Christina Aguilera
BACK TO BASICS (3 stars)
You've got to give Christina Aguilera credit for ambition. Her new double album is a self-indulgent mess, anything but the simplicity implied by its title. Yet in its willful idiosyncrasy, it's in many ways the exact opposite of the calculated and endlessly market-tested album we expect from our huge pop stars these days. There's no doubt that Aguilera's doing exactly what she wants to do, trends and advisors be damned.
Sometimes this means that Basics is exhilaratingly inventive—the songs that integrate Aguilera's pop and hip-hop background with her newfound interest in big-band styles sound exciting and fresh. The more dance-oriented first disc, dominated by producer DJ Premier, offers tracks like the scorching lead single "Ain't No Other Man," which easily rivals Beyoncé's "Crazy in Love" for exuberant brassiness, and the popping "Still Dirrty," which finds Aguilera assuring her fans that she hasn't forgotten about sex, even if she's dressing more like a flapper than a stripper these days.
She might be protesting a little too much, though. Even when she's cooing nasty come-ons on Disc 2's "Candyman" and "Nasty Naughty Boy," she's doing it over wholesome, organic horns, pianos and even the occasional live drum beat. Those cheeky moments when the modern and the classic collide are golden, but too often Aguilera gives in to hubris, especially on the album's narcissistic nadir, "Thank You (Dedication to Fans ...)," with gushing voice-mail messages from fans played over a rudimentary beat.
Like most double albums, Back to Basics would be better at half the length, all the more so given how brightly its highlights shine in comparison to its lowlights. But its warts-and-all presentation is part of its charm, proof that pop stars are often far more fascinating when given the chance to follow their offbeat muses.
Say Hi To Your Mom
IMPECCABLE BLAHS (3 stars)
Dear Eric Elbogen, frontman of Say Hi To Your Mom,
What year is this? Haven't you gotten the memo (and when I say "memo," I mean the Technorati and Icerocket results)? Buffy is, like, so over. Just check the blogs. It's all about Veronica Mars now. But I know; you can't help yourself, so you decide to put out an album all about vampires anyway. Who knows? Maybe Buffy the Musical will go to Broadway and you'll get a part. Spike's pretty cool, huh?
Anyway, your new album's pretty good, all these sweet synth-pop songs that sound like grand love songs even if they're actually about drinking blood, making out with Satan and having crushes on a gal whom you know is ready to drive a stake through your heart. (I bet John Vanderslice can appreciate your mix of twisted tales and perfect melodies.)
I especially like "Blah Blah Blah" and "Sweet Sweet Heartkiller." And although some of your songs seem to blah into one, I adore how you sound so understated throughout, how it's all deadpan, even when you're singing classic lines like, "She is as stunning as a phaser set on 'stun.'" Swoon on, brother. Can't wait for your album about a teenage detective in sunny Cali three years from now. Maybe you'll call it Orbiting Neptune. Just a thought.
ALI FARKA TOURÉ
SAVANE (3.5 stars)
Ali Farka Touré knew cancer was marching through his bones when he recorded the tracks that would become Savane, the posthumous album that trails his March death by some five months. Yet the esteemed Afro-bluesman resisted any temptation to infuse his farewell work with an air of bitterness or, conversely, to turn the project into some schmaltzy celebration of life.
Rather, Touré's final entry combines the best qualities of his distinguished 30-year recording career: the exquisite haunting of the title track, the palpable elation-in-any-language of "Beto," the rhythmic wonderment of "Hanana" and a pervading organic quality that unifies 13 varied cuts.
Touré's emotive voice, which earned him a thousand comparisons to John Lee Hooker, actually reminds you more of Mark Knopfler, were the British guitarist seeped in Malian dialect. The album begins to run out of steam by the end of its hour-long running time, but overwhelmingly, the late legend succeeds where John Coltrane, Jim Morrison and countless others could not, signing off with a crowning musical achievement.