Christina Aguilera - Bionic

RCA Records

Christina Aguilera has been a polemic figure since her breakthrough hit "Genie in a Bottle". She has a sexual aesthetic similar to a young Madonna’s, fashion sense like Cher’s, and raw vocal power comparable to a younger Whitney Houston’s. Her albums contain raunchy sexed-up tracks that appeal to sexually blossoming young adults and stately ballads that appeal to their post-menopausal mothers. Power pop, pop rock, R&B, hip-hop, dance, and even a little alt-rock have been found in some form on her albums. It’s a curse and a blessing for Christina that she can sound like anyone and sing almost anything. She’s always been difficult to categorize. Her ability to be so many things has caused critics to chastise her for not having her own unique presence.

The campaign for the collaboration-heavy Bionic began in the blogosphere with the declaration “Aguilera goes indie.” Ladytron, Le Tigre, Goldfrapp, M.I.A., Santigold, John Hill, and Sia all stepped up to the plate when an apprehensive Aguilera (convinced by her husband) reached out to them. The end result is an album that finds Christina caught between two worlds. Before, she seemed to be making the choice between being a serious singer or a pop star. Now, Christina Aguilera must chose between either being an “indie” darling or being the radio star. In the end, she is seemingly much more interesting doing “indie” impersonations than she is making radio ready pop.

The mainstream songs dominate the eighteen-track standard edition of the album and are, unfortunately, the weakest offerings from the Bionic sessions. Tricky Stewart never really replicates his production magic on his hits like “Umbrella” or “Single Ladies.” The Spanglish “Desnudate” sounds as if J.Lo, Pitbull, and Gloria Estefan went on an all night coke binge and decided to log some studio time in the process. The clunky Spanish translations, which seem to have been lifted directly from an online search engine, cause the track to sink even further. "Glam," touted as a modern "Vogue," is a cute but innocuous gay-friendly track that brings to mind Paris is Burning and Sex and the City. “Prima Donna” is slinky, urban, club fodder salvaged only by a confident hood delivery from Xtina, whose singing eerily sounds more and more like Michael Jackson by the bridge of the track.

Polow Da don’s tracks don’t fare much better. “Woo Hoo” (feat. Nicki Minaj), an ode to Christina’s lady parts, is fun, but the production is too sparse and predictable. “I Hate Boys” is a bratty, juvenile kiss-off that is the biggest stylistic misstep for Christina. It’s whooshing, grating production and taunting melody make it seem as if she’s trying to bite at the heels of Katy Perry and Ke$ha. But, this is a Christina Aguilera album, and with a deluxe version boasting twenty-four tracks in total there is still much more here to be examined.

A feel good collaboration with Le Tigre, “My Girls” is delightfully similar in its levity and playfulness. It combines Le Tigre’s penchant for female assertiveness and Christina’s stiletto wearing, ruby-lipped brand of third wave feminism. The product is a funky, lo-fi, disco-y, '90s, Girl Power pop with a Peaches feature and an adorable riot grrrrl shout-out to her collaborators.

With many of these collaborations Aguilera has been criticized for lacking a true identity and “ripping off” these artists, which I think is somewhat unfair. Can you call it “ripping off” if there is a consensual collaboration involved? In my opinion Xtina has been unable to maintain a clear musical identity out of sheer boredom and dynamic virtuosity. Yes, her voice is the only distinguishing feature that ties her albums together, but in her defense, why do one thing when you can do everything?

One burning question remains. How does one listen to such an album with such extreme stylistic differences from song to song? I’d say treat it like a mix-tape. With this number of tracks, various styles, and collaborators it’s safe to say that Christina Aguilera has made an album for the digital age. There are multiple ten-fifteen track albums that can be created from this lot for everyone to enjoy.

Review by Javi

This is an excerpt from a much longer, more detailed review that can be found at Electroqueer.

LCD Soundsystem - This Is Happening

DFA

This can go one of two ways. You can put this album on the loudspeakers of your choice and busy yourself with life until the best beats drop and you are unable to stop yourself from dancing around wildly, close to whatever said speakers you chose. Or, you can do as I do: ready the tunes, put on the headphones, and sit down. You’re going to need to fully absorb the genius before you try to dance to this record.

How does one come to produce some of the greatest ironic dance music of the decade? As co-founding producer of DFA Records, James Murphy certainly learned from some of the best. For me, his legacy is a blend of Le Tigre remixes, that forty-five minute album he made for Nike, and LCD Soundsystem songs about distance, love, and sorrow.

The Sound of Silver singles—namely, “All My Friends” and “Someone Great”—defined my grad school years in Boston, a time of healing from heartbreak, strangely disappointing friendships, and a renewed sense of self and personal goals. What will This Is Happening mean to my life? What will it mean to yours?

Though “Pow Pow” was released on Record Store Day, I have been told that “Drunk Girls” is the album’s first official single. There’s likely one driving factor behind that decision: it’s the album’s shortest song, clocking in at 3:44. Every other tune pushes the six, seven, eight, or nine-minute mark. I also hear early album critics don’t like the track. No matter; I don’t believe in that baby/bathwater dichotomy.

Most acts wouldn’t open a nine-track album with a nine-minute song, but most groups are not this type of brilliant. It takes more than three minutes for “Dance Yrself Clean” to move from a few handclaps, cow bell, and deadpan chants to a full-fledged synth-infused dance-punk anthem, but then, that is the point.

Similarly, the build-up in a song like “You Wanted A Hit” is—at least for me—one of the main reasons to listen to a band like LCD Soundsystem. Three minutes into the track, you’re still waiting for the chorus to kick in, for the heavier beats to drop. “You wanted a hit/But we don’t do hits,” Murphy chants. Only he’s wrong; they do hits in every single song.

Should I be comforted or absolutely fucking terrified that Murphy, a man twelve years my senior, sings about the very things that plague me? How can an album so closely mirror my entire existence? Consider some of the lyrics of “Home:”

This is the trick
Forget a terrible year
This is what you waited for

If you’re afraid of what you need
Look around you, you’re surrounded
It won’t get any better

What can I say about This Is Happening that Murphy does not himself include in the lyrics? “I can change/If it helps you fall in love.”

I could bemoan the Internet rumors that this is the band’s last album. Instead, I will cherish what I have, now. With references to moving to the back of the bus and the desire to wake up next to the girl you took home last night, this album is the perfect blend of indispensable '00s hipster aesthetic and thoughtful analysis of our cultural zeitgeist.

Review by Brittany Shoot

Salvador Santana - Keyboard City

Quannum Projects

Welcome to Keyboard City, a place where the sun is shining, the people are friendly, and everything is going to work out just fine. It’s a place created by Salvador Santana (son of ten-time Grammy winner Carlos), a young man determined to make his own mark on music. After a lilting introduction, Keyboard City jumps straight into the party atmosphere of “We Got Somethin’,” a bouncy number that sets the tone for the rest of the album. There are a few thoughtful moments, such as the dream-like title track, but, for the most part, the focus is on fun.

After a glance at the album’s liner notes, one question immediately springs to mind: What instrument can’t this guy play? Santana is credited on every track with various combinations of vocals, drums, bass, keyboards, organ, and even something called a clavinet. While there’s no denying Santana’s abilities as an instrumentalist, his lyrical efforts are less reliable. A track like “Under the Sun” has everything a hit single needs, but it’s sometimes difficult to sing along with the lackluster lyrics: “I see so many faces up on the Internet, some like to keep in touch, and some I never met.”

“Salaboutmoney” strays into similar territory. It aims for biting political commentary, but ends up here: “Corrupt politicians drunk off the power. Face it, you’re all over the Internet browser.” What’s telling is that the album’s gorgeous packaging—a jungle-themed pop-up complete with poster and intricate artwork—doesn’t provide us with any of the words. It’s when Santana puts his vocals in the background that Keyboard City really shines. “Video Game, Save My Life” makes you want to invite all your friends for a round of cocktails to nod along to the infectious percussion.

So, what do women do in Keyboard City? Well, they back Santana up by playing some of the instruments and providing additional vocals. The album’s only love song, “Keep Smiling,” puts a gentle, positive spin on a relationship between a woman and man separated by distance. But ultimately, this isn’t an album about anything as complicated as gender; it’s about keeping it real, and enjoying the moment.

“With the last record I was very passive and insecure, only because I wasn’t listening to my gut, allowing my second opinions to get to me,” Santana explains on his website. Even if he’s not completely on top of the lyrical side of the equation, he has clearly found buckets of confidence and plenty of sunshine in Keyboard City.

Review by Alice Allan