teenager was directed by Kenny Ortega, now known for directing the High School Musical series and Michael Jackson - This Is It, the film Ortega scrapped together when the singer died of an overdose weeks before his Ortega-directed farewell concert series. But back then, Kenny Ortega had but one credit under his belt, and while Newsies is probably nearly as beloved among many of my fellow Hocus Pocus devotees, it was definitely not so at the time (the Alan Menken movie musical about a newsboy strike that starred a young Christian Bale, featured Razzie-nominated turns from Robert Duvall and Ann-Margret, and was one of the greatest box office debacles of the early 1990s).

Sadly, Ortega, who is adept at least at staging musical numbers for film if nothing else, gets only one brief chance in Hocus Pocus, and it's less a production number than an obvious concession made on Midler's contract (Miss Midler must have a song, and it shall be fabulous or no deal). But Midler's diva-tastic cover of "I Put a Spell On You" is the rare shining beacon of win in an otherwise uneven film: it's a terrific comedic sequence, but it also completely fits into the plot, certainly far more than one might expect from a one-off song-and-dance number in a kid's movie. It's so utterly Bette Midler, right down to the "Hello, Salem! My name's Winifred! What's yours?" and seeing Najimy and Parker effortlessly slide into their impromptu backup singer roles always got a nice guffaw from us clueless children who were entirely unaware of anything about Bette Midler's public image or career.

And on this Halloween, the first since I began this lovely blog, I'm passing on the joy to you all! Pick up a copy of Hocus Pocus tonight, or just take a listen to a couple minutes of nostalgic camp madness. Either way, Happy Halloween!

Ke$ha - "We R Who We R"

Since Cannibal is but a Fame Monster style add-on to the upcoming re-release of Ke$ha's surprise smash debut album Animal, it makes sense that (as with Gaga and Fame Monster) the singer's meticulously scripted plotline - you know, the trashy girl who parties a lot, uses whiskey as oral hygeine tool and doesn't wash her hair - isn't exactly going to be tossed out the window just yet. But, at least on lead single "We R Who We R," neither is it dominant, or even particularly evident at all (although final judgment shall be reserved for the music video), and that suits Ke$ha just fine. She's not working with filet mignon material with the musically and lyrically facile Dr. Luke-produced track, which is likely destined to be the most forgettable of her five singles thus far, although like any Dr. Luke production the mediocrity is impeccably done, and I've learned from experience that the producer has created as many slow-burning hits as he has instant and unforgettable smashes, so I may well end up eating my words down the line.

If anything, "We R Who We R" should serve as a nice placeholder on the Billboard Hot 100 while we impatiently wait to hear what glorious head-exploding madness the Nashville-raised pop ingenue makes with hardcore hip-hop producer Bangladesh in their reported collaboration(s?) on Cannibal. And, anyway, it's a nice track to play behind those "It Gets Better" videos, and goodness knows that's a far more important issue than RCA's last wringing of dollar signs from its surprise breakout star before she takes over her career and unleashes her genius on the world in a manner not seen since a certain Swedish teenage tool of Max Martin who went on to become Robyn, the killingest pop star on the planet.

Far-fetched? The Ke$ha Project is here to find out.

Pink - "Raise Your Glass"

There are few artists currently working in the music industry that I admire more than Pink, as I've mentioned before along with the curious fact that despite my high opinion of her as a musician I don't especially care for a good percentage of the actual songs she's done, even while appreciating and enjoying the way she's done them. And since Pink is one of the few veteran acts whose healthy career has been marked or even defined by continuous adaptation and exploration of musical style, I am particularly looking forward to her first hits collection, Greatest Hits...So Far!!!, which she announced yesterday (the set lands November 16).

Of course, even a compilation album requires a lead single or two to promote the release, and the 31 year old unleashed the first of two new tracks to be included on the hefty track list, the giddily enjoyable girl-party anthem "Raise Your Glass." As may be obviously early on to those familiar with production at all, Pink's producer and co-writer on the track is Swedish pop legend Max Martin, who last year helped get Britney Spears' own hits collection lead single "3" to the top of the Hot 100 in its first week on the chart and who worked with Pink on her latest two albums, I'm Not Dead and Funhouse. Martin and erstwhile protegee/collaborator Dr. Luke (the latter more so) have lately been walking a thin line between success and overexposure, and, perhaps accordingly, churning out a high volume of work that on too many occasions has been too reminiscent of previous work done for other artists too recently to go by unnoticed. It's a shame, really, as Martin truly is one of the greatest producers of all time, and Dr. Luke one of the great hit-making engineers working right now, even if he lacks the musical sensibilities that set Martin apart; in any event, getting recycled tunes from those two is like Julia Child making you peanut butter and jelly.

But what typically makes Pink's collaborations with Martin work so well is, broadly speaking, their actually "collaborative" feel. Pink is an older, more experienced, and with a more fully developed persona as an artist than Martin's usual clients, who tend to be younger girl-pop-rock stars (he's produced for Katy Perry, Avril Lavigne, Kelly Clarkson, and the first three of Britney Spears' albums) whose contributions to the track, while always a good deal beyond the anonymous vocal trend of dance and electronic music in terms of personality, were still only half of the magic (if that), sharing or overshadowed in glory by the greatness of the entire sound. Pink is not the kind of artist who takes a back seat when she's in the studio - she's demonstrated a unique and enjoyable expertise in the incidentals that often spice up her backing vocals with typically playful banter and musical asides, and "Raise Your Glass" is no exception. There's even a riotous moment just before the final chorus in which the singer channels the Mamas and the Papas by launching into the chorus a few bars early. "Ah, fuck," she says, before launching into the high-octane chorus for nearly a full minute of climactic, girl-rock bliss.

Sure, the song sounds a bit like Taio Cruz's "Dynamite" with a splash of "Since U Been Gone," (both written and the latter produced by...you guessed it! Max Martin) but at no point is "Raise Your Glass" not clearly Pink's song. Where younger and less established singers can come off as either one-note party obsessives (Ke$ha) or posers (Avril Lavigne) when singing of boozing and merrymaking, Pink's relationship with the world of recreation has been a consistent theme in her music throughout her genre-jumping career, from Linda Perry's "Get the Party Started" to the rock-infused barfight style "U + Ur Hand" and "So What," to the disarmingly contrite "Sober" and the just as disarmingly hedonistic "Bad Influence," so when Pink sings about a party, you know she knows of what she speaks. (The only insincere moment on "Raise Your Glass," actually, is at the beginning of the bridge, where after a beat or two she muses, "Oh shit, my glass is empty. That SUCKS!" As if Pink would find such a situation the slightest bit concerning.)

 Seriously, is this not the cutest woman ever?

It's the first time Pink's party has been an actual celebration, too, which makes it all the more fun to come along: here there are no pervy drunk men, no exes starting fights, no kissing Benz drivers' asses, no football captains' angry mothers. Pink's not fighting anymore, she's inviting: she reaches out to "all my underdogs" and encourages them to be "dirty little freaks," a technique that's proven pretty effective for Lady Gaga, although they're not singing to entirely the same audience, I believe. Pink, like Robyn, has blossomed from an exciting and volatile 20-something into a strong, reliable 31-year-old who is still a ton of fun - like a big sister, perhaps, who seems to have everything under control and figured out with herself, which allows us to revert to carefree teenagers for a few minutes. We don't have to worry about Pink, be it in with her historically solid personal life, or her live performances (also like Robyn, Pink is a uniquely gifted live performer), or her next album(s) or singles - we know she'll come through. On "Raise Your Glass" Pink's fun-filled vocals and Max Martin's stellar if manipulative production team up like Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid: here are a pair of artists at the top of their field who have worked together to deliver a charming and enjoyable fall anthem, a worthy addition to Pink's already formidable list of great singles.

"Raise Your Glass"

Pink

Greatest Hits...So Far!!!

(LaFace, 2010)

Céline Dion and Peabo Bryson "Beauty and the Beast"

Want to know why the crop of American young adults now between the ages of about 23 and 29 (i.e. those of us born when Reagan was President) are going to rule the world, especially in entertainment? For one, we come from tail-end Baby Boomer/early Gen X parents - the ones after the hippies and racists of the '60s but before the uptight post-Vietnam Gen X-ers of the '80s - who generally struck just the right balance between apathy and helicopter parenting, plus they had fantastic taste in music. We also were the main beneficiaries of the Disney Renaissance, the period between 1989 and 1997-ish when entertainment for children was perhaps the best and most influential it has ever been, led of course by the revitalized Disney animation studios and the string of masterpieces from The Little Mermaid ('89) to (depending who you ask) The Lion King ('95) or Hercules ('97). If you need to ask how that has anything to do with global domination potential, then obviously you weren't there for it (as a kid or a parent) and probably wouldn't get or accept an explanation; if you were, you know what I'm talking about (*high five!*).

The greatest of those films, and in my opinion the greatest of all Disney films, is Beauty and the Beast ('91) which long had the distinction of being the only animated film ever to be nominated for the Academy Award for Best Picture (Pixar's Up made the newly expanded list of ten nominees last year). The second release in Disney's new golden era was exquisitely drawn, elegantly scripted and performed, and features one of the best scores in film history, composed by Alan Menken with songs by Menken and Howard Ashman, the great lyricist who died of AIDS not long before the film premiered. The score and three of the songs were nominated for Oscars, and while glorious opening number "Belle" and showstopper "Be Our Guest" were both fully deserving, no jaws dropped when statues went to the score and the elegant title ballad.

"Beauty and the Beast" was sung by Angela Lansbury in the film, but a re-imagined pop version ran over the credits and was released as a single, starting what would become a lengthy tradition. The adult contemporary cover featured a duet by established R&B star Peabo Bryson and then-little known French Canadian singer Céline Dion. It reached the top ten in the U.S. and many other countries, becoming Dion's international breakthrough and winning a Grammy for the two singers.

Coming from a family of music snobs, I rarely got to hear the duet version before someone got to the VCR eject or the car stereo track skip button, and even as an adult I've had to be rather surreptitious about my occasional re-visitations with the syrupy, overproduced ballad. But since today Disney is bringing Beauty and the Beast out of the so-called "vault," I can't think of a more defensible and appropriate time to indulge my little guilty pleasure. (A new cover by American Idol champ Jordin Sparks has been prepared to support the DVD re-release.)

"Beauty and the Beast"

Céline Dion and Peabo Bryson

Beauty and the Beast

(Walt Disney, 1991)

Wanna Touch Me In My...

Aside from the fact that Animal is actually, despite what tag-along critics would have you believe, a pretty good pop album, and a great debut album, there exists, out in the world, a veritable horde of unreleased Ke$ha tracks. I don't mean like that leaked "demo" of Britney's "Telephone," I mean, for the most part, full-on, mostly- to fully-produced tracks (Ke$ha is not primarily a singer, of course, but is equally into songwriting - she wrote The Veronicas' "This Love," among others - and production, with iconic producer Dr. Luke as a mentor). There are different genres represented, too: some are the electro-pop of Animal, while others are more formulaic pop songs one might write as a label's in-house songwriter; others still have a more rock edge, varying from teeny-bop Hoku-style rock to more along the lines of the Donnas; then, finally, there are the ever-so-thrilling experimental pieces, which I particularly love and am especially excited to discuss and share.

But I actually started writing this in the first place because a friend of mine said she needed a reason to wear red lipstick tonight, and the idea finally took root. So here, without further ado, is your first bit of unreleased Ke$ha goodness, appropriately titled "Red Lipstick." This one is from her rocker-chick side, certainly, but what I love most about it is how fun, amusing, and typically Ke$ha (dear God, that dollar sign is going to be the death of me...more on that later) her asides are. This is an artist who truly has a great time in the studio, and it comes across on the best of her records with a glee that has captivated millions (and millions of those dollar signs, too) and made her an inescapable star who may just have gotten too big too quickly for a musician who is not, I strongly believe, destined to be a flash in the unforgiving pop music pan. More on that later, though. Now, to my friend and to all of you, I'm gonna put on ma-ma-ma-ma-ma-ma-my "Red Lipstick!" Enjoy. (Just try it.)

Guess the Change In My Pocket Wasn't Enough

Recently I came across a tweet from a friend of mine, emerging young R&B/soul singer Elle B. Elle has spent much of the last several months gallivanting across the globe backing up Katy Perry on the pop goldmine's promotional tour for the new album Teenage Dream (which as you might have heard dropped a week ago; look for Vertigo Shtick's review later this week). Nation-specific music releasing/availability being what it is, it's a bit of a challenge for our dear Elle to keep up with new releases when the California Gurls are abroad, hence her tweeting search for a killer new track that debuted on YouTube ten days ago and, according to releasing label, has since been featured on over 4500 music blogs. Since I'll do anything for a good friend or a good artist (especially if she's both) and because it's one of the most joyous, deliriously enjoyable new soul tracks in recent history and therefore grade-A evidence disproving the supposed decease of the genre.

You've heard of Cee Lo Green - or at least you've heard him, even if you don't know it. Green is best known as half of the critically worshipped duo Gnarls Barkley (with Danger Mouse), although he had a pair of modest hits in 2002-03 and even sang background vocals on TLC's 1995 megahit "Waterfalls." (He also co-wrote the Pussycat Dolls' debut single "Don't Cha," but bear with me.) Now Green, in advance of his upcoming solo album The LadyKiller, has unleashed upon the world a single with a title almost as surprising as how the song more than lives up to the hype such a title invariably (and shrewdly) creates. "Fuck You" is a kiss-off to a gold-digging ex-girlfriend and the fool whose arm on which she now hangs. Not exactly groundbreaking lyrical subject matter, perhaps, but the packaging is a disarming and rare delight: instead of angry guitars and caterwauling, "Fuck You" is a raucus, up-tempo and upbeat 60s-throwback number that could easily be performed by a church gospel choir without anyone raising an eyebrow, so pleasant and joyful is the presentation.

"Guess he's an X-Box and I'm more an Atari," Green sings (not dating himself at all or anything), but after one spin of this I'm guessing you'll be ready to go back and play some Pong.

Make Love In a Train, Cross Country

Well look at that, folks: it's Hump Day once again, and the associated mood is once again upon me. Today looks to be an especially steep hump for me today at the workplace, too, so it appears necessary not only to choose a great Song for the Hump Day, but to pull out the big guns as well today. Fortunately, a certain special pop legend celebrated her 52nd birthday earlier this week, and the icon in question happens to be one of the great sexual pioneers/"pop perverts" of pop music history. Yes, our lady Madonna is over the half-century mark and still sailing on, boinking 20-somethings with similarly religious names, attempting to adopt much of the non Jolie-Pitt sub-Saharan youth, and bathing daily in hundred dollar bills and caviar.
Those of us who fall firmly within the bounds of the Millenial generation no longer have the same appreciation of Madonna that our very near elders do; children of the late '90s like myself typically see her Madgesty through the post-William Orbit/Ray of Light lens, and are more likely to recall her Hard Candy album cover crotch shot than blonde ambition or conical brassieres. Luckily, somewhere along the way one of my dear friends had enough sense to browbeat me into purchasing The Immaculate Collection and actually listening the whole way through (despite my well documented dislike of most '80s pop), which is how I happened upon a pair of songs that maybe didn't change my life but definitely supplied legitimacy (and more than a few helpful pointers). Eventually I sought out the video for one of them, "Erotica," and found it to be quite what I was expecting, if I was expecting anything in particular. As edgy as it was in 1990 upon its release, the video for "Erotica" isn't quite yet totally tame by 2010 standards, but neither is it anything I hadn't seen before or felt I shouldn't be seeing. Graphic treatment of sexual themes was, after all, my forte.

It was when I encountered the video for the second number of the dirty duo that, for the first and probably only time in my life, I fully appreciated the true power and impact of Madonna's sexuality, in a visceral way I imagine was standard at the start of the 1990s: something from the pop music past that was all but impossible to relive. It wasn't because "Justify My Love" was graphic, though, just as the song itself isn't: in fact, it was quite the opposite quality that affected me so strongly, the subtlety and requirement of imagination finally proving what my dad had told me at the outset of my pubescent years: "Seeing everything is rarely half as exciting as when something is left to the imagination." To this day, the song is one of the few songs that has the capability of turning me on at least a few degrees when it plays, regardless of situation or mood or anything else.

So for this particularly hefty Hump Day, get open and ready, and enjoy Madonna's sexiest track ever, "Justify My Love."

With the Down Guillotine

When Swedish pop icon Robyn revealed her unique plans regarding a long-awaited followup to her smash 2005 self-titled album - namely, plans to release no fewer than three albums by the end of 2010 - even the most loyal Robyn fans (myself included) met the news with a mixture of giddy excitement and, frankly, varying degrees of incredulity. Body Talk Pt. 1 dropped in June following by as much as three months the individual releases of no fewer than four of the eight tracks on the album, and though appetites were whetted, timing still caused even major Robyn proponents like Pitchfork to refer to the three-album project with tentative vocabulary. Then came the word, as the diminutive Swede was rounding up a successful U.S. mini-tour with newly dance-oriented American singer Kelis, that Body Talk Pt. 2 was ready for a September 6 UK release (a US release date of September 7 followed, albeit not quite swiftly enough to calm some nervous hearts stateside), and a track listing coinciding with the release of the second album's lead single "Hang With Me" (accompanied by a charming if not exactly wave-making video) confirmed that the penultimate offering of the proposed trilogy would contain the much buzzed-about collaboration with rapper Snoop Dogg, best known recently as the other culprit behind Katy Perry's inescapable summer number one "California Gurls."

Fortunately for this impatient Robyn fan, a certain resourceful significant other of mine has managed to acquire a rather advanced copy of the second of what now looks like it may actually be three albums Robyn drops in 2010. And it's GOOD. (More on that later, but trust me.) And for you, my loyal readers, I hereby offer you a first listen to the fabled collaboration with the D. O. double-G, a raucous, boastful display of entirely deserved superiority sprinkled with plenty of expletives, obligatory and fabulously cringe-inducing rhymes, and carried along by a high-tempo, speaker-bursting bass line. This is not the first time the two pop music giants have shared the same track, although Robyn's participation in the Fyre Department remix to Snoop Dogg's 2008 single "Sexual Eruption" was subsequent to the original track's release and not a "collaboration" in the same sense.

The plot of the new track, you ask? Well, it's essentially four minutes of Robyn and "Big Snoopy Dogg" alternating verses (with the occasional chorus thrown in) delineating all of the supposed tough guys of the world who "know better than to fuck with" them. Among them: the French, the Russians, the LAPD, the CIA, the FBI, the Vatican ("I sat down with the Romans," Robyn says, "And said we need a black pope, but she better be a woman"), the music industry, and the Devil himself.

Sounds pretty badass, but what else would you expect when two of the most consistently enjoyable artists working today team up to throw it down? Check out the new track and let me know what you think!

Forget About Your Monday Morning

I've been ragging on Christina Aguilera a lot lately, I realize, which is a shame because I happen to hold her in particularly high regard as an artist (which is a major reason I've been coming down hard on her recently). Back to Basics is one of the three or four albums of the last decade I have most admired both aesthetically and artistically, and - critics be damned - Stripped is perhaps the single most iconic and influential album of my past ten years, nearly as much as No Doubt's Tragic Kingdom and Alanis Morissette's Jagged Little Pill defined my adolescence. Plus, I've discovered that ever since the cathartic release of my critical frustration with it last week, I've become able to actually enjoy Bionic exponentially more to the point that many of the tracks have found their way onto my weekly-changing pop attention deficit disorder on-the-go playlists.

So I thought I'd through Xtina a little bone today and spend a paragraph or so discussing something she's done recently that I thoroughly like. Hence, I present to you the bonus track "Monday Morning," which is among my two or three favorite cuts on Bionic (and, to be fair, at one point was my uncontested top pick). And hey, it couldn't be more timely. The breezy, hakuna matata bonus track fits thematically with its parent album but it could hardly sound more different, at least in terms of tempo and tone (the Hill & Switch production, centering on a boomeranging electronic descant, is an obvious little sister to the producing team's great "Elastic Love"). Actually, the first time I listened to Bionic start to finish I wasn't sure where album ended and bonus began (or I lost count somewhere in the eighteen-track bombardment) and heard "Monday Morning" as the album's closing track - and I have to say, considering the overwhelming and largely negative effect the album had upon me at first run, I found a bit of solace in "Monday Morning," finding it an enjoyable, grounding stress reliever that allowed me an easier comedown (in hindsight, the actual closer, "Vanity," is exponentially more appropriate). Now that I've gotten wise, I enjoy this little bonus gem in a way few tracks can be: as a pleasant, stand-alone morsel of music by an artist of whom I am fond, free from the burden or bond of any particular album or specific time.

Eeny, Weeny, Teeny Weenie

Even if the early '90s were something of a dark age for pop music, I have to give the era props: from Madonna's fantastic double whammy of "Justify My Love" and "Erotica" on through the first half of the decade, there was some raunchy stuff being put out there by some of the more sexually liberated women in the music industry. What better way to celebrate this Hump Day than striking a blow for censorship-free media with something from the R-rated archives of '90s pop music? Since I'm also feeling a little catty at present, for the first in what will become a regular midweek morsel here on Vertigo Shtick here's a snarky little ditty from 1994, 20 Fingers' thumping first single "Short Dick Man" as today's Song for the Day.

"Short Dick Man"

20 Fingers

20 Fingers

(ZYX, 1994)

Trivia: "Short Dick Man" was written and produced by 20 Fingers, aka Charlie Babie and Manfred Mohr, with vocals by Gillette, who also included the track on her solo album On The Attack. The track was a big European hit and held the French number one spot for several weeks, although in the UK it was released in a censored version titled "Short Short Man."

I know, right?

There's No One Here to Save

For such an outwardly positive and classically beautiful young woman, poor Sara Bareilles seems to have some bum luck when it comes to men. The antiheroes of Bareilles' best-known songs aren't physically abusive or compulsive cheaters; they're more just, well, losers: needy, passive-aggressive, bossy, childish, selfish, clingy, and so forth. They're a particularly bourgeois kind of soon-to-be-ex-boyfriend, dwelling most commonly in the hallways of college dorms, the coffee shops of upper middle class New York or Los Angeles neighborhoods, and television sitcom neighborhoods. So while they may not be all that dangerous or frightening, they're pesky and annoying and mostly harmless - in other words, excellent fodder for a light pop single by a young white solo female performer.

In her breakout single "Love Song," which earned a Grammy nomination last year for Best Song and topped the Billboard Pop Songs chart, the UCLA grad (and alumna of acapella group "Awaken," for which she composed and with whom she originally recorded her much darker single "Gravity") delivered a deliciously clever rebuff to what it seems would be just the first loser to cross Bareilles' path: "I'm not gonna write you a love song 'cause you asked for it, 'cause you need one," she sang, and the whole thing would have been brutal were it not for the breezy, bright melody and Bareilles' upbeat delivery (this tone versus topic disparity, a highly effective technique, is also heavily prevalent in Robyn's work over the past five or six years), even if she looked stiff and moderately uncomfortable in the Shining Time Station-esque music video, as many first timers do. It was a great debut single for an artist like Bareilles that placed her solidly atop the crop of new moderate-appeal softcore female singer-songwriters that has emerged in the past couple years, such as Ingrid Michaelson and Regina Spektor.

In "King Of Anything," the lead single for Bareilles' sophomore effort Kaleidoscope Heart (out September 7), the piano-playing chanteuse doesn't exactly break any new ground - but of course no one really asked her to nor would her core audience much care for too wild a stray from the comfortable path. As one might expect in a second go-around, the production is tighter and more inventive (alternating hand claps, repeated "uh-ohs" from right to left speaker and back, all perfectly mixed from the minimal opening to the fully layered final chorus). As for the subject matter, this time Sara's knight in rusty armor isn't so much needy as maddeningly self-important, the kind who spends much of the time finding (and pointing out) all the so-called "faults" of his partner so as to entirely ignore and not acknowledge his own.

Sure, ending a chorus with a harsh "who DIED" (a harshness that comes more from its rythmic placement than anything) is perhaps not the smoothest of lyrical choices, but the melody is impeccable, easily improving on "Love Song" and rivaling the coolly calculated creations of Katy Perry in catchiness and wonder. And since anyone can relate to the universal subject matter (not as deep a concept as that behind the cleverer "Love Song"), "King Of Anything" is an immensely likeable, enjoyable package that should launch Bareilles' second album to a comfortable start. If, this time around, she manages to pull out a second single from the bunch, she may become one of the few artists who not only avoids but thoroughly lambastes the traditional sophomore slump, which should in turn allow her to continue singing and writing for a good while longer - maybe even long enough to take her music somewhere off the comfortable, marketable path.

"King of Anything"

Sara Bareilles

Kaleidoscope Heart

(Epic, 2010)

"Are You That Somebody?" - Aaliyah

The music industry has had more than its share of notable figures who have met unfortunate and premature ends, airplane crashes having a particularly eerie prevalence among their causes. Certainly one of the biggest losses came in 2001 when R&B singer Aaliyah died at 22 in a plane crash following a music video shoot in the Bahamas. The loss of such a uniquely promising artist was a devastating one, but as she had been signed to Jive Records at the green age of twelve, Aaliyah contributed a good eight or nine years' worth of music from her 1994 debut, appropriately titled Age Ain't Nothing But a Number, through her groundbreaking, self-titled 2001 studio album, and then some. Gifted with solid musical chops, Aaliyah also was the biggest early successes of the brilliant hip hop producers Missy Elliott and Timbaland, who worked as a producing team in the late '90s and were behind most of Aaliyah's second album One in a Million, the success of which made stars of all three.

While she would later get the bite of the acting bug, Aaliyah made her first marks in the film industry with her contributions in 1998 to the soundtracks of the animated film Anastasia and the Eddie Murphy comedy Dr. Doolittle. The latter, in fact, was the unlikely origin of one of Aaliyah's most popular and important singles, "Are You That Somebody." To say the single was groundbreaking would be a gross understatement, not so much on the part of the singer but that of its producer, Timbaland, who with that track both shattered pop conventions and laid the groundwork for one of the most successful producing careers in modern pop history. To today's ear the production does not come off too far outside the box, but this is only because minimalist production has been adopted and adapted widely by Timbaland and high profile followers like the Neptunes in the years since in hip hop, R&B, and mainstream pop music alike. As the New Yorker put it, "the beat refuses to fully engage, using more dead space than you would have thought possible in a hit," and in 1998, when the Max Martin style of dense, saturated production had began running the show (or at least doing it the loudest), this was even more of a departure. And that's not to mention the mouth clicks, finger snaps, and the baby giggle. A baby giggle. I would kill to have been in the label exec's office when they first got a load of this one.


And yet, the track, released as an airplay-only single at a time when Billboard had not yet allowed airplay-only singles to chart on the Billboard Hot 100 (although that policy was changed midway through "Are You That Somebody?"'s chart run), was a huge hit, reaching number four on the main airplay chart and number one on Hot R&B/Hip-Hop Airplay. The record is included on "Best Of" lists by the likes of Blender (#387 on The 500 Greatest Songs Since You Were Born), Spin magazine, and even the Village Voice, and is easily my personal favorite of Aaliyah's strong if sadly too brief discography.

"Are You That Somebody?"

Aaliyah

Dr. Doolittle: The Album

(Atlantic Records, 1998)

\"Are You That Somebody?\" Aaliyah

Estelle Can Be a Freak

The following is a selection from a full double track review posted earlier today on Vertigo Shtick. To see the whole review, click here!

Estelle may thus far be a one-hit wonder on our shores, but the 30 year old London native has recently unveiled two tracks from her upcoming third studio album, All Of Me, and they make an intriguing pair. The first, released in February, is "Freak," a grinding, sexy uptempo thumper that, at first, could scarcely sound further removed from the breezy "American Boy." Estelle uses the opening seconds of the track to offer what comes off as part dare, part entreaty (overture as overture?), stating "I can be a freak, every day of every week," not quite convincingly but with enough promise to rope in the skeptic listener, if just to see just how "freaky" this squeaky clean darling thinks she is. What proceeds is truly a fascinating three and a half minutes wherein Estelle at worst amuses as she offers a kink-lite manifesto via a delivery smacking with PG-rated joie de vivre and at best succeeds in the plainly stated endeavor she lays out at the outset:

This is something that I've learned.

Listen, I'm about to teach:

Every single girl 

Should embrace their inner freaky-freak.

Still, the track makes refreshingly good use of rapper and spelling bee champ Kardinal Offishall (best known to pop audiences as either the force behind the Akon-esque number two hit "Dangerous" and/or the rapper who apologized to Viagra on the bafflingly awful radio edit of Lady Gaga's debut smash "Just Dance"), whose bouncing, humorous featured rap provides enough "freaky" for those demanding of full truth in advertising without dragging the track down, musically or content-wise. But for the most part, "Freak" is a lesson of "Kinky Sex for Soccer Moms" over a pounding, immensely enjoyable dance beat, and that Estelle never fully convinces anyone (even herself, I imagine...as if that were the point) she has gone dirrty the way of Christina "Not Myself Tonight" Aguilera is the charming victory of this thoroughly replayable single.

\"Freak\" Estelle ft. Kardinal Offishall

See the rest of this review!

Kelly Rowland ft. David Guetta - "Commander"

Kelly Rowland. Butt of Glee jokes, second fiddle to a more famous cousin, victim to some really awful production teams in the past during her rocky solo career. But the other child of Destiny seems to have found her comfortable niche as muse of the great French producer/DJ David Guetta: she contributed vocals to "When Love Takes Over" on Guetta's recent album One Love, and has now delivered her first solid dance solo single with "Commander." While I found the former a bit shouty and, as the American Idol judges like to say, "pitchy," with "Commander" Rowland stays more within her low range and the results are far less grating. I also approve of any video that brings back military dance a la Madonna's "Vogue."

What do you think about "Commander?" Is Kelly Rowland a welcome addition to dance music and would you have guessed that would turn out to be her calling?

There have been several periods in the past thirty or so that modern pop music as we know it today has been around that saw an apex of talent, popularity, quality, freshness, and momentum. Among these high points in pop music history began around late 1996 and early 1997, ending a five or six year spell of stagnation - in the wake of controversy surrounding Madonna's sexually exploratory, envelope-pushing musical and literary output at the turn of the 1990s - something of a pop music dark ages.

Then suddenly from out of the swamps of repetitive minor ballads from a young Mariah Carey and an increasingly erratic Whitney Houston, a new generation of pop music emerged, bringing with it an infectious and sorely needed energy that revived and revitalized pop music in ways not seen since the early- to mid-80s ascent of the likes of Madonna and Cyndi Lauper. Best of all, the renaissance seemingly offered something for everyone: Alanis Morissette, Jewel and Savage Garden conquered the moody adolescents and their parents' dollars by the barrel, while No Doubt and the Mighty Mighty Bosstones ska'd their way onto the scene and kept many a trumpeter employed; meanwhile, British import girl group the Spice Girls charged in from across the pond to tick the dance-pop metronome up a few notches, laying the path soon followed by the Backstreet Boys, together being the first acts of what would become the hugely lucrative subgenre of bubblegum/teen pop. Heck, even Mariah Carey lightened up a bit, scoring a top single on the Hot 100 with "Honey" in the fall of 1997.

Amid this surge of new or reinvigorated talent, a charming midtempo track by a new, unknown teenaged Swedish singer known mononymously as Robyn made its steady ascent up the U.S. singles chart to its eventual peak comfortably within the top ten. "Do You Know (What It Takes)" was the kind of perfectly recurring but not over-saturated hit that hardly exists anymore in these days where a handful of tracks get played to death by a monopolistic Top 40 radio empire (*cough*  ClearChannel *cough*): when it came on the radio, as it did quite often, it was unsurprising but always welcome, time since its last rotation seemed much longer than it really had been. Unless we'd sought out the video (rather minor even by '90s standards) most listeners had no visual image of this imported (but not imported-sounding) teenage chanteuse; only the sweetness, smoothness and skill of her voice and the eager naivete of the subject of which she sang. Or in my case, the happenstance of sharing a name (and spelling) with a dearly beloved godsister.

For whatever reason, Robyn made a good first impression nearly fourteen years ago, so much so that when late in 2009 a horrified friend and fellow pop music apologist alerted me to the fact that this Swedish gem had in fact continued working after seemingly disappearing as suddenly as she'd arrived, I was particularly pleased. And that was before I discovered that Robyn hadn't just been working: she'd become an artist comfortably living on the edge of genius; or, as she has proclaimed (to no argument I know of), "the killingest pop star on the planet."

Robyn's sixth studio album, Body Talk, Pt 1, drops June 15 - which happens to be the 26th birthday of your friendly blogger. It is to be the first of three albums due out within the next year, following up at long last the 2005/2007 self-titled album AllMusic called "the pop tour de force that Robyn  has always had in her," and combined with the European and U.S. tour scheduled this summer and fall with R&B champion Kelis, it even has potential to awaken an unsuspecting and unprepared American musical consciousness to this thrillingly superb pop icon for the first time in thirteen long years. But never fear: Vertigo Shtick is here to help as well as to honor. That is why for the next two weeks before Body Talk, Pt 1 arrives to blow your minds, Vertigo Shtick will be your Guide to Robyn, providing the newcomer and the long time fan alike with a thorough course in the star and her work, and strive to answer the unimaginable question of why you should care. 

So stay tuned; there's plenty of Robyn on its way to go around. I'll open this two-week smorgasbord with the hit that won me over to the Robyn side thirteen years ago and still adore as much as I did when I first heard it. Plus, of course, one can only hope that someone like Robyn will "always be around."

"Do You Know (What It Takes)"

Robyn 

Robyn is Here

(BMG, 1996)

\"Do You Know (What It Takes)\" - Robyn

Destiny's Child Gets an A Capella Makeover

All right folks, it's June, the best month of the year! I have one heck of a month in the works for you, too, so make sure your bookmark is set properly and keep stopping by regularly to catch all the excitement as it unfolds. But rather than pounce in without looking and charge on through gracelessly, I thought I'd start off with a song for the day that provides a fun change of pace while remaining entirely relevant.

As loath as I am to admit it, I found myself this Saturday sitting in an auditorium on the campus of that other school across town, also known as ucla (Bruins are either too good for or unable to recognize capital letters), where my brother was singing in his final concert with the co-ed acapella choir The Scattertones. For those who don't know, acapella choirs are popular, typically student-run groups of singers primarily at colleges and universities nationwide who perform reimagined, ingeniously arranged, and completely instrument-free renditions of songs either popular in themselves or originally performed by popular artists. The annual division championships of the International Championship of Collegiate A Cappella (ICCAs) routinely sell out theaters and concert halls in a way probably rivaled only by Yo-Yo Ma or a former President, and these musical institutions of the college experience almost always manage at least to bring excitement and joy to all within earshot.

Opening for the Scattertones was another group of song-happy Bruins, the all-female Random Voices. Since my aforementioned brother just happens to be going steady with one of the outgoing members of this girl group, I had already had the pleasure of hearing the recent studio cut of Random Voices' second and final song of the brief opening set, which they had performed for the university's big "Spring Sing" competition earlier this term.

 UCLA Random Voices 2009-10

Any fan of the pioneering R&B girl group Destiny's Child would get an easy kick out of a well-arranged and well-performed acapella medley of several of the group's early hits, including "Say My Name," "Bills, Bills, Bills," "Jumpin' Jumpin'," and "Survivor" (whut?). But even the neutral onlooker would have a hard time not bouncing to the effervescent beat of the solid arrangement, from its love affair with the alto line, team efforts from all parts on backup and accompaniment duty (most impressive on "Survivor"), and some seamless and clever segues between songs (I especially admire the sliding chords that guide "Bills, Bills, Bills" into "Jumpin' Jumpin'")?

 NOT the UCLA Random Voices

In a group with, at my estimate, but one black member (the soloist on "Say My Name," natch), you have to admire the tenacity of these mostly white and Asian gals as they convincingly tap into their ghetto sides for this enjoyable acapella romp (bolstered in its studio recording by some healthy but not obviously false bass line assistance). Whut?

"Keep On Survivin' (Destiny's Child Medley)"

UCLA Random Voices

UCLA Spring Sing 2010

\"Keep On Survivin\'\" - UCLA Random Voices