I’m going to go out on a limb and guess that you, dear reader, are probably not in the Josh Groban demographic. I’m not exactly sure what the Josh Groban demographic is, but I’m almost certain it doesn’t involve reading blogs, or knowing what they are. My guess is that Josh Groban fans stick to the Missing Child Prayer Alert/My Google Won’t Download corners of the web. I’m not in his demographic either, but for some reason I find Josh Groban fascinating.
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He’s a man of contradictions. Actually, just one contradiction: his music, in the jargon of serious criticism, sucks. It sucks in the plainest and most classic way; it Michael Bolton sucks; it Celine Dion sucks. It’s almost adorable that something could still suck so quaintly in the 21st century. On the other hand, he seems like a genuinely cool, funny, self-aware and handsome guy. It’s tough to reconcile, like when MTV would do specials where they rode around in Blink 182’s van: at first you think, Wow, I could totally hang out with these hombres, but then they play a clip of their music and you remember why you’ve been calling in bomb threats to all their concerts.
There must be some good reason for it. Groban is with-it enough that he ought to be able to listen to “You Raise Me Up” and go, “Hey, my song huffs mad doo,” but still he persists in lame-o schlock for boring people. I don’t know why. Maybe he thinks he’s typecast by his bellowing voice and loveable face, or maybe he’s just a super good grandson and he wants to make nice songs that his family can be proud of at Christmastime. My best guess is that he’s got his niche, he makes his money, and he goes home and listens to Einstürzende Neubauten.
Considering all my Groban ambivalence, I’ll try to be fair in my review of his new single, “Brave,” from his upcoming album All That Echoes (grammar watch, homie: should be All Those Echoes). It would be easy enough to kick around the square-ass popera dweeb song from my lofty perch in the hep bloggo catbird, but I’ll focus on the positive.
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