Please don’t judge. It’s not my fault.
Forget hysteria; this one is too sedate to generate any excitement.
She’s having fun indulging in her own nonsense, but good for her for sharing that fun all around.
Come gaze at the imprint of the artist’s navel on every song. She’s losing the plot…
He sound like the creepy bastard child of John Mayer and that Five for Fighting guy, Nice.
Alaska Thunderfuck, glamtron alien, versus Alaska, the comedy queen turned AAA Girl. Who will emerge the victor?
Haven’t I heard this album before? Twice?
Another one with an album. These queens are just brimming with musical dreams or what?
The ugliest man in music (after Bruno Mars) wants you to know that he knows how much you want him.
How many albums down already? She’s still consistently going, bless her.
It took a boatload of producers, but the old Madonna is back. Well, sort of.
Eek, why is this poor kid turning into Clay Aiken? Stop, make it stop!
It loses a lot of cool points for leaving out Go Down Singing, the Tumblr anthem of the 2010s.
After four years, Michael W Smith comes back to sound just like he’s always done before.
She sounds like a goat, oh dear. Can’t the studio people do something?
Why do these brats make growing up sound even more boring than it already is?
She sleeps with daddies from the playground and gets depressed at sex clubs. Tove Lo, ladies and gentlemen.
Taylor Swift finally embraces pop in what is most likely her most calculated album ever.
He wants to cover every inch of my body with his autograph. I hope he dots every i carefully. Wait, did I say that out loud?
Oh no, this is a new album from Ne-Yo, and nobody – NOBODY – is going to tell me otherwise.