Katy Perry – Teenage Dream
Do we blame Russell Brand, Perry’s hirsute sex-addict boyfriend with a funny bone, for this perverse offering? Certainly, it’s coursing with his kind of smut, only it is terribly misguided.
The Californian starlet charmed us one album ago with cutesy bubblegum pop. But Teenage Dream, save for less than a handful of tracks – including the pool-party pop anthem the title track is destined to be – is painfully embarrassing.
“I wanna see your peacock, cock, cock,” she raps in Peacock, where the album takes a raunchy turn that sees it sink into something more like a teenage wet dream – the minx-with-attitude schtick so incredibly transparent.
Sex has safer ground, Perry.
Review: Rebecca Kent