GrooveOut

by Gregg Shapiro

DIVAS IN DISTRESS

From Mariah to Justin, singers belt it out despite personal tribulations

After her very public and hard-earned Glitter-y meltdown following the failure of both her debut as a movie starlet and the silly accompanying soundtrack, I was hoping that Mariah Carey would emerge from her padded cocoon a new woman. I had hoped that she would abandon her urban "Star Search" theatrics and think Pink, but, alas, that hasn't happened.

Indistinguishable from most of her last few releases, the much-ballyhooed Charmbracelet (Monarc/Island) is more like a choker. Sometimes playing it safe (boring, redundant) works against an artist, as it does on this album. Other things that work against Carey include backing vocals by one of the Chipmunks ("You Got Me"), her breathy Marilyn Monroe cooing ("You Had Your Chance," "Lullaby"), and clichéd ballads ("Through the Rain," "My Saving Grace").

I'm going to go out on a limb and offer up a few words of praise for Just Whitney (Arista), the uneven new album by dazed diva Whitney Houston. Whitney spends a little too much time lashing out in song at those who criticize her (think Michael Jackson's "Leave Me Alone" times 10) and demands our pity. Yes, Whitney. Poor you. All that money, all those dead brain cells. Next! Instead of that dim cover of "You Light Up My Life," you would have been better off covering Warren Zevon's "Poor Poor Pitiful Me." Whitney, honey, put down that Bible and pick up a sense of humor!

Now, back to the words of praise. "One of Those Days" (which puts to good use "recycled elements" of The Isley Brothers' "Between the Sheets") and "Tell Me No" get things started in an upbeat fashion. "Try It on My Own" is a pleasant Carole Bayer Sager (and four other writers!) ballad, and Whitney "keeps it real," and "Dear John Letter" allows her to explore her funkier side.

On Christina Aguilera's newest album, Stripped (RCA), the Britney-esque belter who looks like she's badly in need of a Silkwood shower, promises us that we will hear her side of the story. With vocal support from Li'l Kim, Christina finds power in sisterhood and self-expression on "Can't Hold Us Down," and follows it up with an average Mariah Carey imitation on "Walk Away." The former Mouseketeer enlisted tattooed and pierced guitar god Dave Navarro for the quasi-rock number "Fighter" and attempts to remind us of her Latin roots (in case we forgot her 2000 Spanish-language Mi Reflejo) with "Infatuation." Alicia Keys offers Christina encouragement to "speak on" what she has on her mind on "Impossible" (insert joke here), but the album takes a brief and unexpectedly pleasant turn on the lovely Linda Perry-penned "Beautiful" (the music video features a passionately kissing gay male couple and a transgender person). The openly queer Perry, who had a hand in the redesign of Pink's image, attempts to do the same with Aguilera, especially on the suitably titled "Make Over" (which they co-wrote), but it falls short. The only thing Aguilera demonstrates on the album's first single, "Dirrty," is that she could use a dictionary for Christmas. To think, we have Madonna to thank for this.

Barbra Streisand shares the spotlight with divas from the past (Judy Garland, Donna Summer, and Johnny Mathis) as well as those who still have a firm grasp on their divahood (Celine Dion, Josh Groban, and Barbra herself) on the compilation Duets (Columbia). Duets from the 1960s ("Get Happy/Happy Days Are Here Again," from 1963, with Garland and "Ding Dong the Witch Is Dead," from 1966, with Harold Arlen, the song's composer) are a reminder of the purity of Streisand's vocals in her youth. Some of her biggest duets were released in the '70s ("You Don't Bring Me Flowers" with Neil Diamond and "No More Tears" with Summer) and paved the way for the 1980 duets with Barry Gibb on the Guilty album. Her other '80s duets, with Kim Carnes and one-time lover Don Johnson, are uninspired, at best. The two new duets recorded for the album, "I Won't Be the One to Let Go" (with Barry Manilow) and "All I Know of Love" (with Groban), sadly don't live up to expectations.

Every time I hear Shania Twain sing, I have to wonder who is buying her CDs, other than Wal-Mart shoppers. Her latest, Up! (Mercury), debuted in the number-one chart position, so I know that someone, somewhere is purchasing her music. In fact, she seems to have enough supporters in both the country and pop music realms to justify releasing a double-disc set, consisting of the same 19 songs, performed in pop-music arrangements (disc one) and new country settings (disc two). Mostly it sounds derivative to me, not particularly unique or fresh. The album feels as if it is cloaked in a commercial safety net. What makes all of this especially bizarre is that Twain's husband and co-songwriter is Robert John "Mutt" Lange, who made a name for himself as the producer of albums by Def Leppard, AC/DC, Foreigner, and even The Cars during the 1980s.

Broadway diva Betty Buckley's sensational mid-'90s and early 2000 discs were thoughtful combinations of standards, new and old (including compositions by Joni Mitchell and Mary Chapin Carpenter), and gave the listener an indication of Ms. Buckley's impressive musical taste. Her latest disc, The Doorway (Fynsworth Alley/Varese Sarabande), has a more traditional feel to it, with her renditions of "With a Song in My Heart," "Autumn Leaves," and "God Bless America.' In fact, the whole album has a 9/11 memorial quality. There is "an improvisation" titled "A Loss of Heroes" as well as a medley of "America the Beautiful"/"Bridge Over Troubled Water."

Jennifer Lopez, the urban diva formerly known as J. Lo, is now just plain "Jenny from the Block," as she sings in the song of the same name from her confusingly titled This Is Me . . . Then (Epic). The singing actress refines her act, still borrowing from the best (Teddy Pendergrass on "Still," Mtume on "Loving You," Linda Creed and Thom Bell on "The One," and so on) as P. Diddy taught her. It sure beats writing original music. And yes, the song "Dear Ben," for beau du jour Affleck, is as schmaltzy as you might imagine. However, her cover of Carly Simon's "You Belong to Me" and the original song "I've Been Thinkin'" (a frightening prospect, indeed) pass muster.

To many, Justin Guarini of American Idol fame was 2002's male diva in distress, losing out to tweety and twangy Texan Kelly Clarkson. Another Justin, Timberlake, also qualifies as a diva in distress, what with his painful and public break-up with singing blow-up doll Britney Spears and all. A December 2002 Advocate cover boy, Timberlake released his eagerly anticipated solo disc Justified (Jive), which would have been better off titled Jacksonified, because it sounds so much like a Michael Jackson album. Timberlake conjures Jacko on several tracks, even going so far as to recreate his upper-register vocals on tracks such as "(And She Said) Take Me Now," "Like I Love You," "Cry Me a River," and "Rock Your Body," not to mention his dance moves. There's a touch of vintage Stevie Wonder on "Nothin' Else," and he even does a righteous Prince impression on "Right for Me." This is all to say that while Timberlake has no trouble sounding like other people, I'm looking forward to the album on which he feels secure enough in his talent to sound like himself.

Pop culture journalist Gregg Shapiro is also a published fiction writer and poet. He has a poem in the new collection, Sweet Jesus (Anthology Press).