CONFESSION
I have officially lost all of my musical credibility, something most of you know is very important to me, which most of the time has allowed me to skate through life with little else to go on. But this week I purchased RUDEBOX, by Robbie Williams, and I love it.
Williams is a 32-yr-old pop star who has conquered the world, one of the biggest household names everywhere—except in the United States, where his variation of post-Oasis pop/rock balladry has never quite broken into the commercial zone. In the UK, he started as a teenage "dancer" with the oddly homoerotic boy band Take That, and for the most part, he was not the star, nor did Take That make much of an impact in the US. This was in between the days of the New Kids and the Backstreet Boys, and Take That were likely far too British and far too gay to have any real success in the American alternative market. Not that they deserved success; the only tracks I've heard from them are abominable teenybop crap.
But apparently Williams decided he was tired of being a packaged pop star, and after lots of public infighting with his bandmates, he and Take That parted ways. Williams floundered for a bit on his own, but by 1997, he had teamed up with co-writer and producer Guy Chambers to craft a number of songs modelled after the Britpop craze that had hit his home country, an era of rock-and-roll that has always had a strange charm over me, as evident by my everlasting passion for Blur and Pulp . Still, he was a boyband guy, and his songs had a shiny radio sheen that had absolutely nothing to do with my tastes in the 1990s, the 2000s, or truly, even now.
RUDEBOX is a change of direction for Williams, however, and it falls much more in line with what appeals to me, and I'm guessing with America on the whole as well. A knowing, tongue-in-cheek testament to '80s electro, the record features—amongst other things—collaborations with the Pet Shop Boys, Lily Allen, and William Orbit; covers of songs by Tin Tin, the Human League, and My Robot Friend; lyrics about Madonna, prescription drugs, and autobiographical narratives that sound like the Streets. The album is definitely an experimentally mixed bag, and it has garnered just about the worst reviews any album has ever seen in the UK. Just watch Robbie ham it up, like never before, here:
Keep in mind, though, that Williams' audience as he began his solo career was primarily teen girls and their moms; as he grew artistically, he did what he could to age gracefully with his fans, and produced an overwhelming amount of adult contemporary schlock in order to keep them happy. Much of it is amusing and humorous schlock, as Williams is intelligent enough never to take himself too seriously, but as a music fan who prefers cult artists that cater to every creative whim they have, I can't say housewife schlock has any effect on me whatsoever.
On RUDEBOX, the housewife schlock is gone, and both fans and critics are *angry* about this. Despite the defensive nature of this post, I don't actually give Williams enough credit to stick to his guns and continue in this direction, but for now, he has rightfully earned his place in the Postmodern Accident hall of fame.
ABSOLUTION
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