Tim Brough's Black Leather Bookshelf

Girl Powerless
3 Out Of 5 Stars

Katy Perry had her taste of fluffy pop success with "Teenage Dream," which was an insubstantial album, but loaded with inescapable pop hooks. It was a flirty, teasing album filled with songs of coming into your own ("Firework," the title track) and goofy songs about being teenaged and irresponsible ("Last Friday Night"). There was also obvious filler ("E.T."). but enough good material to compensate. Not so "Prism." Every song is synth laden and seems to ditch the goofy fun of "Teenage Dream" for songs about empowerment and being more grown-up about life.

Someone should have warned her. The girl who danced around with fruit bowls on her head is not the lady making "Prism." Only "Roar," "Walking On Air" and the lovely "By The Grace Of God" pull this CD out from the ranks of a total dud. Perry is still a gifted enough songwriter that even the filler is catchy, but unlike "Teenage Dream," the filler is quickly forgettable. Perry is holding back here. Where is the personality? She sounds restrained, the kind of pop that plenty of other pop-tarts come up with on a regular basis, where "Teenage Dream" and her debut "One of The Boys" often came of as flirty and fiery, now she just sounds like she wants to be taken seriously. "Unconditionally" calls out for love that lasts forever, but not with any spark.

The obligatory guest shot comes from Juicy J, who doesn't have the spike of Snoop Dog on the summer anthem "California Gurls." "Dark Horse" again suffers from a lack of a sense of fun. Perry just isn't a gifted enough singer to convey the kind of emotional depth that "Prism" demands of the songs. "Roar" made for high expectations, but "Prism" just doesn't measure up. It's an average album from a woman who suggested that she may have had more to offer than platitudes and easy cliches. It just sounds like she's not trying very hard.

Deep Within The Valley
3 Out Of 5 Stars

I am among those who believe that "Born and Raised" was one of John Mayer's greatest achievements. Introspective lyrics, thoughtful singing, nicely played singer songwriter music. But I now guess that those introspection motivations have been purged from his system, as "Paradise Valley" plays the same sort of lite-folk rock, but without the emotional substance. Sure, he still plays guitar like the whizz-kid he was when his first album dropped 10 years ago (!), and he shoulders the mantle of early eighties Eric Clapton quite well. However, Clapton's albums in the early eighties were light-weight. So is "Paradise Valley."

It does indicate that the folk-pop of "Born and Raised" was no fluke, and many of the songs here sound delightful on first passing. "Wildfire" really does that "Slowhand" thing better than about anyone short of Eric himself, or even how it neatly references the style of Jerry Garcia, and it's hard to go wrong when you pick a song from the late JJ Cale as your cover-version ("Call Me The Breeze," ironically first popularized by Lynyrd Skynyrd). He goes for some of that introspection on "Dear Marie," but the lyric is more like a self-directed pity party. Same goes for "Paper Doll," his response to Taylor Swift's "Dear John." Although I love the line about "22 girls in one." It's all cushioned in the 70's style that defined the likes of Linda Ronstadt and James Taylor as kingpins of mellow country rock, right down the pedal steel in the clever "You're No-one Till Someone Lets You Down."

There are still a couple of unpredictable moments here that, oddly enough, come from the invited guests. Hip-hop artist Frank Ocean does a brief reprise of "Wildfire" that recasts the album's opening gambit as a soulful interlude. The other of "Paradise Valley's" hidden surprises comes courtesy of Katy Perry, who drops the over the top pop chanteuse act long enough to deliver a nuanced and effective duet on "Who You Love." Given Perry's flair for confectionery pop without a drop of subtlety, coming off as a genuine romantic singer will shock both her critics and those who may question Mayer's instincts.

That's not enough to save "Paradise Valley" from being something of a letdown. I doubt if Mayer has run out of things to try, as "Paradise Valley" is as different as "Continuum" was to "Heavier Things" or for that matter, the blues/pop balance of "Battle Studies." It's more of a refinement of "Born and Raised" instead of a growth from it, so "Paradise Valley" sounds just fine without exceeding Mayer's previous or better albums.


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I wish they all could be California Gurls
3 Out of 5 Stars

Katy Perry pulls off a serious surprise on "Teenage Dream": she goes from low quality candyfloss to fine spun sugar cotton. Not only is this album song for song a better deal than "Me and The Boys," the album is a pure-pop tease of silly sexiness, adolescent yearnings, girl-power can-do and a modern-pop hookfest. Granted, this is an album geared towards having as many hits and radio spins as possible, but sometimes a purely well crafted guilty pleasure can brighten a dull day. Katy Perry recognizes this truism and pushes it as hard as she can.

Besides, there is no way to avoid the fact that both the title track and "California Gurls" are ear-worms of the highest caliber. She'd already learned her way around a good hook as songwriter before becoming a star, on "Teenage Dream" she increases the confidence and the firepower. While not the greatest of singers (and autotune rears its head a bit too many times), she uses enthusiasm and dramatic flair to bring the songs home.

She's also unafraid of doing purely dumb songs, which never hurts a flirty image. "Peacock" is her answer to "My Humps" or even the X-rated niece to the long ago "Mickey" by Toni Basil. "ET" is the miss in that division, as there are too many forced metaphors to make the joke work as novelty. It's also hard to balance this kind of contorted silliness with the 'serious' songs ("Circle The Drain" and "Pearl"). Bragging that you want to see a guy's pea-cock-cock-cock undercuts the intended message of the strong willed woman urging her girlfriend to dump the abusive creep in "Pearl." Well done confections like "Firework" and even the melodramatic "Not Like The Movies" (which sounds like it means to be Katy's version of Pink's "Glitter In the Air") are endearing without sounding schizophrenic in the context of the whole album.

Yet who am I to say. While I enjoy the choco-pop-ice cream that is "Teenage Dream," the teen girls dreaming of stardom and empowerment will likely think "Pearl" is dead on, and that is where Perry gets her juice. The bulk of the songs are top-notch (don't believe me? Find the Glee rendition of "Teenage Dream" and tell me it's not a glorious bit of songcraft). Much like Cyndi Lauper before her, Katy Perry is making the best of her individuality, her sense of fun and her genuine talents.