I was a wee college freshman when the “teen pop” phenomenon took America’s music scene by storm. I remember thinking, “Hey, this stuff is pretty funny. It’s kind of entertaining, it’s catchy, and it definitely won’t last longer than a few months.”
It is now years later.
My ears ache from the constant barrage of synthesized sonic sugar that pours forth from every visible speaker. My heart yearns for a new revolution in sound, for a new band that breaks all the rules, for someone to come out of the woodwork and knock the current state of music upside down.
I am sorry to report that Vitamin C’s “More” is not the answer. However, it bodes well for the future of music. I must be confusing you terribly. Let me explain:
Last year, many of us realized that the TRL culture was not a passing fad; it was here to stay. Many fell into despair. There was little hope to be found. In my darkest hour, I turned to a wise friend of mine and asked him, “When will this horrible trend stop?”
My friend thought for a moment and replied, “The beginning of the end of ‘teen pop’ will be the rise of the third-class pop stars. First-class pop stars are people like Britney, N’Sync, Backstreet: acts with some degree of talent. Second-class pop stars are acts like 98 Degrees and Mandy Moore. These musicians are of dubious talent and are only famous because the first-class pop stars have paved the way for them. Third-class pop stars will be those that are so bad that even the people who enjoy the second-class pop stars will be embarrassed to have these groups in their CD players. That, my friend, will be the beginning of the end for ‘teen pop.’”
Enter 30-year-old Colleen Fitzpatrick, aka Vitamin C. Yes, you read that correctly. This ‘teen pop’ phenomenon is, in fact, 11 years older than Britney Spears. “More” is her second album. This is just about as bad as it gets, my friend. It is hard to know where to begin describing the music contained on this compact disc.
Let’s start with the lyrics. Much has been made of the fact that Vitamin C writes her own words. Good for her. She has come up with some of the most childish, banal junk that has recently graced the radio. For instance, “Busted” contains the glorious nugget “I’ll never take you back/I’d rather die die die/I know you really did it/’cause you lie lie lie/and now we’re not N’Sync/so it’s bye bye bye.”
On “Real Life,” Miss C informs her man to “get a grip, baby, we’re no rehearsal/it’s not a game, we are not playing virtual.” And there’s something vaguely disturbing about hearing a 30-year-old woman coo, “You are my hip-hopper/you are my heart stopper … /you are my eye candy/you are my phat daddy.”
Moving associatively along from lyric analysis, we arrive naturally at Vitamin C’s voice. Many ‘teen pop’ stars are talented singers who are at the mercy of poorly written material. Vitamin C is not one of them. Imagine, if you will, a castrated Justin Timberlake being hung upside down and begin forced to sing with a ball of wax paper in his mouth. This is my best approximation of Vitamin C’s thin, grating, vaguely grandmother-ish voice. It is not pleasant to listen to, and it certainly does little to make up for the horrid lyrics.
Finally, we are left with the music. There is not much to say about it, other than the likelihood that you’ve heard it all before. Mechanical drum machine rhythms, cheesy synthesizer riffs and sappy strings dominate the musical landscape of “More.” Musically, it is your standard ‘teen pop’ factory-made-and-delivered-to-your-door album, lacking a single shred of innovation or inspiration. The less said about it, the better.
As I said earlier, “More” bodes well for the future. It is truly a third-class “teen pop” album. With any luck, many more will follow, and teen pop will topple upon its bloated, evil self.
By the way, if I ever see this album in your CD collection, I will not be your friend.