Posts Tagged ‘Jesse McCartney’

Hot 100 Roundup—10/3/10

Thursday, October 7th, 2010

Glee Cast
“Empire State of Mind”, #21
“Telephone”, #23
“Billionaire”, #28
“Listen”, #38
“What I Did For Love”, #51

Akon—”Angel”
#62

Yet another “I Gotta Feeling” rip, only this time not from someone directly associated with the original record, which is a relief. Akon’s voice may have changed, but his gift for hooks remains, and here he strings enough together to make for a bearable dance record. My only question is whether this is intended as a tribute to Lady GaGa, who has guaranteed Akon a comfortable living even if he never has another hit. Maybe he should just go into promotion and forget this whole making records business. He wouldn’t be the first.

Update: Whoops, there I go forgetting to check the credits again. This was produced by David Guetta, so just ignore that first sentence.

Maroon 5—”Stutter”
#84

Catchier than their previous records off the new album, but in its own way just as stiff and claustrophobia inducing. Their clockwork groove is like a wall they build between the music and whatever emotion is supposedly generating it. Which means they’re either trying too hard or are too tasteful to get really funky. Working with a producer other than the tireless careerist Robert John Lange might help.

Jesse McCartney—”Shake”
#90

A few years ago, Jesse McCartney was the equivalent of Justin Bieber, only with a little more funk and without the hordes of screaming girls. Now he seems to be in limbo. His voice has matured, but his material still has a teenage quality to it (doesn’t everybody’s?) that doesn’t quite match with his voice. I like the telephone gimmick leading into the chorus, and this is catchy and almost funky enough to get by, but the song’s slightly Bieberish quality throws me off. He’s like a solo version of Maroon 5: his heart is in the right place, but his music is too stiff to catch up.

Diddy – Dirty Money featuring Drake—”Loving You No More”
#91

This goes down smooth and easy in the background, but like most muzak, once you get up close you notice how barren it is. And that’s even before Drake clears his throat and starts to rap.

Mike Posner—”Please Don’t Go”
#94

Pleasant but forgettable, which is a step up from his last record, which was brainless (often mistaken for pleasant) and irritating. I like the random electronics on the last verse, but the rest of it is sap. With guys like Posner and Owl City on the scene, the hipness quotient of electronic music is going to nosedive fast, if it hasn’t already.

Bubbling Under:

Zac Brown Band featuring Jimmy Buffett—”Knee Deep”
#101

When Zac Brown sings by himself, he sounds like James Taylor. When he sings with Alan Jackson, he sounds like Alan Jackson. Guess who he sounds like now? And no, despite the presence of the original inspiration, this is not as good as “Toes”.

Bon Jovi—”What Do You Got?”
#102

Ann Powers swears that Bon Jovi is a great arena band, and though I’ve never thought of that as a distinct genre, I’m willing to take her word on it. All the same, should I ever find myself in an arena with Bon Jovi, this song is when I would seize the opportunity to find a bathroom.

Maroon 5 with Lady Antebellum—”Out of Goodbyes”
#103

Apparently anyone who comes in contact with Lady Antebellum turns immediately into another version of Fleetwood Mac, and though the voices don’t blend as magically as Buckingham’s and McVie’s, this has its moments (the line about the “storm brewing in his eyes” is perfectly set). But moments is all it has, and though the playing is as precise as you’d expect, Fleetwood Mac was both precise and passionate, and that makes all the difference.

David Guetta featuring Kid Cudi—”Memories”
#104

Never, ever listen to a song called “Memories”. It’s guaranteed to be sentimental, even when it comes on with garish, hard-edged dance beats and features a vocalist who sounds like he’s coked himself hoarse. In fact, that might be even worse.

Bruno Mars featuring Damian Marley—”Liquor Store Blues”
#105

This doesn’t work, largely because Mars’s overdeveloped pop instinct undercuts whatever sense of “the blues” he may possess, but I’m fascinated by his attempts to show a serious side, or at least some sort of social conscious (this, “Billionaire”, maybe even “Fuck You”). It’s not the sort of thing you find in most masters of lighthearted melodic hooks, and it suggest that if he can ever manage to balance the two, he could become a major artist, instead of just a highly successful one.

New this week

Monday, September 14th, 2009

Breaking Benjamin—”I Will Not Bow”
#40

Music for fans of 300, of which there are many, I suppose. I just wish I knew what it was they think they’re fighting. Death itself is the most likely answer, hence the defeatism. But it’s a generic defeatism, as untouched by reality and as sentimental as any lovey dovey acoustic strumalong. They should just send out black edged Hallmark cards and get it over with.

Trey Songz featuring Gucci Mane & Soulja Boy Tell ‘Em—”LOL :-)
#51

The music is charming—which, with a production team named Fisha & Price, is only what you’d expect—but Trey Songz never has anything interesting to say, Gucci Mane adds nothing, and Soulja Boy sounds like he just got up and is stumbling around the kitchen making a cup of coffee while shouting out whatever comes into his head that seems to rhyme (including a plug for his most recent hit). The music might prevent this from become dated too quickly, if it isn’t already, but don’t bet on it.

Michael Buble—”Haven’t Met You Yet”
#65

Unlike a lot of critics, I didn’t think Sara Bareilles “Love Song” was a bad record, but this blatant rip-off makes it sound like a masterpiece. You’d think a star like Buble would make his theft less obvious, but subtlety doesn’t seem to be his strong suit. You also wouldn’t think that a heartthrob like Buble would have a voice as thin as tissue paper, but you’d be wrong about that, too. In it’s way, the dumbest record of the year, and that’s saying something.

Jesse McCartney featuring T-Pain—”Body Language”
#84

Not much of a song, but it does provide an interesting view into the shifting commercial allegiances of hip-hop. The original featured loud “Hey!”s in the mode of T.I., but McCartney must have decided that imitating a guy doing time for Federal weapons charges might not be a good idea in light of the age of most of his audience, so he brings in the more benign, cartoonish T-Pain, whose “Hey”s are softer and, needless to say, prettily autotuned. At the same time, T-Pain seems to embrace McCartney as the heir to the recently convicted Chris Brown, referring to their newly formed partnership as Nappy Boy and Pretty Boy, the same phrase he used to describe himself and Brown on “Kiss Kiss”. Meanwhile, musically, McCartney continues to try to cross the gap between Brown and Justin Timberlake without noticing the big sign that says “You Can’t Get There From Here”. This is starting to become as complicated as a telenovella.

Luke Bryan—”Do I”
#85

What, you mean whine and cry and bore us to tears for four endless minutes? Yes, you do.

Gucci Mane featuring Plies—”Wasted”
#95

Gucci Mane has done so many guest spots in the last couple of months—making up for time lost to incarceration—that you’d be excused for thinking he must be as big a name as T-Pain or Lil Wayne. But I tend to think that most of those guest spots were offered as a welcome home and as a form of charity. He’s contributed nothing of value to any of the records he’s appeared on, and here he teams up with The Worst Rapper On The Planet™ and demonstrates how little we actually missed while he was in the joint.

Sean Kingston—”Face Drop”
#98

The closest thing to a personal touch on this faceless follow-up to the even more faceless “Fire Burning” is a reference to being overweight—which Kingston sings as impersonally as everything else. A couple of years ago I thought he might have some real talent, but obviously I was wrong.

Whitney Houston—”Million Dollar Bill”
#100

A weird one. With all the youthful brassiness missing from Houston’s voice and her upper register apparently gone for good, even her uptempo celebrations are subdued. The opening verse sounds like a Sade record sped up, and though the rest settles into a respectable early ’80s soul groove, it never quite takes off. But it gets better every time I listen to it, and at times Houston conjures a dignity and grace reminiscent of her cousin Dionne Warwick. At this point in her career, I can’t think of a better model.