Sexy Newton-John bombs
Soul Kiss Olivia Newton-John MCA Records
Zazzzz. This album is so dull even God would consider dozing through it.
Olivia Newton-John knows that sex sells and the cover of her new LP Soul Kiss proves it. Unfortunately, from the sound of it, she should have paid much more attention to her music and less to her wardrobe, what little there is of it.
None of the tracks is worth remembering. With a decent mixer al the control board, some of them could be blended into one big song for the convenience of skipping them all at once.
Old Newton-John fans will remember well the clarity with which she sang the lovely “I Honestly Love You”. On this album she risks hyperventilation by pouring air from full lungs across her vocal chords to achieve a whispery effect when we all know damn well she can hit those notes with an on-key distinction comparable even to Barbara Streisand.
Jazz guitarist Lee Ritenour is featured in seven of the 10 cuts, but you wouldn’t realize that unless you read the liner notes. His talent is drowned in the meandering melodies that always seem to end in pretty much the same place they began.
Three songs have possible futures as single releases. “Emotional Tangle” is a slower tune, which seems well suited for Newton-John. It’s also one of the few songs on Soul Kiss that actually allows the notes to go where the measures seem to lead, rather than forcing them back into a no-risk monotonous muddle.
Side B might spur some optimism in more persistent listeners by beginning with the catchy “Moth to a Flame. Hope for a better half dissolves when she giggles a Madonna like laugh in the middle of the song and the sex symbol facade rears its tacky head again.
Although the title of her duet with Beach Boy Carl Wilson is laughable, “You Were Great, How Was I” is still one of the album’s better cuts, with Carlos Vega on repetitive drums.
The main problem with Soul Kiss is that Olivia is obviously trying too hard. It’s one of those albums that gets buried in the back of your record collection and upon resurfacing years later is met with the owner’s sheepish grin and a mumbled “It was just a stage I went through.”
By Lyn Carlisle Assistant Arts Editor