Rihanna
Good Girl Gone Bad

THE REVIEW

Thanks to the endless paths of mass communication, we can learn almost instantaneously about what happens in every corner of the globe, even the most remote ones like the beautiful Barbados Islands, the homeland of the new "star" of world pop... no, I'm not kidding, she has been defined exactly like this and is behaving as such... of course, everyone will understand that we are talking about Rihanna. I tried in every way not to let myself be swept away by the urge to write tons of crap about the dear young girl, but I just couldn't manage... I hope to be forgiven.

After a practically useless album ("A Girl Like Me") in which everything could be found, from a grotesque song-quote of "Personal Jesus" by Depeche Mode, to an enticing dancefloor song like "S.O.S", the banality and ugliness of which made you shiver right after being struck by the very sexy video, we are now left with this "Good Girl Gone Bad" (although I tend to doubt that the most appropriate title for J-Z's blazing new protégé would be "Good Girl Gone Bed"). Let's get it out of the way and say it bluntly, the album is empty, empty, empty. After all, Rihanna doesn't have the depth of the talented Amy Winehouse or the angelic-furious-seductive voice of Alicia Keys and tries to defend herself as best she can, which is by using the only thing she can really rely on: her beauty. Here she is then, rolling on the hoods of powerful luxury cars in "Shut Up And Drive", a fake rock song that, although the video shows two guitars and a bass, is entirely electronically produced... stuff that not even Avril Lavigne would...

Why stay silent about the damn annoying hit "Umbrella", a song that can easily be considered the track with the worst and most useless lyrics on Earth? While pretending to be under an open umbrella, the girl sings to the notes of music that should highlight her warbles but instead only brings back a sense of fakeness, much like Dave Grohl’s wig complete with braids in "Learn To Fly" did. Not to mention, the latest single, the already overly heard "Don't Stop The Music" (what clever and thoughtful titles! My God, I feel bad from the excessive cerebral effort...). Recalling the success achieved with her first hit "Pon The Replay", the beautiful Barbadian repeats herself with a title halfway between '70s disco and the deepest tackiness, obviously leaning more towards the latter model. When halfway through the chorus you hear "...don't stop the music DJ let it play..." it makes you want to beat the crap out of that DJ who, apparently, caused her a great shock by stopping the music, forcing us, poor wretches, to endure the insipid howls of this young girl.

In conclusion, the album is crap, no mincing words. Commercial and constructed like not even Take That ever dared, it infuriates any respectable music enthusiast. Moreover, you can hardly take seriously someone who tries to be sexy with hair that would appall even Goku and Vegeta.