You gotta feel bad for every non-gay American not currently enraptured by Kylie Minogue. Sure, they know the Aussie diva for “The Loco-Motion” and, if they are at all conscious, her chart-ruling, early-a00s “Can’t Get You Out of My Head,” but post-”Fever,” Minogue’s been our best-kept secret. Sorry, straight world, but you’re missing out.
The business of turning a theater-born star into a bona fide pop act isn’t as easy as it looks, and Lea Michele knows this from seeing her “Glee” co-stars, Matthew Morrison and Kristin Chenoweth, make failed attempts.
The remarkable thing about “Transgender Dysphoria Blues” – besides, of course, it being an emancipating declaration of independence – is that it even exists. Can you imagine, in the late ’90s when this punk-rock quartet from Florida first rocked its way to notoriety, something as transgender-focused as this?
Jennifer Holliday is not going. And even though it’s been 23 years since the Grammy winner – the original Effie in Broadway’s “Dreamgirls” – released a secular solo studio album, she’s telling you … and you … and you.
It’s a new year, but we’re not done gushing over Beyoncé and that juggernaut of an album she surprise-dropped to a web blitz of industry-shattering joyousness.
So much for that high-concept, post-modern ingenuity that “ARTPOP” promised even before Lady Gaga hawked it as the album of not the year, not the decade, but of the millennium. This isn’t that album. Not even close.
…by the end of “Prism,” you kind of wish Katy were still kissing girls and blasting Reddi-wip from her tits.
Goodbye, Hannah Montana; hello tongue-wagging, midriff-baring Miley Cyrus. Slipping out of her child-star skin, the infamous twerker leads a band of misfits to independence and self-empowerment on “Bangerz,” a fully realized breakout from Billy Ray’s former Disney-star daughter. She’s not so innocent anymore, and that’s the point.
To find the truth on Cher’s first album of new material in 12 years, look beyond that over-polished, Britney-circa-”Femme Fatale”-era cover art, wherein the diva must’ve confused this shoot for a JCPenney underwear catalog.
The advantage of being an aging icon is the artistic freedom to do whatever the hell you want. And when you’re Elton John – legend, diva, grand master of pop – your high-ranking order merits an LP like “The Diving Board,” a throwback in the sense that he recorded it, upon the request of producer […]