Only one of the girls who'd sung on Meet the Pipettes
is still onboard, but that's not the major change: they've ditched the girl group sound.
No longer do The Pipettes want to be The Shangri-La's, instead they're intent on vibing like they're Rose Royce at a car-wash disco circa 1978. Only svengali Spector-cum-McLaren wannabe Monster Bobby is still masterminding the pretty marionettes behind a veil of sunglass shades.
The change in sound creates a major problem ... who the hell needs this? Aren't there already a jillion Spice Girl wannabes riding the post-disco, post-Madonna slutwave that's dominated modern Top 40 since 1985? Here, one step forward into modernism equates to a step forward into genericism.
Luckily, if you sadly resign yourself to what you're getting (and for anyone who was a fan of the first album, oh brother that's going to be a difficult transition to make), what you get amounts to an excellent modern-day pop album. After all, the melodies are still intact, and you can still sing along to all these tunes, and even get a few lodged in your head. You can dance to it. What more should you expect from commercial pop product? Some innovation? A little emotional heft? Oh shut up, my inner nagging naysayer grumpus.
The lyrics are nothing special, and considering that the lyrical content constituted half the hooks on the debut, the lack of edgy missives from the gender wars is a serious hobble. Aside from some generic bitchy-isms like Our love is history
, and You've been running around all over town
(yes, the lyrics are that cliched), there's no edge to their bite.
by Reviewer: Creative Noise
(blogging at Creative Noise
)13th March 2018