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Music Review:
I'm Not Dead, Pink
I'M NOT DEAD
1. Stupid Girls
2. Who Knew
3. Long Way To Happy
4. Nobody Knows
5. Dear Mr. President (featuring Indigo Girls)
6. I'm Not Dead
7. 'Cuz I Can
8. Leave Me Alone (I'm Lonely) 9. U + Ur Hand
10. Runaway
11. The One That Got Away
12. I Got Money Now
13. Conversations With My 13 Year Old Self
14. I Have Seen The Rain (featuring James T. Moore)
15. Fingers (UK bonus)
16. Centrefold (UK bonus)
JUICY TIDBITS
After an apathetic debut years ago, Pink seemed set for the bargain bin at the local HMV. Her first album, Can’t Take Me Home (2000), produced run-of-the-mill R&B singles “There You Go” and “You Make Me Sick.” The only thing that set Pink apart from the rest was her unusually pink hair and her penchant for beating up guys in her music videos. A harsh review from Amazon spared the pleasantries: “The contrivance level is high on this debut by R&B singer named for her out-of-bottle hair colour…[she’s] positioned midway between mainstream hip hop soul and poor imitations of Kelis-style anger.” Although most of this critique is spot on, the last part is kind of unforgiving – after all, how is Kelis spending her time nowadays?
But after some deep soul-searching, another bottle of pink hair dye, a guitar, and a much-publicized feud with Christina Aguilera (almost a rite of passage in this industry), Pink came back with Mizzundaztood (2001). She was vocal about her resistance to the heavy-handed studio machinations that tried to mold her into a cookie-cutter act, and set the tone for the new Pink with hits like “Get The Party Started,” “Don’t Let Me Get Me,” and “Just Like A Pill.” The critic reviews for this album seemed receptive to this reinvention, with one Amazon review praising her newfound introspection and “driving alt-rock” sound. Pink managed to avoid the sophomore curse and produced an album worth buying, which excited many who recognized Pink’s talents.
Then came Try This (2003), which was a commercial disappointment. Despite lucrative collaborations, the album fell flat. In spite of poor sales, critics were not as quick to dismiss Pink. “She’s at her very best raiding her own troubled autobiography for inspiration, spitting out vocal epitaphs like seeds from a ripe watermelon instead of the angst-ridden confessional romp she took through Mizundaztood,” wrote an Amazon reviewer, who was obviously thinking of someone else, and perhaps craving a refreshing slice of watermelon. Although Pink had grown as a songwriter, Try This was a step back from the rebirthing process she took during Mizzundaztood.
It almost seemed like Pink was out of tricks, so it would be apt that she would come back with an album named I’m Not Dead, a title that was obviously aimed at her detractors. And even if the third time isn’t quite the charm, Pink proves that the fourth time around is.
Pairing up with Max Martin, producer for acts like Britney Spears and Kelly Clarkson, Pink set out to expand her musical repertoire. Her first single, “Stupid Girls,” denounced the lack of female role models in today’s media culture, and poked fun at the usual suspects: Lindsay Lohan, Jessica Simpson, one or more of the Olsen twins, and Paris Hilton. The music video is a testament to Pink’s refusal to be apologetic about the potshots directed at her counterparts – as she writhes on the hood of a car with blonde extensions and a bikini, she croons, “Maybe if I act like that, that guy will call me back / Porno paparazzi girl, I don't wanna be a stupid girl.” Just like Eminem’s penchant for satirical first singles, Pink’s “Stupid Girls” roared in like a lion and let audiences and critics alike know that her two-year absence did not soften her in the very least.
As far as first singles go, “Stupid Girls” is not stellar; the lyrics and music come together but it does take a while to grow on you. The same can be said about the rest of the album – on the trial run, I didn’t much care for most of the tracks. But anything will grow on me eventually (hence my tolerance of most “American Idol” contestants), and so I’m Not Dead sounded better and better each time it looped on my media player. In addition to catchy melodies, most of the singles boast thoughtful lyrics and Pink’s trademark killer vocals. Say what you will about her stage name, her fashion choices, or her sometimes frightening persona, but the woman can sing.
The album veers from poppy, radio-friendly singles to rock hard tracks to folksy ditties – a wide range from an artist who is constantly challenging people to define her. “Long Way To Happy,” a rock ballad about a break-up gone awry, starts off slow with monotonous vocals, but quickly picks up with an electric guitar and a solid chorus. Another strong song is “Cuz I Can,” a rock send-up reminiscent of Marilyn Manson’s vocal style and phrasing, with Pink’s sardonic bravado – perhaps channeling the machismo of many rappers today – keeping steady with the heavy background beats. “I drink more than you / I party harder than you do / And my car's faster than yours too,“ she begins, an imagined sneer across her face. Of course Pink doesn’t actually think these things, but the song nicely illustrates the danger of believing your own hype. “I live a life of sin, but it's all right / I don't give a damn / I don't play your rules, I make my own,” she sings later, intoning the all too real mentality of many, many celebrities. If you like “Cuz I Can,” you’ll also love “I Got Money Now,” a compelling R&B ballad that speaks about the ails of fame. Pink’s not the first person to pen such a track (think Eminem’s ode to stalkers in “Stan” or even Britney Spears’ insipid alter-ego in “Lucky”), but she’s done one of the best jobs by far.
Pink’s satire is left at the door for singles like “Dear Mr. President,” “Runaway,” and “Conversations With My 13 Year Old Self.” It’s not a big surprise that these seem like weak songs to me, because I do like my artists jaded and angry. Despite my bias, Pink puts forth a decent effort with the first two tracks. In “Dear Mr. President,” a folksy duet with the Indigo Girls, Pink writes an open song to the current president and leaves no room for compromise. The message is punctuated with compelling lyrics (“How can you say / No child is left behind / We're not dumb and we're not blind / They're all sitting in your cells / While you pave the road to hell,” Pink sings rhetorically at one point), but the track lacks a discernible melody. What passes for a melody will just make you wish the song would hurry up and end, which I admit is an awful thought to have because I do admire Pink’s social consciousness. “Runaway,” likewise, tackles big issues but is sluggish and doesn’t pick up until the chorus, which halfway redeems the song – until you get to the bridge, which is kind of wretched. Also, I kind of liked it better when Avril Lavigne did it in “Nobody’s Home.” I guess it’s a good thing that Pink and Lavigne are close friends, so that the comparison will offend neither person. And speaking of Lavigne, “Leave Me Alone (I’m Lonely),” a schizophrenic track about pulling and pushing away in a relationship, is reminiscent of Lavigne’s poppy, upbeat style.
In “Conversations With My 13 Year Old Self,” Pink takes a page out of her junior high diary and sings it word for word. A sweeping orchestra swells in the background as Pink sings, “Don't lose your passion or the fighter that's inside of you / You're the girl I used to be / The pissed off complicated thirteen year old me.” I can respect Pink’s artistic need to explore her childhood, but I don’t necessarily have to hear it in a song, especially when she’s already done it several times and in better tracks.
“U + Ur Hand” is a catchy beat-heavy track with intercepting guitar riffs. Pink gets the full attitude on and blasts all touchy-feely men in clubs who just can’t get the hint. “I’m not here for your entertainment,” she sing-screams, and then the best lyrics ever: “Keep your drink / Just give me the money / Just you and your hand tonight.” “The One That Got Away” also has some pretty funny lyrics, but I’m guessing that’s totally unintentional. In a stream-of-consciousness style, Pink channels Bob Dylan but hasn’t quite got the lyrical style down. In the second verse, you can hear nuggets like this: “Two weeks later I was sitting in his apartment / He was making cappuccino / I said what kind of man makes cappuccino / We laughed / We laughed / We laughed.” Personally, I don’t think making cappuccino is especially funny, even if it is a man making the java. But I do give Pink points for effort, and for some great harmonizing on this song. “I'm not a victim of clichés,” Pink sings, but oh, she lies with “I’m Not Dead,” which is riddled with formulaic lyrics but manages to hold together with effective vocals and backing track.
Also included in this album, and as the last song, is a duet with her father, James Moore. “I Have Seen The Rain” is a folksy song that Pink’s father penned after the Vietnam War, and it’s a beautiful single in its simplicity. With only the aid of an acoustic guitar, Pink shows that she doesn’t need gimmicks to sing a compelling song. “Fingers” and “Centrefold,” bonus tracks on the UK release of I’m Not Dead, make great club anthems. “Fingers,” especially, is a frantic and very sexy track that never lets up from the first beat – it’s like a song on speed. (The UK version is much recommended if only for these two bonus tracks, which will appease fans that miss Pink’s dance-ready songs.)
This is Pink back in true form and in her element. Whether she’s denouncing vapid women, tackling social issues, or stewing over a break-up, she’s doing her thing. And with I’m Not Dead, that is a very good thing indeed. ¤ C.Ho.
I'M NOT DEAD:
(out of 5)