Album review: Loved Me Back to Life by Celine Dion
The wailing diva’s back, and someone advised her to slum it with the kind of hip-hop influenced electronic productions typical among the 20-something pop glitterati. Dion survives the transposition, proving that the autotuned, autopiloted turns of the Mileys and Rihannas can’t substitute for commanding vocal prowess and genuine power.
For all that, her problem remains the same as ever: that every note she sings is an emotional punchline, that there’s never, ever, any holding back, making the net result about as emotionally complex as a musical greeting card.
Many of these excuses for songs are clearly written by focus groups, which is unintentionally emphasised by her pointless cover of a really great piece, Janis Ian’s “At Seventeen”.
And what’s with the title, with its connotations of necrophilia and resurrection? Ewww!