People around the world grow up learning not to judge a book by its cover. While that advice may be wise when applied to actual literature or social skills, Jessica Simpson’s new country album, Do You Know, is somehow immune. Everything you need to know about Simpson’s album is printed quite plainly on the front sleeve.
Nevertheless, the album deserves, at the very least, an explanation for my brutal judgment of its cover as a representation of the whole. Quite simply, the cover is boring and completely void of creativity. It’s nothing more than a portrait of Miss Simpson sitting on a bench, something I could have snapped with my digital camera behind one of the Lawn pavilions. Simpson does nothing but sit and part her lips, trying the same “sexy yet innocent” ploy that she’s used on every studio album cover since 1999. The primary strategy of this photo is to call attention to buyers by saying, “Hey, check it out — this girl is hot,” as if hotness had some mysterious correlation with good musicianship.
Likewise, Simpson’s album is a 45-minute yawn-jerker. Again, out of fairness, I will admit that I’m automatically predisposed against country music. Then again, that’s not because I haven’t given it a chance. I spent at least three years of my childhood listening to country with my parents — quite enough time to figure out that it all sounds the same.
Before I get assaulted by some straw hat-wearing, tobacco-chewing, hard core country fan, give me a chance to explain my theory. Country “artists” all the sound the same because they are incapable of developing their own style and sound when they take virtually no part in writing their own music (with some notable exceptions — I say “virtually” because, as in the case of Simpson’s Do You Know, singers occasionally co-write their songs — they sit in a studio with songwriters and occasionally nod their heads in agreement.)
Even so, you would think that such a plethora of available songwriters would encourage more of a variety in songs. As demonstrated by Simpson’s album, however, this is not the case. One song practically bleeds into another — but not in the intentional Abbey Road kind of way. With the Internet to keep me awake while listening to the album, I often found myself wondering how many songs had passed. Other times, notably during the track “When I Loved You Like That,” I amused myself by guessing the next chord in the song – and nine times out of 10, I was right. It took four writers, including Simpson, to come up with this song.
Sadly, even the content of the songs in the album isn’t very surprising. Perhaps in a last-ditch effort to secure her position as a bona fide country singer, Simpson just couldn’t help but include a song about domestic abuse. Congratulations, Miss Simpson — you’re almost there! But where are your songs about homeless people and cancer patients? No good country album is complete without these.
In short, Simpson’s attempt at country music is simply generic. While she admittedly does have good (even if not particularly distinctive) vocals, the fact that her voice is her only asset causes her to overuse it. The songs are made up of such an incessant string of high notes that by the final song, you feel like you’ve spent the past 45 minutes listening to wailing. Even the smallest trace of Dolly Parton’s vocals in the title track, the last on the album (which Parton both wrote and accompanied), is like a breath of fresh air.
Overall, while not particularly painful to listen to (unless, like me, you’re tired and won’t let yourself sleep until you’ve heard it the whole way through), the album is boring — just like its cover. If you’re still not convinced (or perhaps a Simpson fan), let me put this in the simplest terms possible — Don’t buy this album. While it’s not painful enough for use during terrorist interrogations (Yoko Ono, anyone?), it’s not worth your money either.
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