Christina Aguilera: Lotus
I remember the last time I reviewed a Christina Aguilera album. The year was 2006, and life was great.
No-one cared about the deficit, no-one was complaining about bankers being greedy and no-one thought Christina Aguilera was fat.
How much has changed in six years.
Back in ’06, I was a lowly freelance music journalist living in a tiny shed. Now, I’m a Barclaycard Mercury Music Prize judge living in a fucking huge shed.
But those six years haven’t been kind to everyone.
Thanks to the recklessness of RBS and Lloyds TSB, good honest banks like Barclays have unfairly suffered.
Profits have plummeted from £7billion to £6billion, and now everyone’s saying there needs to be more banking regulation. But how is that supposed to help Barclays make money?
Christina knows what I’m talking about. You can tell she thinks red tape is stifling to growth on her new album, Lotus. Tracks such as Red Hot Kinda Love and Let There Be Love simply scream Laissez-faire economics.
The pop diva has had a hard six years herself. In ’06, she’d never have been accused of going under the knife, lip-synching or rigging Californian electricity markets.
Everyone just looked at Christina’s perfect body and agreed it was a fine, unenhanced example of the female form.
Now, well, apparently she’s a big fat cheating bitch. But has she really changed, was she always a cheat, or has the media just decided to tarnish Christina’s name because they’re jealous of her success?
Leveson will sort those hacks out. I know he will. He told me so while I was sucking his dick last night.