Aside from the titular single, I haven't heard a lick of this damn album. But from the cover I can tell I hate it. Prominent in the foreground is Robin Thicke looking pensive or perhaps constipated. Mysteriously enough, this is the face that somehow launched a career proving that despite facial deformity, nearly anyone can aspire to super-stardom. As is typical with this sort of music, Robin Thicke is prominent on the cover. Not once, not twice, but thrice. There is a special sort of egomania with this sort of thing. Typically you get only one image of the artist, however Thicke sets himself apart from the pack with 3 sets of doe-eyes sadly looking around. What have you lost, Robin Thicke? Perhaps it is your dignity. The colour palette is also telling. A bold red-white-blue combination can only be described as jingoism. "For the last time, I'm American." Says Thicke with this cover, denying his Canadian heritage. If I were a better man, I would say that the background is an homage to early 80s New York hip hop with its mishmash of graffiti tags sprayed over one another. However I am not and will say it looks an atrocious mess. Allow me to state my appreciation of the font used on this particular album cover. Subtly, it reflects the Studio 54 excess of Robin Thicke. Though I have not lived through the seventies, I feel as reading this font has helped me understand what it was like to have Barry Gibb of the Bee Gees whip me across the throat with a hose. "Please, no pictures." I remark to the paparazzi as I place my gold framed aviators on my face. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yyDUC1LUXSU The final piece of the puzzle would be the "PARENTAL ADVISORY, EXPLICIT LYRICS" stamp in the bottom left corner. For as we all know, this would not signify the terrifying lyrics of "Blurred Lines" but naughty words that my editor refuses to let me print. This lets the parents, as well as the children know, that Robin Thicke is a predator, not to be trusted by man nor animal. As my good friend JokeAppreciator says, "Robin Thicke looks like a Las Vegas barman who keeps trying to sell you 'really good' coke for cheap." Personally I feel that is an adequate way to sum up this album. I keep looking for a satisfying musical experience in this album cover, but have found nothing. I am trapped within a darkened place, shackled to the walls. I look for escape but they are spray painted with the ghostly visage of Robin Thicke. Album Rating: For Moms Only
Aaron J. Marko is a literary magnate living in Canada. He is currently working on The Great American Novel about teenage orange salesmen in California. Do not add me to Google+. You will regret it. Available for birthday parties and bar mitzvahs.