While I do not listen to it on the regular, I understand the place pop music has in society. People don’t want sad music that reminds them that they are single, unemployed, or ghastly over/underweight. Here comes Katy Perry, taking her place alongside the power-players of female pop-stars, providing jams that speak to the booty, not the heart. Teenage Dream is complete with vocal effects, drum loops and excessive production techniques. Oh, and was that a fucking sax solo I heard?
While I will say Perry’s follow-up to her debut album sounds akin to Cher and Madonna, I will ensure that it is known that I mean mid-90’s Madonna and Cher. Like “Believe” or “Ray Of Light,” the shit that sounds like a dance remix before any DJs have laid hands on it. Only Katy Perry has abandoned her upper register of her fairly talented voice and taken to sounding like a manatee.
The Fergie-esque raunchiness of “Peacock” is booty shaking, but “ET” kind of creeps me out, as I am pretty sure she’s moaning “infect me with your love, fill me with your poison, ready for abduction, take me, want to be a victim, ready for abduction.” I don’t know about you, but it sounds like a rape fantasy if I’ve ever heard one. This chick’s got some problems.
-Jonathan “The Emperor” Yost