FEATURED REVIEW.........................................................7 MARCH 2005
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Artist:
JOSH ROUSE |
Someone needs to stand up and call bullsh*t. The encomium that has greeted Josh Rouse's latest release is unfounded. Alas, universal critical praise is often nothing more than a sign that a great many middle-minded music critics have found the same album accessible. And accessible this album is, in an "adult contemporary" sort of way. I fear a few of these songs will haunt my dental visits for years to come.
The album opens with "It's the Nighttime," an uninspired Ryan Adams knock-off which features the insipid chorus "It's the nighttime baby / Don't let go of my love." (What, pray tell, is his "love"?)
Track 2, "Winter in the Hamptons" begins with an irritating "Bah-da-da-bah-bah" (or some "sha-la-la" variant, in any case--it's hard to tell exactly which nonsense syllables Mr. Rouse has chosen to blither). Again, this song is just the other side of Ryan Adams on a bad day (and that is saying something: we've heard some bad days from Ryan Adams in the past few years).
By the time the strings kick in on "Streetlights," it is more than clear that Josh Rouse's conception of Nashville involves the smooth sounds of Glen Campbell. Many good things have come out of Nashville; countrypolitan is not one of them.
On the 4th track ("Carolina"), Rouse is back to being Ryan Adams' cheezier, less talented little brother.
Get the picture? Schmaltz, schmaltz and more schmaltz. As the album progresses, the cheezy pop references come fast and furious: 60's jangle pop, a Gin Blossoms-like chorus, a shout out to the Jackson 5--all covered over in a thick, syrupy countrypolitan glaze. The only thing impressive about all this cheeze is its variety. We've got more swelling strings, a few more "woo-hoo-hoos," bad back-up singing, insipid lyrics, sensitive singer/songwriter psychobabble--you name it, it's in there. At the very end of "Saturday," someone can be heard to swear "Oh, f*ck." Our sentiments exactly.
In summation: A ten-track aerosol can of EZ Cheeze. This isn't our Nashville. Give the kid four cheezeballs and a ticket home.
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A NOTE ON THE RATING SYSTEM:
5 CHEEZEBALLS = UNLISTENABLE SCHLOCK
3 CHEEZEBALLS = A DIFFICULT SLOG
1 CHEEZEBALL = THE ODD FORGIVABLE MISSTEP
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