In 2008, Katy Perry exploded onto the Top 40 world of pop princesses and glittery synthesizers with her first full studio release, “One of the Boys.” The pounding, irresistible lyrics of “I Kissed a Girl” made her a pop idol willing to talk about sexuality in provocative ways dissimilar from the Britneys and Christinas who came before her.
With May’s “California Gurls,” the first single off “Teenage Dream,” Perry pushed more towards bubble gum pop — with an accompanying video so drenched in inventive colors and art direction it can only be read as a comment on its own excess.
It’s no secret she’s in a field that’s suddenly become super-saturated — the titanic ascendancy of Lady GaGa and Ke$ha are just two in the most recent line of female goddesses dying to create party anthems about men, drinks and their own brand of female empowerment.
Her sophomore effort, “Teenage Dream,” clearly puts Perry within her genre without singularly distinguishing her. Her cadenced verse and simple choruses seem to borrow a hand from Ke$ha, while she retains the sultry fire that lit up “One of the Boys” on at least a few of the songs.
While lacking the tightly wound production of Lady GaGa, Perry uses “Teenage Dream” as a way to try and carve her place as a jewel of the Top 40 radio waves and, surprisingly, a singer who actually wants to put some emotion beneath those lyrics and beats.
The title track is the best merger of these divergent themes, a riff on adolescent love built on a smooth combo of guitar and electronic beats that complements the way her voice ducks in and out of electronic aid.
The album is best in its first half, when Perry gives over to the kind of shtick that made her a certifiable hit (and also despised by plenty who see her as the epitome of what’s wrong with music). Songs like “Last Friday Night (T.G.I.F.)” are loaded with superficial party lyrics and equally superficial music. It even has a random sax break.
But to call “Teenage Dream” a wholly competent piece of evolution would be a dramatic stretch. The problem with Katy Perry 2.0 is that there’s nothing audacious, nothing to set her apart. The farthest departure she conjures comes in album-closing “Not Like the Movies,” a piano-driven piece that’s simply the thematic antithesis of the titular single.
“I Kissed a Girl” was like a mini-shockwave in that it provoked people to think about its underlying sexual politics, and whether her faux-bisexuality was something worth lauding or just a silly gimmick.
“Teenage Dream” lacks a similar verve, with only the aforementioned “Last Friday Night” or perhaps the wailing chorus on “E.T.” having any kind of playfulness.
Songs like “Firework” and “Peacock” feel direly repetitive in their plea for the listener to dance to them, while “Who Am I Living For?” and “Pearl” try to be serious and simply feel out of place.
Had Perry turned more toward collaboration, like the great little gem of Snoop Dogg’s verse on “California Gurls,” or tried to critique her sound in a more original way, the whole thing wouldn’t feel so Lady GaGa-Lite.
“Teenage Dream” will satisfy Katy Perry fans looking for a jolt of sugar-loaded musical Pop-Tarts in spades. It succeeds at re-emulating what made her popular without distinguishing her from the crowd. She’s simply starting to sound more and more like everyone else.