In what I hope won’t become an annual tradition, the first week of Billboard’s new year (the last full week of December in the rest of the world) is filled with finalists from The Voice, including, I assume, the winner (don’t tell me, I don’t want to know). Since I’m continuing my boycott of anything to do with vocal competitions or Glee (entering its final season this year, not that anyone cares anymore), I will limit my comments to saying that this year’s crop is slightly better than last year’s, but the souvenir downloads released this season remain void of value (unless you’re looking for an emetic, in which case Craig Wayne Boyd’s version of “I Walk the Line” from a few weeks back may do the trick). Here’s hoping the rest of 2015 remains Voice and Glee-free until at least next December. It’s too much, I suppose, to hope it remains Adam Levine-free as well.
P.S. I’ve turned comments back on, in case any of you were trying. As long as I can keep up with the spam I’ll try and keep them open from now on.
Matt McAndrew
“Wasted Love”, #14
“Lost Stars” (with Adam Levine), #83
Craig Wayne Boyd—“My Baby’s Got A Smile On Her Face”
#34
Nicki Minaj
“Feeling Myself” (featuring Beyonce), #43
“Get On Your Knees” (featuring Ariana Grande), #88
How confident is Nicki Minaj? Confident enough to bring in the biggest R&B star of the last decade to do little more than chant a title, fill up a bar or three, and then disappear for the last minute and a half of the track. Also confident enough to step aside herself for the same amount of time on another track and let a burgeoning star who hasn’t found her own style yet play dominatrix for a while (I’d like to think Minaj wrote the best line: “I don’t need no pretty poet, ooh, getting all emotional”, but it may well have been co-writer Katy Perry). Minaj herself, meanwhile, raps as well as ever, mostly about cunnilingus. It may be a matter of perspective, but I think she does it a lot better than Lil Wayne ever did: “Give me brain like NYU” she demands on one track; “Make me way smarter like you was a magician” on another. Despite all the brain she’s getting I still don’t think she’s a genius, but that doesn’t mean, besides being more talented and working harder, that she isn’t sharper than everybody else.
Chris Jamison
“Velvet”, #53
“Lost Without U” (with Adam Levine), #63
Jessie J—“Masterpiece”
#65
For Jesse J this is relatively tame: no shouting, no screaming, no stomping on your toes. But guess what? There’s a reason she does all that on her other records, because without it she makes no impression at all. Which is another way of saying that the real problem with her music isn’t gimmickry or its exploitive tone, it’s the fact that at its center it’s empty. She doesn’t have any ideas, she just has a career, and she’s determined to keep it going no matter what it takes.
Damien—“Soldier”
#74
J. Cole—“Apparently”
#90
One half a tribute to his mother, the other half a tribute to his dick, both clever and shallow, neither one worth much of your time. What Cole needs, most of all, is a new producer; the guy he’s working with now (one J.L. Cole, according to Billboard) isn’t doing him any favors.
Chris Young—“Lonely Eyes”
#95
For two verses this perfectly illuminates a certain kind of male longing: not desperate or pushy; lustful, yet respectful, tinged with melancholy and loneliness. Then the middle eight comes in as desperation takes hold and it turns into just another country rocker (I can almost hear the producer talking to the session people: “I want that Tom Petty vibe, only more plodding and louder—lots louder”). Since there isn’t a third verse there’s nothing to help get that initial feeling back. Another good country song ruined by lack of imagination.