Jessica Simpson

Jessica Simpson

In This Skin


Oh. Dear. God. From now on I’ve got to rein in my tendency to give in to ironic temptation as far my album reviews are concerned. Sure, it’s fun to smirk when I tell my friends that I’m going to review Jessica Simpson’s new album, but the reality that I actually have to listen intently to such trash escapes me when I’m requesting my discs. *Shudder* Perhaps after this experience I’ll have learned my lesson.

In This Skin begins with a song from the same brain that shat “Don’t Want to Miss a Thing” across the entire radio spectrum a few years back. “Sweetest Sin” is a little more risqué, and ends up being a good old-fashioned ode to frottage (look it up, perv) and isn’t as appallingly insulting as Aerosmith’s final credibility coffin nail.

“With You” is the inoffensive, epileptic dance song that blends in with all of the rest of the hit radio station wallpaper. You’ve probably heard it now fifty times and forgotten it ten seconds later each time. The overwhelming “Love, your lovely love lets my love love you” vibe on the majority of this album could not be less affected or more emotionally vapid. It’s one thing to bring nothing to the table, it’s quite another to make me completely fucking hate the table. Jessica Simpson has managed to do both. How lovely.

Columbia Records:

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