Even though she-e-e-eeeeeeeeeeeee———-eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee is very good, I thi-e-e-eeei-iiiiii-eeeee-iiiii-eeeee—nnnnk it isn’t the right time to be just discovering Christina Aquilera. And I course I’m not just discovering her, I was aware-e-air-e-aire-e-aire-aire-aire-aire-airrrrr of her and her oversing-e-in-e-ing-e-ing-eing at the tie-e-ime-e-ime-e-ime-e-ime-e-ime-e-ime. But I can’t say I’ve ever heard a full album by her. Until now-e-ow-e-ow-eow-eow-e-ow-eow-eow-e-ow-e-ow. Stripped is sorta ironically titled too – as it’s carrying far too much. The songs have a weight to them, arrangement-wise. They’re intense and dense and too long and there’s too many of them and it’s a throw-everything at the dartboard thing with multiple writers and producers and arrangers and then there’s a sprinkling-e-ing-e-ing-eing—-e-ing-e——eee—eee-ING of oversinging to boot.
But I say (e-ay) all that. And there’s something pretty amazing about this record. And I guess I never thought I’d say (e-ay) that.
Chops galore. Major skill. Talent. Sure. But it’s almost unlistenable to me – ultimately. And her negative force of influence – the type of singing she has promoted – is a black mark against her. I’m sorry Christina. But it’s a no-e-oooo-e-ooo–eooo-e-oooo from me. Sorry to bring you down. Today-e-ay-e-ay-e-ay-e-ay-e-ay-e-ay….