Poor Geri Halliwell. Passion suffers from a severe case of schizophrenia as the former Ginger Spice goes all over the place in her third CD, musically. There’s nothing wrong with that, under normal circumstances, but this isn’t a normal circumstance because these songs are united by one common theme: the sounds coming out from Ms Halliwell’s nostrils that she passes off as her singing on this CD.
Perhaps, when it’s performed by someone who doesn’t sound like she’s suffering from a severe cold while she’s recording in the studio, Let Me Love You More will be a breathtakingly haunting ballad. I really love that song and it kills me to hear it being performed by Ms Halliwell in all her painfully nasal glory. There are some camp anthems like Ride It and Don’t Get Any Better which sees her trying her best to reach out to a pink audience. These songs are, again, aren’t bad at all as they could have been catchy and fun, but once more Ms Halliwell’s attempt to sound like Kylie Minogue with a bullfrog down her throat ruins everything.
But it is after listening to stripped-down ballads where all the inadequacies of her voice are cruelly exposed to the audience that Ms Halliwell’s agenda becomes clear. With songs celebrating her broken hearts, supposedly lonely and barren life, and other jolly fun stuff while accompanied by a piano, Geri Halliwell isn’t just trying to be the new gay icon, she wants to be Judy Garland herself. Yeah, I know, it’s so freaking hilarious.
If she gets to record another CD after this, Ms Halliwell really should stick to simplistic ballads and campy tunes and stay away from songs about her broken heart flying over the rainbow and other rot. She’s not going to marry George Michael or Elton John even if she wants to. Like Paula Abdul would say once upon a time, sometimes all we want to do is to just shut up and dance. Give us that, Ms Halliwell, and you’ll be alright.