By – DAVIDE LANDOLFI

Translated by – GIORGIA PIZZIGHINI BENELLI

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We were almost expecting that sooner or later Lea MIchele would’ve tried to burst into a pop album (as if she needed to do so), materializing a widespread doubt: can Lea Michele turn into something Rachel Berry-ish? Absolutely NOT.

The oh-so-preppy Glee star, Rachel Berry, wants to climb to the higher summits of human voice, trying to demonstrate something she just doesn’t have, and in so doing failing miserably.

The result is a heap of annoying screams, or even worse, a terrible imitation of popstars who have transformed their powerful voices into iconic brands.

I wonder how Christina Aguilera or Celine Dion felt when they heard this unwanted homage, so ridiculous that is difficult to distinguish a “You’re mine” from the original “Shadow of love” (Cèline Dion).

Lea Michele has gone too far and we can just hope she’ll safely go back to her old habits.

More and more trapped in her character, Louder is in fact Rachel Berry’s debut, so please, let’s call Lea and ask her where is she in this work.

Cannonball, the first, is so commercial and commonplace that should be taken as a hint: stop listening, but with Sia, Michele succeeds in capturing a bit of attention.

Attention which she loses completely with the old dubstep allure of On my way, preparing us for the worse, which will come afterwards.

Almost unobserved is Burn with you, followed by the unexpected Battlefield. Her voice, still too musical to be pop, seems strangely well balanced, without all those fripperies invading the whole album, and the piano makes the song minimal and magical. Moving, felt, Battlefield i the only summit, and unfortunately the only one.

Thousand needles is the classical popo ballad to sing with the hand on heart, and with mascara streaming down lovesick eyes.  A lot of choreography but no essence.

But if the ballads are not convincing, the up-tempos are utterly inadequate. Utterly inadequate is Michele’s voice in songs such as Louder: forced, boring, simply too much.

Cue the rain is obscure: it doesn’t make sense as it rattles, exactly like Don’t let go, mid tempo which winks to the EDM with very poor results.

And when everything is about to tuble down, here she tries again with Empty Handed written by Christina Perri. The level isn’t Battlefield one, but still it’s been a wise decision, to end the album with a last firework. The literal end of the album  If you say so by the duo Lea Michele-Sia Furler, that seems like her last desperate shot to reach a Celine Dion’s level. Her voice doesn’t own charisma.

Analyzing Lea Michele’s position, she could have entered the music scene with almost anything because, thanks to her character, she has strong fanclubs ready to flatter and worship her as a pop queen.

But the truth is different.

The album doesn’t fly, it stays in a boring ‘limbo’, and the constant screaming is unbearable, while the pop try is completely out of place.

Louder isn’t pop, it’s the usual musical belted out in high school’s hallways by an anonymous Rachel Berry.

 

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