On the strength of a slick sampler download from iTunes, I bought Moby’s new album “Hotel”. Oh dear. (British understatement, that.) Kelefa Sanneh wrote an unsparing review of the album in today’s New York Times: This music isn’t just dull, though. Like much of what Moby has produced since “Play,” it’s condescending, too. Much of it sounds like the work of a producer who thinks pop music is supposed to be kind of idiotic, and who thinks pop audiences should be glad that he deigns to give us what we want. Do we like sex? O.K., here’s “I Like It,” four singularly unpleasant minutes of heavy breathing. Do we like songs about how the world is happy and sad and good and bad? O.K., here’s “Slipping Away,” with a wispy beat and Moby crooning, “Open to everything, happy and sad/Seeing the good when it’s all going . . .” – you can finish the couplets yourself. And, knowing that we like familiarity, Moby has his collaborator, Laura Dawn, sing a slowed-down version of the New Order hit “Temptation.”
Fortunately, my car has a 6-disc CD changer, so it was a matter of a click of a button to get away from this stuff to music with real soul – Final Straw by Snow Patrol, or Sunday 8 PM by Faithless. And now Chris tells me I should pay attention to The Futureheads, and from the videos on the website he’s right. And the Pickle thinks I should dive into the Avenue Q Soundtrack and accept that It Sucks To Be Me and Everyone’s A Little Bit Racist. So much music, so little time.