Big megaprops to Tsathoggua, for his brilliant bait and switch. Here we all were tossing critical holy water at Corey's inhuman wailing and Carmen's guttural warblings in an effort to keep him safely under control in his underworld prison. But while we were all fretting about Carmen's continued bleating, we didn't realize what was truly going on, and now Tsathoggua's got an army of thousands, all of whom can be hypnotized into engaging in pretty much any behavior simply by the sound of one contestant's singing. Or just his picture in a random entertainment magazine. Or just a casual reference. Or, honestly, just by passing by a pottery shop. Well played, O Dark Overlord, well played. Truly a magnificent endgame on your part. No doubt, the subliminal messages you've placed in "Measure of a Man" will result in hundreds of thousands of blank-eyed, unwitting followers showing up at a particular Hollywood soundstage to congregate on a particular grated seal. And no number of magical defenses can withstand the crush of that much weight. And then, freedom! ["AND A SMORGASBORD!" -- Tsathoggua] Okay, anybody reading this site for the first time is going, "What the fuck? Did I stumble onto the synopsis of a really crappy horror rock opera from 1983? Or anime from 1998?" No, I will be reviewing Clay Aiken's debut album, Measure of a Man. Eventually. As soon as I work up the courage to listen to it again. But in the meantime, let me share a story about my dad. When I was a teenager, he used to drive me crazy with the way he'd talk about entertainment. If there was a show or a movie he wasn't interested in watching, he'd say, "I have no use for that." I'd be all, "Well, it's not supposed to be useful. It's Nightmare on Elm Street 2. You're just supposed to enjoy it." I was 14 or 15 at the time, so of course I knew everything. Now that I'm older, I realize what he meant by his terse rejection. He meant, "I'm a single dad working two jobs to make ends meet and spending approximately 17 minutes at home with my children each day. My parenting style right now consists of 'crossing my fingers and hoping things turn out okay.' I can't imagine why I would want to see a bunch of teens get chopped into small pieces while their parents steadfastly refuse to listen to them about what's going on."
My point here is that even when our entertainment choices have an amount of artistic accomplishment that can be measured only with the assistance of an electron microscope, we still kind of demand some sort of emotional fulfillment from it. Our demands may be as simple as "I want to shake my ass!" or "I'm having a bad day -- I want to see two dozen stuntmen decapitated!" or "I want a geeky-cute boy to sing that he loves me, because I'm surrounded by total assholes!" Because that's just how it is sometimes. All of this is to say I have no use for Measure of a Man. I'm not interested in the artificial romantic croonings of somebody who tries to make honest sexual expression seem filthy and wrong in interviews. I don't need to be taught simplistic messages about God and twoo wuv from Clay, any more than I need to be taught simplistic messages about world peace from Sting or debt relief from U2. I'm not at a point in my life where melodramatic oversinging is an acceptable substitute for sincerity, which is why I don't own any album by anybody currently (incorrectly) considered a "diva," except for Madonna. But then again, she'll certainly never be accused of oversinging. I couldn't possibly give two shits if an artist is a good role model for children. These are thoroughly selfish criticisms that have nothing to do with the quality of the album (which is bad enough on its own). But note that they're not based on some sort of elitist criteria of what music is supposed to be. I own two Everclear CDs. Not one. Two. On a fundamental level, I know that Everclear isn't a good band. At all. I know that every single one of their songs sounds almost exactly alike. I know that their guitar "licks" sound like a musical interpretation of binary code. But when I bought their albums, they fulfilled an emotional need for zippy, pissed-off songs about not being allowed to be happy. If you want to know exactly why pop tends to fill music critics with at least ennui, and more frequently, vicious loathing, its not because of sniffing pretensions about what music should "be." It's because so much mediocre pop music isn't trying to "be" anything at all. It's hard to judge certain pop albums on their own merits, when every riff, every word, every sentiment, sounds like every other riff, word, and sentiment on a half-dozen albums that just dropped in the "new releases" bin. Looking at it as a television critic, pop is far too frequently the musical equivalent of 95 percent of the primetime sitcom line-up. You'd be hard-pressed to explain to anybody why they should want to watch Married to the Kellys. What sort of entertainment need does Breckin Meyer fulfill, anyway?
And that's a good segue to Clay's album. "Measure of a Man" is the musical equivalent of ABC's Friday night comedy line-up. The emotional content of the ballads (and by that, I mean all 12 tracks) is thin, yet overwrought, and thoroughly insincere. The lyrics are thoroughly predictable and uninspired, as are Clay's vocal choices. Just as viewers will never be surprised by the punchlines on Hope & Faith, there is nothing on "Measure of a Man" that those who have heard Clay would find unexpected or challenging. Clay doesn't show any growth since his American Idol appearances, which to me, would mean trying to be more than just a decent singing voice. I would go so far as to say that he's regressed back to the ridiculously overwrought rendition of "Open Arms" that failed to get him into the finals the first time around. Well, I guess that's enough generic advance bitching. I've had my loins thoroughly girded by professionals -- let's go through the songs, note by overwrought glory note. 1. "Invisible." The bland, generic opening guitar line in this song makes it sound like Clay's about to break into an allergy medication ad. Actually, it sounds almost like one of the fake commercials your Sims can record in Studio Town if you own the "Superstar" expansion set for "The Sims." And then I start wondering if I'd enjoy this album more if Clay sung it all in the made-up language "The Sims" uses. This song is about stalking somebody you're secretly in love with, which is certainly a good message to send out to impressionable children. I wonder if Clay's a 7th Heaven fan? What I don't like about this song, more than the overwrought singing and laughably cheesy background vocals, is how stupid this song is when juxtapositioned with where Clay's life is at right now. The title refers to how some girl (one assumes) doesn't notice he's alive. At this moment, the very idea is ridiculous. I don't think even pre-American Idol nerdy Clay had this problem, if the profiles are an indication. These are the kinds of things that make me flag songs as insincere. It's like little Johnny Mayer singing about how he's going to be all big and famous someday and Madonna whining about the vagaries of Hollywood. I can't buy into this song. It's just not "real," as they say. Oh, and to songwriters and producers: When a line of the chorus only takes up half the time that the music is playing, just echoing the last word repeatedly to fill up space is lame and sad.
Here's a fun thing to do with the song: Listen to the chorus -- "If I was [sic] invisible, / then I could just watch you in your room. / If I was [sic] invincible, / I'd make you mine tonight." Now imagine Vern Schillinger singing it to you instead of Clay. Isn't it romantic? Unforgivable lyric: "Wish you could touch me with the colors of your life." Be sure to use protection, you two. 2. "I Will Carry You." Just by the title, you know exactly everything there is to know about the content of the song. When you (whoever you are) are having a bad day, Clay will be there for you. The lyrics don't get into any real specifics about any particular situation, because this song is all about listeners projecting their problems onto Clay and pretending that he's helping them because he loves them, and not a song inspired by actually helping someone in particular, which would make the song remotely interesting, so that's not going to happen. It's like R.E.M.'s "Everybody Hurts" as sung by a robot. And that's stupid, because Clay should be able to identify with this song, but the lyrics are so damned bland and vague ("No one ever said that life's an easy thing") that it's like being sent a musical sympathy card from somebody you've never met. As for the singing, Clay allows some breathiness to get into the verses, which is actually a good thing, because it lends a touch of variety, but the frying pan of talent comes back in full and painful force for the relentlessly melodramatic chorus and bridge. Unforgivable lyric: "That's the beauty of it. / When you lose your way, / close your eyes and go to sleep / and wake up to another day." Sleep away your problems? That's one of the symptoms of depression, you know. This is like one step away from encouraging people to take up drinking to deal with things. Runner-up: "When the stars go blind, / and the darkness starts to flood your eyes." What? Seriously…what? 3. "The Way." Please stop using echo effects on drum machines or anything else that produces percussive noises. They don't belong in any song that's not being used to produce atmosphere in a horror movie. They sound incredibly stupid and distracting. This song's about how Clay is learning all about love from you, the listener. Unless, of course, you know a little too much about love, because then you're a slut who sleeps around, and he doesn't want to have anything to do with you. That's not in the song. I just thought I'd warn any of you who hadn't read some of the interviews, just in case you were thinking of acting on what this song says. This is just a total boy band ballad. I can actually see a video with Clay dressed all in white, singing directly into the camera (that always creeps me out -- knock it off, lead singer of Train!), trying to look all swoony, while curtains blow around artistically in the background. I think there will be doves. And rose petals. Dear Clay: This is a song about having sex with your fans. You can dress it up with romantic lines, but like most pop music, it's about getting your spines reticulated. Dear parents of America: Yes, it's true. Pop stars do want to sleep with your teen children. Why are you so shocked? They wanted to sleep with you when you were a teen.
Unforgivable lyric: "There's something about the way that I whisper your name when I'm asleep." Yes, I'm sure it must have been upsetting to the other person who was in bed with you, who had to have been the one to inform you that you're muttering somebody else's name in your sleep. Unless you're taping yourself or something. Either way -- creepy. 4. "When You Say You Love Me." Okay, this is the same song as "The Way," except a little faster and with slightly altered lyrics. And he's actually having sex with you now instead of just singing about how he wants to learn about sex with you. You've taught Clay how to love! Aren't you so proud? But do you really love him back? Clay's not entirely sure, and this song's about how much he hopes you really love him. Do you? Do you really love him? Enough to buy seven candles made of goat tallow and place them on the floor of your bedroom in the shape of the ancient sigil of M'nerhh and perform the lost ritual of Hunekh Kharum? ["I'VE GOT MY FINGERS CROSSED. WELL, THESE ARE SOMEBODY'S FINGERS, ANYWAY." -- Tsathoggua] Unforgivable lyric: The folks on the forums caught this one. "They say if you wanna make God laugh, / all you gotta do is tell him your plans." Not only is it bizarre, it has almost nothing to do with the content of the song. No doubt writers Darren Hayes and Rick Nowels (it took two people to write this crap?) heard that somewhere once, thought it was clever, and were bound and determined to work it into a song. I mean, hearing the plans of AI contestants makes me laugh, too, but nobody's working that into a song. 5. "No More Sad Songs." The sound here is like trying to rip off Robbie Williams while he's trying to rip off Oasis while they're trying to rip off The Beatles. I think I would actually like this song if it weren't sung by Clay, and instead by somebody who could actually portray both anger and charisma musically. It's the angry "You reject me? No, I'll reject you!" song for the wronged. Except Clay sounds pretty much the same way he sounds in all the other songs. He should be sneering when he sings this, but I'm not feeling it. You can tell when Robbie's sneering when he sings, even if you can't see him. I mean, Clay couldn't even throw a proper hissyfit at a KFC worker. Overall, though, I think this is probably the only song I have even the remotest respect for, because it's at least based on real emotions, and not some romanticized greeting-card view of the world.
Unforgivable lyric: "Switch off, switch on. / I'm letting you know now." Using a light switch as a metaphor doesn't do wonders to enhance the sense of angry intensity at all. 6. "Run to Me." Man, he's really demanding we prove our love, isn't he? He wants to make sure we're all extremely loyal, you know. Okay, play the very opening of this song. Now go back and play the very opening of "The Way." They're just a little too similar. I've been to hot dog stands that have more variety than this album. This is the glory song. The chorus is just so over the top that you've got to admire the sheer audacity of it all. It's like watching Passions. I promise you, sometime within the year, this song will be playing in the background when some couple, either on television or in some bad romantic comedy, discovers they really do love each other after all and start making out. I know I said pretty much the same thing about "A Moment Like This" and "Before Your Love" at the end of the first season of American Idol. But I really mean it this time. Renee Zellweger and Ron Livingston are standing in the middle of a park, making out passionately, as the camera spins around them and this song plays. Unforgivable lyric: "Soon as you get that feeling, you can start to live again." Thanks for passing along that message that you're not really "living" after one relationship ends until you're ready to jump into another one. Also, shut up. This is my least favorite song on the album. That's saying a lot. 7. "Shine." This is not the wretched Diane Warren song that was inflicted upon us during the second season, so clearly there is a god. ["HELLO? I'M RIGHT HERE, YOU KNOW." -- Tsathoggua] Unfortunately, I didn't like this song all that much the first time around, when it was called "After All" and was sung by Peter Cetera. The lyrics to this song make no sense. It's about souls and shadows and forsaking and "the battle within" and the sun and, you know, shining. I think these lyrics were written by the same person responsible for the "plot" for Final Fantasy games. "Hey there butterfly / open up your weary eyes"? And I'm a huge P.M. Dawn and Peter Gabriel fan, so when I say a song doesn't make any sense, you know I mean it. Unforgivable lyric: Pick a verse, any verse. 8. "I Survived You." Oh, is this finally a song I can relate to? Gah. The opening of this song sounds like a commercial bumper for a really boring cable talk show. This is like "No More Sad Songs," but with even less anger and charisma. If their relationship had all the passion Clay manages to call forth in this song, then no wonder she (one assumes) was cheating on him. And I hate these one-sided break-up songs. Everything was the other person's fault. In both break-up songs. I'm sure he had never done a single thing wrong at all. The journalist in me is all, "Uh huh, let's see what she has to say." And she'd be all, "I'm sick of his sanctimonious attitude all the time. And have you seen what he does with his toenails?" I think The Onion actually did a story from the perspective of the woman invoked in a blues song before.
Unforgivable lyric: "But you forgot to dot some 'I's and cross some 'T's along the way. / I'm better now despite you, baby, / I'm stronger these days." I actually groaned, "Oh, God!" out loud at this point. 9. "This Is The Night." This track is identified as a "bonus cut" for reasons unknown to man or God, and since there's three more songs after it, you just have to shrug at the whole affair. I still loathe this song intensely. Sticking it in album full of other mediocre overwrought ballads certainly doesn't help at all. It's just a reminder of how derivative and tiresome all of these songs are. And will he just stop screaming at me? Also, this song sounds the same as "Run to Me." Or the reverse, I guess, since this one came out first. Unforgivable lyric: "I'm not gonna wait when a moment can vanish so fast. / 'Cause every kiss is a kiss you can never get back." Seriously, what the fuck? 10. "Perfect Day." Okay, I've grown to accept that the beginning of each of these songs sounds exactly the same. This is really not a good song. The verses are awkwardly phrased and spaced out. I'm not exactly sure how to describe it because I'm really not a music critic, but the words are stretched in strange places. Yeah, that's really not helpful. The verses just don't connect very well to the chorus. It's like they just needed to have something to fill up space before he can start glory-noting. He shrieks his way through the chorus, which is very derivative of some other song, and I'm sitting here trying to figure out which song it is, but I'm drawing a blank. It's another fake-late-'60s, early-'70s just-before-disco string-heavy sound. I don't hate it, but it's just not very fresh. Unforgivable lyric: "Think I lost you in another life. / A part of me that I left behind." Shudder. 11. "Measure of a Man." Ah, the arrogant-sounding titular track. So tell me, what exactly is the measure of a man? Well, apparently you measure a man by his willingness to do anything to be there for his woman and do anything he can for her. Because, you know, she needs his strength. She needs him to "be her anchor." You know, to keep her from getting the vapors and fainting at the idea of fixing her own problems or doing hard labor, or whatever it is Clay and writers Steve Morales, Cathy Dennis, and David Siege think is beyond the scope of today's woman. I mean, it's not an ill-intentioned song, but consider how it opens:
"If one day you discover him Broken down, he's lost everything. No cars, no fancy clothes to make him who he's not. The woman at his side is all he has got. Why do you ask him move Heaven and Earth, To prove his love has worth? I'm not exactly sure what I'm supposed to make of this song, because who is Clay even singing to? Who is "you"? He goes on to ask whether or not a man's willingness to run through fire and a bunch of other things in order to be there for his woman is how you measure a man. Well, no, it's not, if only because I would hope that men who aren't currently in relationships with women are also expected to be upstanding citizens. I mean, really. And is he being serious or sarcastic? You honestly can't tell from the song. Do I need to point out that these lyrics treat the woman as though she's a thing? He doesn't have any clothes or cars, but he's "got" a woman? And why the hell is this a gender issue? Why doesn't that woman go get a job or move heaven and earth for him? Does too much estrogen keep you from being able to run through fires? Is a woman supposed to aspire to be anything at all or just be supportive? And why would anybody want to be in a relationship with anybody who is apparently constantly demanding proof that you love her? Why would anybody want to be in a relationship with somebody so unstable that she's constantly needing you to be her "anchor"? Yes, I would expect my partner to "stand before [me] / when it's down to the wire," but I would do the same for him. And, you know, try not to be so friggin' helpless. Why is this a measure of a man, and not just a measure of anybody? God, this song is awful. I take back what I said about "Run to Me." This is the worst. I want to gather every woman I know, sit them in an auditorium, play this song for them, then escort Clay, Steve, Cathy, and David in and shut the door. And then run for the hills. Unforgivable lyric: All of them. 12. "Touch." The final song at least starts with a slightly interesting guitar hook. But then Clay ruins it by coming in to sing, "Blue is the ocean in your eyes." Gag. Oh, this song is totally about sex. Do you hear me, Clay! You're singing about having sex! You are! Actually, I don't entirely hate this song, either. It has a simplistic but catchy guitar hook, and it's not entirely overwrought. But it's still very bland and forgettable. And it apparently has only one verse and the chorus repeated seventeen times. Never mind; I hate it now.
Unforgivable lyric: "All I want is your heaven right here by my side." Is "heaven" a euphemism for "vagina"? And that's a look through the whole album. Is it normal for your eardrums to bleed after listening to a single CD three times in a given day? ["THAT'S JUST A SIDE EFFECT OF THE…ER…NOTHING, NEVER MIND. JUST IGNORE IT AND IT WILL STOP IN A FEW MINUTES. AND IF YOU DEVELOP A SUDDEN URGE EAT A PANCREAS, I ASSURE YOU IT'S A PERFECTLY NORMAL DESIRE THAT YOU SHOULD FEEL FREE TO PURSUE. AND THAT GOES FOR THE REST OF YOU AS WELL." -- Tsathoggua]