Thursday, 27 October 2011

Paris Hilton - Paris (2006)

Bitchy, talentless, insincere, superficial, deeply vapid and deeply penetrated, the debut album from Paris Hilton benefits all such truths, and whilst her feelings go no deeper than her vagina, her KY-breath vocals really show off what money can buy.  Scaring the wormy shit out of Jessica Simpson, Haylie Duff, and Ali Lohan, the slut-pop bar was raised to impressive new lows. Like crabs, some of these songs are a bitch to get rid of. Hilton took time out from standing in clubs and 5 years later the world is still in her debt (just look at Greece).




With vocals that sound stickier than cloths found under the beds of teenage boys, Paris manages to be at the centre of a Billy Steinberg ballad that is actually worthy of all his biggest 80s hits.  It's not impossible to imagine Cyndi, The Bangles or even Madonna all having an iconic 80s #1 smash with it.  Oh, the song is called Heartbeat, which she says beats purely for the thrill of hearing her latest jock "cum" whilst sounding like her mouth is full of it.  A delightful image: her designer vagina must spin fluids like a washing machine.  If that doesn't sound delicious enough, the heiress elsewhere sings/opens-her-piehole about more muscle-ripped jocks having sword fights in her gob (maybe the song is in tribute to Veronica Sawyer from the film Heathers?). 
Alcazar famously declined Paris's offer to record a duet called Camel-Toe At The Discotheque 
The Kelly Clarkson climate of the moody Jealousy is almost too deliberate to ring true, but the years that have passed since the tabloid-drama of the singer's fall out with Nicole Ritchie has removed this issue.  Engagingly glum, it is also restraint, and Paris chooses a careful and poised delivery to add just the right amount of disdain.  Having close friends be jealous of you is actually a horrible experience.  Some people just don't want to be helped.  You just need to let go.  How can you stay friends with someone who wants you to be as miserable as they are?  Paris handles the track with atypical class and persuasion of a different kind than her usual references to consistent hotness.  Not so much friends with benefits than friends with hepatitis.
Nothing sluttier on this table anyway.
The euphoric itchiness of Nothing In This World is an unexpected triumph and deserved to be more widespread than a drunk cheerleader in a changing room.  Memorably throwaway, the slickly pseudo-anthemic I Want You soars with the glossy Grease Is The Word siren-led sample, it's playfulness enough to rival Mariah's own 80s-bingeing Loverboy.


Several stand outs appear on the album, but the filler is typical Scott Storch fodder: synths ignite well enough for Turn You On, which is as self-prepping as you can imagine; the sparse opener (or arse opener depending on how you interpret the lyrics) Turn It Up is a whisper-reel for her then-catchphrases such as "I'm hot" and "yeah" (although money can't buy choruses apparently); Fighting Over Me is just a generic hip hop influenced track Paris just happens to breathe on, and she probably gives her chauffeur more consideration.


Initially going by the much better working title of Paris Is Burning, music fans were salivating for her album as far back as 2004 with the Alex G remix of Screwed.  Originally geared up to be recorded by the horrifically sibling-obscured, oblong-faced beauty Hayle Duff, Paris opted for the dryer, credible rock chug option but the Alex G edit remains the song's definitive lubrication.


Not one to turn down cock, Not Leaving Without You is one of the album's peaks.  First single Stars Are Blind is sunkissed and doesn't surrender to her club crusades for rich cock (it's the personality of the cock that counts, duh!).  Thinner than her friendships, her VOICE on Da Ya Think I'm Sexy is relatively sedate and not worth being awake for beyond pointing out how bad it is. Middle of the road-or-rehab trash.


With just enough successes seeping through the music-as-accessory club jams, the debut album from cock-magnet Paris Hilton is far more listenable than haters would think it ought to be.  It's every bit as icky, disinterested and utterly trashtastic as someone like myself wants it to be.  The only time Paris would show emotion would be if her card got declined, Paris - The Album is about feeling good and looking even more expensive.  A once in a lifetime moment in pop.


What's taken more of a beating - the drums or her...
Rating:
8/10

3 comments:

QH said...

Wow, lol. I definitely don't rate Paris, but respect you digging into something that has the barely-there depth of a puddle. I assume she isn't recording a follow-up?-QH

Diva Incarnate said...

She is. It won't have the financial backing though, which means we might be lucky and get some Ibiza music (fingers crossed). I think this album is very strong, thanks to songwriters such as Kara Dioguardo and where it inevitably sags their is the cult of her personality/projected-image to play with, which the Storch songs do fairly well even if they are not quite my thing. Heartbeat is incredibly nice, and Nothing In This World an irresistible pop song. I had fun listening to it so felt compelled to write something.

QH said...

I thought you did a great job, as always with anything you tackle. Intelligent, funny, but you bring across the core of your review well. ;) Thanks for the love on my KM piece.-QH