Album Review
I'm bored today, so I'm posting my fake Britney Spears album review:
"On her latest album, Britney's fusing of the opposing musical forms of Bubblegum and the little-known, yet more highly regarded "Duesenburg Bete Noir" branch of the punk revivalist movement, results in a sonic feast not unlike that offered up by Ian Moore's recent release "Luminaria", itself a glorious conglomeration of Gospel and Southern Gothic, which the artist himself refers to as "Gothspel". Indeed, Miss Spears' current offering itself at times delves into the depths of the Louisiana bayous (from whence she originally came, of course), emerging coated not with the expected rollicking rhythms of the parish's Cajun and Zydeco traditions, but rather with the dark ooze of Southern Despair smeared across her otherwise rather fetching underbelly. One can only speculate whether this embracing of her heretofore unexplored swamp heritage is a result of her recent wallowing with some of Tinseltown's lesser mortals. If so, then those wallowings have not been in vain, for this album is a marvelous juxtaposition of the tension of the sweet, almost unendurable pain of longing for that which one cannot have, and the release achieved by the realization that the object of desire, while still unobtainable, is not that which it seemed to be. Overall, a stellar effort by someone frequently dismissed by the intelligentsia as unworthy of serious consideration."
"On her latest album, Britney's fusing of the opposing musical forms of Bubblegum and the little-known, yet more highly regarded "Duesenburg Bete Noir" branch of the punk revivalist movement, results in a sonic feast not unlike that offered up by Ian Moore's recent release "Luminaria", itself a glorious conglomeration of Gospel and Southern Gothic, which the artist himself refers to as "Gothspel". Indeed, Miss Spears' current offering itself at times delves into the depths of the Louisiana bayous (from whence she originally came, of course), emerging coated not with the expected rollicking rhythms of the parish's Cajun and Zydeco traditions, but rather with the dark ooze of Southern Despair smeared across her otherwise rather fetching underbelly. One can only speculate whether this embracing of her heretofore unexplored swamp heritage is a result of her recent wallowing with some of Tinseltown's lesser mortals. If so, then those wallowings have not been in vain, for this album is a marvelous juxtaposition of the tension of the sweet, almost unendurable pain of longing for that which one cannot have, and the release achieved by the realization that the object of desire, while still unobtainable, is not that which it seemed to be. Overall, a stellar effort by someone frequently dismissed by the intelligentsia as unworthy of serious consideration."
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