Music Moment: Memoirs of an Imperfect Angel

Let’s just stew, for a moment, in some gem lines that Mariah Carey graces us with on her new album, Memoirs of an Imperfect Angel:

“It’s goin’ down like a denominator.”
“Love you like a frost pop, love you like a milkshake.”
“This is for real, for real, for real. / Oprah Winfrey whole segment for real.”
“Not even a nail technician with a whole lotta gel and acrylic could fix this. If we were two Lego blocks, even the Harvard University graduating class of 2010 couldn’t put us back together again.”
“Seein’ right through you like you’re bathin’ in Windex.”

On “More Than Just Friends,” after Mariah sings “I wanna be all on your lips like gelato,” we get a helpful backup rapper exclaim “ICE CREAM!” in case we were unaware that gelato (which fits with the rhyme scheme) is ice cream.

There’s also a song called “Candy Bling.”

All said, this is Mariah doing Mariah. Same ridiculous lyrics. Same bizarre 80’s cover song (this time around, it’s Foreigner’s I Want To Know What Love Is). Same penchant for proving that she does indeed have a really awesome whistle register by using it on every goddamn song’s climax. Same font that her name’s been scrawled in for every album except last year’s E=MC². Same vocal acrobatics all over the damn place. Same catchy, easily-digestible pop/R&B goodness. (All that’s missing, really, is a one-word title that would be better suited to a Lisa Frank line of products: something like Meadow or Breeze or Sunshine; hell, I wouldn’t put it past Mariah to have an album named French Braid.)

But all these ridiculous attributes are what make Mariah appealing. She’s campy and she’s over the top, but she seems to at least realize that she’s putting on a persona. Take, for example, the laughing that comes in at the end of that aforementioned ridiculous line about the entire Harvard University graduating class of 2010. Mariah at least isn’t oblivious, which makes this music go down easier. We’re laughing with her, not at her.

Where Memoirs falters is in variety. Her previous albums have been compilations of collaborations with several different producers, leading to albums like E=MC² where you’ll get a reggae-influenced song, a straight-up gospel ballad, a T-Pain abomination, and a retro-inspired upbeat number all on the same album. Here, everything sounds generally like Butterfly-meets-Rainbow. Butterfly isn’t a terrible album, but Rainbow certainly is, so you get some of Rainbow’s monotonous generic R&B background droning on some tracks like “The Impossible.” As the whole album is streamlined from a production standpoint, you get a lot of the same style thrown at you – count how many songs feature a really strong snare on the 2- and/or 4-count of the beat. It’s not detrimental, but the album is on the longer side at just under an hour, so you can’t help but wonder if a couple of the songs or at least the handful of reprises or interludes could’ve been ditched.

All said, though, it’s clear that Mariah will remain relevant for at least a few more years. After the disastrous post-Glitter years, it’s nice to see one of our perennial divas in fine form for three albums in a row. (Hell – she’s courting Oscar buzz for the upcoming Precious. Who would’ve thought that would ever be possible?) I don’t know if Mariah will ever rise above the task of putting out a merely competent record and make a defining artistic statement – she certainly hasn’t yet. But on each of her albums, you see glimmers of the possibility (here, it’s probably on “Up Out My Face (Reprise),” which out of nowhere, re-contextualizes a song as a boisterous marching band instrumental – it’s kind of awesome). For now, though, we have another album of largely-enjoyable tracks to tide us until Mariah decides to push herself that extra step to make a truly great album. B+

Music Moment: “Ellipse” by Imogen Heap

Full disclosure first: Imogen Heap is without a doubt my favorite musical artist. Frou Frou’s Details is my most-played album in iTunes (Imogen Heap is one half of Frou Frou with producer Guy Sigsworth), and “Hide and Seek” is my most-played song. The song in second place has almost half as many plays as “Hide and Seek” (though in my defense, I liked it before it was used on The O.C.). So I was bound to like Imogen’s latest, Ellipse. And, surprise surprise: I do quite like Ellipse.

If the album is at all anticlimactic, it’s because Imogen’s been so thorough in her use of various social networking during the creation of the album. There’s a 40-episode VBlog on YouTube that spans the last two years, chronicling the renovation of Imogen’s childhood home where she now lives, including the creation of a dream studio where she eventually recorded the album. The whole thing will eventually be edited down into a feature-length documentary to be released at a later date.

What strikes me about the endeavor now, having rewatched nearly all of them in light of the album’s release, is how similar the experience was to watching Shut Up & Sing, the wonderful documentary about the Dixie Chicks, which followed them, in part, as they made their last album. Both video projects were great in terms of seeing the creative process play out and track how songs evolved and changed and eventually ended up at their finished iterations. The by-product of the VBlogs is that, having been a part of Ellipse’s creation for over a year now, however indirectly, I feel attached to Imogen’s new album being a success (and I’m sure it’s telling that I feel it’s only appropriate to address her on a first-name basis in this review).

Thankfully, it is a success, though it isn’t without a couple nitpicky details I might change. Imogen’s music has always masterfully balanced the coldness that is inherent to electronic music with the warmth and passion of her vocals and lyrics. Ellipse is more than successful on this front. In an album full of synthesized sounds, the clear emotional strength of Imogen’s style comes through loud and clear. Songs like “Wait It Out” (about the inevitable end of a relationship) and “Half Life” (about unrequited love) are emotional standouts, but the upbeat songs fare just as well. The peppy “Tidal” and cheeky “Bad Body Double” are practically giddy.

If there’s one disappointment with the album, it’s that there isn’t too terribly much innovation going on with Imogen as an artist. This is basically Speak for Yourself, Part II. Now, I love her previous album. But seeing the process of making the album for so long hinted at more innovation than what is ultimately on display here. And of course, at a base level, you just want to see your favorite artists develop their talents. “Swoon” is the most egregious example of this stasis on the album, with a backing beat that sounds sucked directly out of “Daylight Robbery” or “I Am In Love With You” from Yourself. “Canvas” and perhaps “Little Bird” are the album highlights, creatively-speaking, because they sound unlike anything Imogen’s done before (though “Little Bird” lacks some oomph). And while I’m nitpicking: the song order isn’t quite what I think it should be (“Tidal” sounds like a second-to-last song, and “The Fire” is more of a bonus after-the-last-song bit).

Ultimately, though, I’m ecstatic that Immi’s back making and releasing music. It’s so great to see an artist utilize the Internet so effectively (I’m following her on Twitter, too) to keep fans engaged even in the down time between projects. I can’t wait to finally see her on tour, and I can’t wait to wear Ellipse out on my iPod (can you “wear out” an MP3, though?). I’m confident there’s a groundbreaking album in Imogen yet (to use the common comparison to Björk, Immi’s definitely got a Homogenic in her), but with Ellipse, she still hasn’t made it. Yet. A-

Music Moment: “Obsessed” by Mariah Carey

Campy song title and concept? Check.
Silly song opening? Check.
The vintage Mariah font back in play? Check.
Heavy beat with Mariah going vocal crazy at the end? Check.
Mariah in her underwear in an overly sexy pose on the cover? Check.
Absolutely ridiculously awesome album title (Memoirs of an Imperfect Angel)? Check.

Mariah: never change. B+