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This triumphant self-possession comes so naturally to Christina that it's hard not to wish that she acted so boldly throughout Bionic, letting the entirety of the record be as distinctly odd as its best moments.
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Because she's bold enough to do it her way, Aguilera maintains her reign.
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Bionic, the 29-year-old's fourth studio release, is a disappointing album that will have listeners asking: Will the real Christina Aguilera please stand up?
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It would've been fascinating to see how far a full-blown collaboration might've taken her, but Aguilera spreads out the songwriting and production credits in search of more hits, most of which come off as flimsy gimmicks.
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It shouldn't come as a shock that Bionic is not a very good record. What should is that the conversation about how bad it is has become one of the most vitriolic and fascinating conversations pop music has recently provoked.
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It's a horribly overlong, confused creation and Aguilera's brash personality and lioness voice are often sacrificed in pursuit of its many different styles. But when its experiments work, she's never sounded so interesting.
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Whatever the case, for Christina Aguilera, the x-factor has gone. The daring single minded focus has apparently been lost.
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Aguilera's vocal supremacy has always been her multi-octave trump card. Alas, that natural gift is too often negated on Bionic by her penchant for stock step-class beats and an aggressive, exhausting hypersexuality.
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For the most part--and in the album's most successful vein--Aguilera plays a hyper-sexed lover bot ready to tie you to the bed posts rather than tie your ears into knots with a well-executed legato.
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Aguilera has a fantastic voice, which, when used properly, can carry a song that would have otherwise been fairly ordinary (Prima Donna being just one example) and the production on most of the songs is exemplary. It's just unfortunate that either Aguilera or her label didn't have the balls to make a very brave and exciting pop record.
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Daring as some of the tracks are, they overwhelmingly loop her vocal around a generic house lick that has the effect of giving her very little to do vocally.
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As convincing as she attempts to sound, Bionic does nothing to persuade authenticity.
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Sure, her formidable pipes are as strong as ever, but on every song she comes across as a pale imitation of someone else.
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In the end, it is Aguilera's overzealous penchant for excess that leaves this comeback short of, well, being any good.
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Things stall mid-album with a string of dull ballads.
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Sure, her voice remains full, brash, and loud. But ultimately, so much of what passes for hedonism on Bionic feels synthetic and compulsory.
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Buried under reverb, distortion, and computer st-st-stutter, our pop astronaut mostly wastes the forward-thinking production with cringeworthy lines.
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Outside of her exceptional vocal abilities, Aguileraâ??s main talent thus far has been absorbing and regurgitating trends with such commitment that she essentially disappears behind a calculated varnish.
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If nothing else, it all proves that Aguilera is a woman of many parts, which may be the point of this occasionally brilliant and brave, occasionally teeth-gritting and stupid album.
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Now, on her new album, Bionic, how has she decided to present herself? Mostly as a sexbot: a one-dimensional hot chick chanting come-ons to club beats.
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Left unasked is the question of whether you needed that-the bondage theme, the 10-octave tantrum, the synth war, all of that-but don't expect the rest of her new album, Bionic, to inquire, either.
Awards & Rankings
User score distribution:
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Positive: 672 out of 832
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Mixed: 61 out of 832
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Negative: 99 out of 832
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Sep 12, 2011
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ChristineJun 9, 2010
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Jul 12, 2011