When there are visitors in my house, I want to show them I have a mediocum of good taste by playing reliable Mozart. When there’s no one else around, I put Enrique Iglesias on and blush in shame as he makes me feel the tingly mojo of his overwrought, shameless romanticism.
Quizás is his latest Spanish CD. When I see this at the local CD store, I look around and quickly push it deep into the recesses of my CD bag. I quickly run home, put the CD on eagerly, and sigh in disappointment.
They’re all ballads. Sweet, sickly mealy-mouthed ballads of the middling sort. Maybe he’s trying to overcompensate for his bald patch, but Mr Iglesias here has filled this album with ballads that range from forgettable to passable. The exception is Pieso En Tí, a midtempo ballad that actually seems to have some life behind it.
Everything else is muzak of the most forgettable sort. Bleh and bleach all at once.