mixtape maestro (2.0)

Though she was able to snatch up the 2007 “American Idol” crown, winning over Mom’s and pre-teens with her mega-pipes and “good girl” demeanor, Jordin Sparks’ career post-confetti & tears didn’t seem like it was going to produce anything worthwhile. And that notion was kinda sorta proved with her debut album’s jump-off single “Tattoo”, a somewhat awkward mish-mashing of country and urban-pop that skirted the Hot 100 Top 10, but was ultimately forgettable.

Then arrives “No Air”, a surprisingly fetching duet with (a pre-career-in-crisis) Chris Brown that managed to catch ears beyond her central Disney bubblegum fanbase (as well as a Grammy nomination), despite the fact that it’s “can’t breathe without you” premise felt extremely absurd and dated and the two singers sounded like their throats were gonna explode at the way they shout-sung their teenybop devotion for a majority of it’s over four minutes length.

Apparently, Sparks has decided that this ear-bursting diva pop style could be a continually rewarding niche, as she’s dipped into that well over again, employing the writing/ production skills of fellow melodramatic bellower (and OneRepublic principal) Ryan Tedder for her second album’s lead single and title track, “Battlefield”, which takes “Air”‘s OTT midtempo ballad formula, then raises it a few OTT notches.

Once again she’s all “my world’s nothing when you’re gone”, mourning a relationship’s inability to ever get on the good foot, and this frustration is illustrated with the deafening, widescreen scope of a summer action blockbuster: cries of “Why does love always feel like a battlefield?” and the brilliantly WTF “You better go and get your armor” supported with a bombastic barrage of power rock drums and guitars, all elements that get more and more overblown as the song goes on.

Like “Air”, it’s a winning guilty pleasure that’ll definitely inspire numerous worldwide mimickings of it’s ridiculously huger-than-huge hooks (especially that “armor” line) over the next few months. Our only question is if the rest of the album follows this high-volume extreme (as we predict it will), will Sparks even have a voice once it comes to time to hit the touring rounds?

The album, Battlefield, drops mid-July.

For a spell, Kelly Clarkson could do no wrong, holding a reign over the “Top 40 pop can actually be good” heap with her universally applauded “Since U Been Gone” and the rest of it’s Breakaway single mates. Then came the arrival of My December, an otherwise solid female-fronted pop/ rock achievement that sadly crumbled underneath an exhausting wave of Clarkson vs. Clive Davis media coverage and it’s much-ballyhooed lack of “Gone”-like smash material. That one album stirred up so much drama, it’s a bit surprising that Clarkson didn’t just jump out of the game altogether out of sheer frustration.

Alas, she’s returned, and by the sounds of new single “My Life Would Suck Without You”, it seems that Clive Davis has won out in getting the original “American Idol” to back away from the dark-leaning, “artistic” aim of the last LP and win back the radio-tuned masses with some brisk, shiny pop noise.

On initial listen, you can’t help but imagine an agitated Clarkson, stifling back tears in the vocal booth as a pistol-caressing Clive watches on from the other side of the glass, foot-tapping along to “Suck”‘s relentless dance-pop pulse, his face plastered with a devilish smirk that says “You won’t leave this studio until I’m sure you’ve got a multi-platinum chart-topper for me“.

But by the rush-of-a-chorus’ first arrival, internal plots to seek vengeance on Kelly’s behalf begin to subside as her familiar throat-stretching wails and “Suck”‘s labored-over production slowly seep their way into your frame, turning you into a fist-pumping slave at the hands of it’s predictable pop charms.

“My Life Would Suck Without You” may be a bit soul-less (and no where near as good as it’s title might suggest), but it’s a catchy one for sure, fulfilling it’s mission in bypassing December to be the obvious bridge from Breakaway to the new Clarkson era. Hopefully, it’s sure success will satisfy Clive enough to let him allow some of Kelly’s more “shaded” material to earn some placement on the upcoming album.

If Kelly Clarkson never released another album and disappeared from the entertainment industry all together, she would be justified. There’s been so much drama lingering around My December, her highly anticipated third album, My December, since she entered the studio last year that it’s enough to drive any human being into a nervous breakdown (a real one Mariah!). From the heavy pressure to try to top the un-toppable “Since U Been Gone” to behind-the-scene tussles with a scared record company unsure of Kelly’s darker direction to all the various reactions surrounding December’s bitter lead single, “Never Again”, and it’s “disappointing” chart success. If Clarkson is planning an early retirement, she should think twice, cause My December definitely looks to be one of the strongest female pop/ rock albums ever, even if it doesn’t pull in the deserving overwhelming sales and radio scans it’s predecessor Breakaway achieved.

“Hole” perfectly captures Clarkson at her wit’s end, unable to cope with all the attention being thrown her away. Jerky guitar riffs bounce back and forth around her, illustrating the crippling chaos her surroundings have become. “Tired of everything around me/ I smile but I don’t feel a thing”, the opening lines sting, Clarkson unable to keep her inner feelings a secret any longer. All the hoopla is nipping at her soul, leaving her hollow and in desperate need for some relief (“I’ve given up on faith/ On everything/ All I wanted/ All I needed/ Was some peace/…It’s all wrong/ I’m so sick of this”). As the rock unleashes in full blast on the soaring hook, Kelly releases her pent-up emotions. When it’s all over, you’re left silent, mouth widely agape at her raw display of fiery rage.

On “Can I Have A Kiss”, all she wants is to share one final liplock with a lover before they part ways forever. The song references mopey grunge listlessness amid breathless vocals, a rainy day ambiance that projects the inescapable sadness of the situation. “I see that you’re torn/ I’ve got some scars of my own,” she mutters, the pain of realizing that they might not be meant for eachother too overbearing to consider for the time being. They just need to live in this one moment, forget about the future and enjoy the bliss of a make-out session that defines the most satisfying perk of their union (“I just want to know what it feels like to touch…something I’m so sure of”).

All the BCBG’s gloss she’s enveloped herself in hasn’t been able to take away from her massive pipes, a winning trait that works magic when put up against production that’s matching in volume. But with the arresting “Chivas”, a bonus cut that marks her purest performance to date, Clarkson goes for a stripped down setting that reminds us why we voted on her to win that televised talent show all those years ago. Sounding like an off-the-cuff jam in the baby stages of creation, the acoustic ballad affords her the hushed space for her soulful, Southern belle inflections to emerge into the forefront.

Her chops feeling a bit well-worn (hearkening back to a booze-soaked Janis Joplin), Clarkson embeds herself in the role of waking up one morning and realizing being with her boyfriend is not what she wants. This is “Since U Been Gone”‘s celebration of independence done with a nastier tone. She rips into his faults (“You’re too high maintenance babe/ All the time you spent trying to fit in/ And no one even cares”) and then smacks herself for taking so long to snap out of it and realize how low she had been setting her standards (“It wasn’t even good”). The song’s title alludes to her trading in one partner for one proven to be much more reliable and satisfying, a bottle of Scotch (“I love you Chivas”, she quietly sneaks in before a drunken giggle signals the end of the track). Powerful in it’s intimacy and honest lyricism, it’s a Kelly we have never seen before and one we hope to meet more often.

With these lovely numbers as evidence, Clarkson has finally erased the “A Moment Like This” junk that made her an American (Idol) sweetheart and firmly grounds herself into the realist rock goddess she was born to be. No, there’s no sure hooks here to grant her #1 pop hits, but the artistry that is given is undeniably moving and much more inviting to sink your teeth into; that holds more weight than any high placing on a Billboard chart can attain. Kelly, sweetie, ignore those know-nothing execs and quick-to-judge critics cause My December looks to definitely be something you can be proud of.

Blake Lewis still has no business winning this thing over Melinda or Jordin, but with this week’s jaw-dropping performance, it doesn’t matter, cause the FOX ratings monster seems to have just bred it’s first true artist/ superstar-in-the-making.

What a roller coaster ride of emotions Lewis sent us through this season. Tired of the self-serious songstresses and ambiguously gay male contestants this show usually lays on us, Blake Lewis arrived like a breath of fresh air, having the nerve to believe that his beat boxing and Usher/ Timberlake side swivels was going to truly pull him through in this singing competition. The fact that he even made it to Hollywood, and then through to the Top 24, showed signs that the judges were looking for something new to stir things up this year.

That was until we realized how beat boxing wasn’t really all that interesting after the first time. So what, Lewis proved to have a very fine voice when he damn near stole Keane’s “Somewhere Only We Know” all for himself. Then things took a turn for the worst. Alongside Chris Sligh, Blake quickly realized that trying too hard to be an artist wasn’t the way to go on this big budget karaoke show, after he took it upon himself to remix Motown on the too-experimental “You Keep Me Hangin’ On” and was nearly crucified for following orders and trying to make the song “his own” (Interesting enough, Mark Ronson would fare better by doing much the same damn thing overseas around the same time).

Embarrassed by that falter, he grew more weary, showing an endearing, but annoying, taste for 311 nu-reggae and then delivering a series of middling straight performances (what more can you do with “Imagine” anyway?) that had us wanting him to weave some of that ol’ B-boy/ laptop beatmaking magic for us once more.

To our surprise during Bon Jovi week, Lewis came alive with a show-stopping revision of “You Give Love A Bad Name” that made us all giddy fans again. For a second there it looked like Blake was gonna fall flat on his face. Jon Bon Jovi seemed so irritated by Lewis’ cover, his perfectly handled hair threatened to collapse, and the arena was so quiet in anticipation for whatever was to come, we initially wanted to find some corner and hide in the fetal position for him.

But Lewis braved through it and won us over, from the opening record scratching sound effects to the chopped up chorus and fun exchange with the ecstatic drummer in a risky segment of non-singing. After realizing his work had worked in his favor, Blake’s nerves dropped and he ended the song in a conceited burst of energy fed by the audience’s pants-pissing excitement. At his usual soul-draining, Simon Cowell may not have fully approved (saying it was good enough to give him at least another week), but everybody else came to the instant conclusion that a star might’ve just been born right before our eyes.

Remember Eliott Yamin? Probably not. Think back a bit in the “American Idol” universe. Back before boobs-over-vocals Antonella Barba became headline fodder, back when Paula Abdul’s loopiness had grown kinda disturbing. Placing third place in the 2006 season of “AI”, Yamin was the elfish, snagatoothed singer whose sturdy soulful performances sort of made up for his lacking star presence. With a firm understanding of Frank Sinatra/ Michel Buble standards and Stevie Wonder/ Donny Hathaway soul numbers, Yamin was probably the season’s strongest singer, but despite praise from Stevie himself, it seemed he was going to be added to the long list of true “AI” talents we would probably never hear from again.

Looks like we might’ve been wrong. Signed to the indie label, Hickory Records, Yamin has a self titled debut ready to go and has already premiered on the US pop chart with his impressive first single, “Movin’ On”.

Sticking to the ’70′s soul template his rich growl suits, Yamin attacks the song’s subtle organ-based comfort with the power of a confident veteran. Singing circles around the wimpy, pre-pubescent croonings of the male pop and R&B singers currently topping the charts, Yamin easily accomplishes the underlying emotions a song about unreciprocated love requests. Fed up with his girl not giving him what he’s giving out (“When I look into your eyes/ I see right through you”), Elliott decides it’s best he cut his losses and re-enter the dating world. A scandalous line later in the song that hints he’ll be “moving on” to her best friend chops at his likability factor a bit, but it’s a tiny misstep that doesn’t detract from the thought that this well-produced track is much better than the lifeless material most “AI” contestants are forced into their first go-round.

The only slight concern is that an indie label (read: weak marketing, lack of music video support) and the song’s throwback vibe could prevent him from realizing his potential, but fingers should be crossed that this is one deserving talent that can hopefully beat the odds.

Watch his amazing “AI” rendition of “A Song For You” below.