“The album that broke my heart”
Epic Records, Release date: 27 May 2008
By Joe DeRosa
Think back for a moment, if you will, to the last time you broke up with someone after being together for a long time. It was sad that someone who once brought so much joy to your life was no longer capable of providing you with those same feelings. That’s how I feel about Cyndi Lauper’s newest release Bring Ya to the Brink. Maybe it’s her attempt to reinvent herself as a dance-floor diva (a la Cher), or maybe it’s the shock of seeing a parental advisory label on her CD. Whatever the reason, listening to Lauper on Brink is kind of like seeing your ex for the first time after a breakup: You want to remember all the good times you’ve shared, but the truth is, it’s just not the same anymore.
Brink opens with the charming acoustic guitar loop of “High and Mighty.” Unfortunately, that charm lasts but a few seconds before giving way to an overproduced dance number with annoyingly repetitive lyrics. As far as production goes, the same can be said for most of the tracks that follow: the outdated, overdone dance tracks overpower most of what is so appealing about Lauper–her voice. Likewise, the songs that do stand out are the less dance-y numbers that spotlight Lauper’s vocals. Songs like “Into the Nightlife,” “Lyfe,” and “Give It Up” come across as being forced, as if Lauper herself doesn’t believe in this new persona she’s trying to exude. “Set Your Heart” isn’t too bad, borrowing heavily from Harold Melvin & the Blue Notes’ “Where Are All My Friends.” But what positive can I say about “Same Ol’ Story” in which Lauper drops the F-bomb about a thousand times over yet another excessive-sounding dance track. There are a few highlights on Brink–“Echo” shows how Lauper’s vocals could have been coupled with modern dance beats to a more likable effect. And Brink closes with its two best tracks, “Grab Ahold” and “Rain on Me,” in which Lauper’s familiar vocal styling finally breaks free from all the gimmicky techno beats that make up most of the album.
Now let’s get this straight for all of you who think I’m just a Lauper hater. I was 9 years old back in 1984 when I suddenly found myself strangely attracted to the crazy red-headed girl bouncing about on my TV screen, and I’ve been a fan ever since. I have seen Cyndi in concert and even had the distinct pleasure of meeting her in NYC on a night when we both attended the same off Broadway play (not together). So let it be said, I love Cyndi Lauper. But I do not love Brink. I forgave her for At Last (2003), an album of song-book standards, mainly because it wasn’t too bad, and besides, it seemed to be the thing to do at the time. I was even okay with 2005’s The Body Acoustic, an album of reinterpretations of her previous hits, many of which were reinvented as duets. But Brink is just not for me. Cyndi has never been overly prolific, releasing only six full-length albums worth of original material in her 24-year career. But it’s surprising to me to see Lauper, now 54, who was once considered so unique and so original, struggling with her identity in the twilight of her career. I may never get back the Cyndi I knew and loved in the ’80s, so for now I must accept what I’ve got, even if Brink does feel like going for coffee with my ex: There are parts I still care for, but as a whole, it’s just not enough to make me fall in love again.