David Renshaw’s review of “Animal” by Ke$ha

Kesha

Artist: Ke$ha

Album: Animal

Reviewer: David Renshaw

Publication: Drowned in Sound, 2010

Writing Disorders: Scorn Disease

Longest Sentence: 56 words

Most Emo Phrase: “Such was the industry’s need to react”

 

 

 

David, you’re one of the biggest negative nancies I’ve encountered in music criticism yet, and it’s chock full of them. Sadly, a fair number of artists have already suffered for falling outside the bounds of your picky sonic fetishes. Ke$ha is but the latest:

 

“In terms of context Ke$ha isn’t a GaGa or a Britney, she’s not even a P!nk or a Katy Perry. She’s Miley Cyrus drunk cousin, Joss Stone with a hangover, she’s Ashlee Simpson’s friend rubbing herself suggestively on Pete Wentz.”

 

In terms of context? What context is that, David? The only context I see is you trying to hit a home-run insult that labels the friends and relatives of unrelated musicians as boozehounds and harlots. That’d be like me saying that in terms of context, David Renshaw is Brent Dicrescenzo’s brain-damaged bottom or Robert Christgau’s alcoholic, dyslexic nephew. But even if I’m just making fun of parasites who type tracts against people who sing or play instruments, I still feel a level of shame that you could sorely use.

 

Pouting aside, let’s look at your insight:

 

“evolution even began to show in the latter parts of last year with pop starlets adorning themselves in increasingly outlandish costumes and Euro synth Pop becoming the sound du jour”

 

Synth pop and outlandish costumes in pop music? Wow, that’s certainly a frightening new development. Have rock bands also started playing guitars and singing into microphones in 2010? Please confirm this startling revelation. Since your credentials include self-proclaimed “editor” of your own personal blog, you’re the only one I trust in this matter, David.

 

Here’s another bit I liked:

 

“From there on in, however, things rapidly descend into frat boy, keg party thinking and a pre-pubescent obsession with getting wasted and rueful abandon”

 

Umm…do you know many eight-year-olds obsessed with getting wasted? I figured they were into stickers and LEGOs around that age. Does the obsession with rueful abandon suddenly evaporate when boys get hairier testicles and girls start wearing bras? And if that’s the case, how does it lend itself to keg parties and frats? Are you saying that music about “getting drunk and partying hard” should be a subdued affair, or am I just not understanding your logic?

 

Moving on, David, you might consider pumping the brakes on your aspiration to be the oracle of 2010 before it gets out of hand:

 

“Ke$ha has the eyes of the world looking her way for a series of year defining singles. Going on the strength of Animal however, that isn’t going to happen.”

 

I know, huh? Once listeners get wind of the strength of Animal, they’re sure to shut off their radios in protest. David, despite your steadfast reading of the bones, I doubt a 22-year-old British boy’s opinion of the “strength” of this album is going to stem the tide of consumer preference if it turns out that enough listeners like the album you personally loathed.

 

But that’s really what this is about, a boy’s distaste for an album that from all indications seems geared towards the ladies in the audience anyway:

 

“Overall Animal is a dumb album. Where it tries to be empowering and fun it comes off sounding like a spoilt brat singing the American Pie script through auto-tune.”

 

Here’s something to think about, David. Maybe an album by Ke$ha is not meant to be empowering for a young man who’s revealed he likes the following:

 

“dance-inspired drums backing a seductive McGuiness talking of a girl”

“a ferocious battle anthem which sees rapid fire vocals interspersed with a machine gun like guitar”

“a intercontinental strut with melodies interspersing hooks and a killer breakdown”

 

Power to the fellas, David.