The reviews are in, and it’s not looking good for Katy Perry and her seventh studio album 143<\/i>. As of this posting, the album holds a Metascore of 34<\/b>. Ouch.<\/p>\n
The Los Angeles Times:<\/b> The problem for Perry is that these songs are bad, and not even in a fun way. \u201c143\u201d is an oddly cold dance-pop album with boring melodies, utilitarian grooves and vocal performances that feel vaguely AI-derived; Perry writes and sings with none of the genuine emotional yearning or the sharp sense of humor that defined classics like \u201cCalifornia Gurls\u201d and the title track from \u201cTeenage Dream.\u201d …<\/i><\/p>\n
\u201c143\u2019s\u201d saucelessness is all the sadder given that pop music, after years of gloomy whispering, has finally circled back around to the wit and pageantry of Perry\u2019s glory days. The success of sparkly bops like Carpenter\u2019s \u201cEspresso\u201d and Roan\u2019s \u201cHot to Go!\u201d proves that listeners are hungry for what Perry used to serve up, albeit now on the condition that it contain the kind of endearing quirk \u2014 Carpenter\u2019s daffy neologisms in \u201cEspresso,\u201d for instance \u2014 that Perry seems paradoxically to have avoided in her eagerness to please. \u201cI wanna know the truth, even if it hurts me,\u201d she sings in \u201cTruth,\u201d so here it is: \u201c143\u201d isn\u2019t a failure of circumstance \u2014 it\u2019s a failure of imagination.<\/p>\n
Variety:<\/b> Effectively, \u201c143\u201d strips away the remnants of the perky personality that catapulted Perry into early 2010s superstardom. The album is flat, coasting on cascades of lyrical cliches and musical ideas that rarely crest. Across many of its 11 songs, Perry sounds disaffected and removed, as if she\u2019d just punched in between \u201cAmerican Idol\u201d tapings. Little of the clever wit that emboldened some of her biggest hits peeks out on the album, a disappointing slide away from the savvy she once so effortlessly exuded.<\/i><\/p>\n The Guardian:<\/b> And that\u2019s 143\u2019s big problem. It feels slightly out of time, a common-or-garden mediocre pop album with the misfortune to be scheduled in the wake of Charli xcx\u2019s Brat, Chappell Roan\u2019s The Rise and Fall of a Midwest Princess and Sabrina Carpenter\u2019s Short N\u2019 Sweet, a trio of messily inventive and hugely successful albums that collectively suggest a certain raising of the pop bar has taken place. What would once have sufficed, at least commercially, now won\u2019t: that its author and her team didn\u2019t notice seems far more intrinsic to 143\u2019s downfall than questionable choices of collaborator, misfiring videos or indeed damage to the sand dunes of S\u2019Espalmador.<\/i> \u2605\u2605\u2606\u2606\u2606<\/p>\n All Music:<\/b> Ultimately, Perry\u2019s ongoing fall from grace is solidified on 143 not because she failed to adapt to trends or turn in something as frivolously fun and undeniably catchy as \u201cCalifornia Gurls\u201d 14 years later, but simply because there simply isn\u2019t a lot to like about these songs, and it\u2019s desperately lacking in the kind of lighthearted, sometimes silly, sometimes salacious fun that used to define her stardom. 143 rings the death knell for Perry for no other reason than it commits pop music\u2019s ultimate sin: it\u2019s boring.<\/i><\/p>\n Rolling Stone:<\/b> 143 ends with \u201cWonder,\u201d a high-gloss banger that recalls the most banal 2010s EDM-fest-pop while telling the next generation to shake off the \u201cweight of the world\u201d and stay \u201cwild\u201d and \u201cpure.\u201d \u201cCan somebody promise me our innocence doesn\u2019t get lost in a cynical world?\u201d Perry asks at one point \u2014 a great question to ask in 2024. But coming after the previous 10 tracks\u2019 flop-sweat-flecked effort to crowbar Perry back into the zeitgeist, it sounds utterly hollow \u2014 and including her daughter Daisy on the track, which also happens to be the lone offering without any Luke involvement (it was instead produced by the Norwegian pop architects Stargate), feels more like a deflection against critique than a hope that the next generation will find a way to transcend the present\u2019s muckiest parts. To drive home that point, Daisy gets the last word on the album, asking, \u201csomeday when we\u2019re wiser\/Will our hearts still have that fire?\u201d It\u2019s a pity that Perry doesn\u2019t seem to have asked herself that while putting together this confused attempt to recapture pop listeners\u2019 attention.<\/i> 1 1\/2 star<\/p>\n Slant Magazine:<\/b> Throughout 143, whose default setting is lifeless EDM beats, Perry recruits an eclectic array of guest talent, but most of them turn in half-hearted verses. … But despite those moments, and the album\u2019s generally upbeat vibe, 143 feels surprisingly joyless. Coming from one of pop\u2019s premier hitmakers, who once roared with apparent confidence and invincibility, it shouldn\u2019t be so hard to dig up more gems.<\/i><\/p>\n Clash:<\/b> A brash dose of colour for a drab post-Millennial pop scene, she was the bulldozer through the critics doors. On \u2018143\u2019 however, there\u2019s a feeling that the world has moved on \u2013 with Chappell Roan\u2019s tour sparking Beatlemania-esque scenes of adoration and Sabrina Carpenter maintaining a stranglehold on the charts, you struggle to see where this playful yet unsatisfying record fits into pop\u2019s firmament.<\/i><\/p>\n NME:<\/b> The result is a record that sometimes hits the target but rarely leaves a lasting impression. Pop fans have a fondness for resurrecting \u201cflop\u201d albums that were given short shrift when they first came out: Mariah Carey\u2019s ill-fated soundtrack album \u2018Glitter\u2019 and Christina Aguilera\u2019s sonic hodgepodge \u2018Bionic\u2019 have both become cult classics of sorts. But even this fate seems unlikely for \u2018143\u2019, a serviceable but slightly dull collection on which Perry struggles to relocate her old sense of fun.<\/i> \u2605\u2605\u2606\u2606\u2606<\/p>\n The Independent (UK):<\/b> Everything on 143 \u2013 the number of letters in \u201cI love you\u201d on a pager \u2013 feels painfully dated, steeped in a misunderstanding about the Nineties nostalgia that permeates much of 2020s culture. Most of the songs are driven by house-influenced beats, dragging the record down into a bass-heavy quagmire.<\/i><\/p>\n Sources:<\/b> 1<\/a> | 2<\/a> | 3<\/a> | 4<\/a> | 5<\/a> | 6<\/a> | 7<\/a> | 8<\/a> | 9<\/a> | 10<\/a><\/p>\n<\/div>\n![\"\"](\"https:\/\/i.imgur.com\/HwkoP4d.gif\")
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