Bryan Adams
On a Day Like Today

THE REVIEW

Mr. Bryan Adams is one of those characters who, on sites like this one (just a saying: there is no one like DeBaser), are ruthlessly and mercilessly massacred; if you review him, the risk you're running is to end up like Bryan Adams, of course... All this is due to his outdated rocker poses, perpetually in blue jeans and leather jackets, as well as his attitude - the covers of his albums up to "Waking Up The Neighbours" are eloquent - which resembles a somewhat sanitized and teen-friendly version of Bruce Springsteen. Much of this has been contributed to by certain shouted ballads, conceived to break into the hearts of the simplest ones, as well as to be the soundtrack of movies for the masses. There are indeed too many millions, of copies and dollars, that have reached Adams thanks to tracks like the old "Heaven" or the now unbearable "(Everything I Do) I Do It For You" and "Please Forgive Me," as well as the excessive number of collections, compilations, best ofs, and greatest hits that concern him; the artist, after the '80s, has unfortunately invested little and sold too much, without a doubt.

Besides being a billionaire and very famous, his continuous posing as a "romantic with a guitar" has led him to charm the entire planet despite not being exactly the epitome of attractiveness, and nonetheless to have been the occasional lover of Lady Diana Spencer, and to currently be involved with a very famous top model... But while his sexual life and financial situation are at their peak, the same cannot be said for his artistic credibility, but for the theory of communicating vessels somewhere must have run dry, the water!

The album in question comes out at the end of the nineties, after that disgusting fashion-rock hodgepodge contained within the album "18 'Til I Die". This, however, is a serious album, well made, greatly arranged, with maturity and taste. An album not easily attributable to the sycophantic Adams, reeking of rose water, who in the booklets places, under the lyrics, the title of the film in which the track can be heard, of course, while the love scene plays.

Sure, the nightmare of the power ballad is always around the corner (every corner), and right from the first track it comes to haunt us: the opener "How Do Ya Feel Tonight", thank goodness, is saved at the last minute; without betraying himself, and here the ballads are in the majority, he seems to finally tame the usually unstoppable impulse towards a style-less slide. The next track, for example, another big ballad "C'Mon C'Mon C'Mon", even has sonic guitars, very different from those we're accustomed to. There is also a different pace, darker and more substantial, and in many tracks under the classic rhythm marches an acoustic guitar.

The impression is that certain brit-pop of the time may have contaminated the sound of his music. The title track, for example, has passages rich with strings and an acoustic sound that is very "Wonderwall." Even in the opener, come to think of it, there were very Oasis-like guitar passages between the verses. "I'm A Liar" sounds like a British march in the over-calloused hands of a Twin Peaks lumberjack, and the result pleases precisely because Adams seems not to know what to do with such a track and tries to reintegrate it into his standards.

There are two light rock numbers somewhat out of fashion but undoubtedly successful, a series of subdued, very delicate ballads, in which Bryan doesn't shout, in which his voice, still intact despite the years, loses that screamadelic conviction in favor of a conscious (and better?) modulatability, suppleness, persuasiveness; and trash like "Please Forgive Me" is distant in time and mind.

But this is the album of two tracks above all: the delightful "When You're Gone", sung entirely with the playful Sporty Spice, in my opinion, the only happy duet of Adams's career - no offense to Pavarotti rest in peace, Tina Turner, Rod Stewart, and Sting - and the incredibly sweet "Cloud Number Nine", which before DJ Chicane made it a global hit (of decent success even in paradise), was the serenade of this album here, all made of acoustics and simplicity.

Despite the creative droughts, Bryan Adams proved not to be merely a stallion for show, a romantic for desperate housewives, a worthy heir of certain love-rock à la Cliff Richards, but a rediscovered artist and author. Until "The Best Of Me", yet another collection, came out some time later, a compilation that together with old hits (thank god "Please Forgive Me" wasn't there) was to reunite recent tracks, namely the singles from the last two albums plus the unreleased ones from the encountered unplugged album (!), or everything an artist should not have done to maintain their credibility.

I wonder what good it is to take one step forward when you have to take three steps back.