CD: Christina Aguilera - Lotus

Xtina returns rebranded as The Survivor

share this article

Aguilera on 'Lotus', 'submerging from hurt, pain, broken pieces'

Entirely in keeping with the heightened narrative surrounding pop stars and their perpetual crises, Christina Aguilera’s recent history has been spun into the kind of tragedy worthy of Piaf or Callas. Her last album, Bionic, singularly failed to shift anywhere near the kind of numbers pop divas need to keep a hand on the crown; she had the temerity to put on a few pounds and – worse – seem pretty relaxed about it; she got divorced; she got drunk. Ravens were seen leaving the Tower.

These routine potholes in the yellow brick road are rigorously exploited and amplified on Lotus. Aguilera returns as a righteous, been-through-the-fire 30-something woman fuelled by industrial quantities of tears, anger and insatiable randiness. Her divorce is portrayed as a “rebirth”. “Circles” invites some hapless gent to swivel on her middle finger. The enjoyably disembodied title track talks of “submerging from hurt, pain, broken pieces... this is the beginning”. Can’t argue with that – it’s the first song. If you were to read the gushing acknowledgements aloud they would very possibly last longer than the album.

An hour of entry-level empowerment is not for everyone, but for all this nonsense Aguilera has always had two things going for her: the sense of an engaging personality lurking beneath the persona; and a voice that could strip paint at 100 paces. Both are well deployed on the pair of mid-album ballads, “Sing For Me” – “when I open my mouth my whole heart comes out” - and “Blank Page”, where the words and her weapons-grade vocals combine to conjure something close to real emotion.

Of the 11 remaining tracks, most are uptempo and committee-constructed, staying close to Rihanna's brand of brash disco-pop, none more so than “Around the World”. Most don’t quite stick, but a few burst through the don’t-scare-the-charts safety net. “Army of Me” is a big, ballsy fuck-you which recalls “Fighter” and possesses an irrepressible energy. Cee Lo Green pops up – sounding a bit like the fourth Bee Gee - on “Make the World Move”. And “Let There Be Love” is clinical club pop, formulaic but ruthlessly effective. The description holds for almost all of Lotus. It’s not bad. But is it enough to make this fighter a contender again?

Add comment

The content of this field is kept private and will not be shown publicly.
Name that you would like to appear as the author of the comment
An hour of entry-level empowerment is not for everyone

rating

3

explore topics

share this article

the future of arts journalism

You can stop theartsdesk.com closing! 

We urgently need financing to survive. Our fundraising drive has thus far raised £33,000 but we need to reach £100,000 or we will be forced to close. Please contribute here: https://gofund.me/c3f6033d

And if you can forward this information to anyone who might assist, we’d be grateful.

Subscribe to theartsdesk.com

Thank you for continuing to read our work on theartsdesk.com. For unlimited access to every article in its entirety, including our archive of more than 15,000 pieces, we're asking for £5 per month or £40 per year. We feel it's a great deal, and hope you do too.

To take a monthly subscription now simply click here.

Or
Why not take an annual subscription and save a third off our monthly price simply click here.

more new music

Surrealism, social observation and more muscular sound from the Leeds quartet
A powerful personal outpouring of joy and pain - with a great beat
The London quartet have taken to playing large venues with ease, as this career-spanning set showed
The Lebanese-French musician's father was behind a unique musical innovation
The Philadelphia punk rockers continue to impress
A partial account of how Brit-punk absorbed an aspect of reggae
The Fez Festival Of World Sacred Music and the Fes Gathering bring the world together
Bristol band aren't happy but offer up the occasional sing-along
A new album is unveiled and old tunes are played for the last time
Decades of psychedelia and wonder packed into a puzzling construction