Kylie Minogue - Aphrodite
There is so much goodwill aimed in the direction of the Antipodean pop princess, she is permitted to release an average album every so often. And Aphrodite is an extremely average album.
It starts brightly enough with the title single, a dancefloor diva’s bread and butter slathered with cheesy synths and driven by that thumping metronomic beat that has become her signature. They won’t be throwing her out of G.A.Y weeping into her P45 anytime soon.
‘Get Outta My Way’ is a feisty song about a former lover whose attempts to wheedle his way back into her life have been firmly repelled by one of those jerky dance moves, but ‘Put Your Hands Up (If You Feel Love)’ is such a half-hearted attempt to enthuse a crowd, you wonder if she wrote sitting in front of the television in her pyjamas watching Songs of Praise. It’s also one of those songs in which Kylie insists on singing all the vocal parts – a kind of creepy pop tune equivalent of the multiplying Oompa Loompas scene in the remake of Charlie and the Chocolate Factory.
The middle section is completely forgettable, a run of filler songs aimed straight at the dancefloor, each one pinned by that frankly now tedious beat, a relentless reminder that when Kylie can’t really be bothered to come up with a decent tune at least she can dance. It’s not dreadful; it’s just not the inspired, edgy pop we’ve come to expect from Miss Minogue.