One of the most perilous moments in any early relationship (for me anyway) is not meeting the parents, but ‘meeting the music’ in the new flame’s collection.
When I first scanned the CDs in my future wife’s collection, I was struck by the lack of crossover, but pleased by the substance and legitimacy of much on display (mainly bluesy rock classics and African curiosities).
The oddity was this (then) recent release – the big Aussie chartbuster of said year. I seem to recall there was some excuse for its presence, such as “it was a gift” or “I was drunk”.
It hasn’t hampered our relationship, as I hadn’t heard or thought of the CD again until today.
This is just a slicker, overproduced, and ultimately weaker, version of such acts. It is cynical in the way that Hollywood remakes of foreign films are, with the mechanics right, but the spirit lacking. It is overwrought and undernourishing:
File under: Thankfully not a reflection of my better half’s taste