Frankly, had you told me that I would ever say this, I would never have believed you: I have to revise my opinion on Beyoncé.
There now. It is said. Feel free to lie down and recover.
What happened? We watched Cadillac Records (on Netflix), in which Ms Knowles portrays the late, great Etta James. We checked the soundtrack and Beyoncé did of course do her own singing. The thing is… she can actually sing. There is only one Etta James of course, but Beyoncé managed a fair imitation and can belt out a blues song well indeed.
The thing is… if she can sing a decent song and do it like that, why does she churn out such pap as she does? Not only pap, but dangerous undermining pap… ( I don’t recommend playing this video – it’s just here to illustrate my point.)
FFS – did the 60s and 70s never happen. What did we women fight for – the right to indoctrinate young girls into the idea that the be all and end all is to get a ring on their finger? It’s a betrayal. I loathe this record and this porno video for oh-so-many reasons. Hugely distasteful. Frankly, I would rather go blind than be forced to watch that display again (I found it when working on a puzzle hunt recently) … and why, oh why, does she build a career based on flaunting her body instead of her voice – which is surprisingly more than capable and will after all be longer-lasting. She’s working the wrong assets.
Compare and contrast
and for the sake of completeness, here is the version that I grew up on
Chicken Shack with Christine McVie, when she was Perfect. That’s not Peter Green on guitar, though you might think so, but Stan Webb.
I think I may have to dig out more Chicken Shack this afternoon, but not until I put away my Approved Foods parcel aka our Red Cross Package. Chocolate supplies have been replenished – yay!