Comments:
Fever, the new album from Australian darling, Kylie, has music that reflects the essence of the back cover photo which has her in some strange quasi-karaoke Flashdance revival pose. The beat of a disco tribute is sounded with the remake of Andre True Connection's original 1976 hit, More More More, as the first track.

The flames of Fame were ignited for her as soap opera star in her home down under. She has done very well ever since, turning into a successful Pop Star in the Commonwealth, selling 2 million copies of her latest work worldwide, which is already a double platinum album in the UK.

Yet, this notoriety rides bumpy over this reviewer. I don't see what the fuss is about. Not that her music is any less worthy than the schlock of "music" being released these days, but other than the sexy album cover photo—somnolent blue eyes, the kind of lips you want to nibble on, and her flirtatious quasi-bite of her necklace—what is the big deal?

Her command of voice is not anything spectacular, the lyrics are paltry token lines— which a half-drunk club-goer might find some satisfaction in lip-syncing—and the electronica is sub-par compared to most of the stuff that has been flowing from Ibiza and Paris lounges these days.

Kylie pales in comparison to others who have crossed over from one genre of entertainment to another, such as Gwyneth Paltrow, who shocked me with her genuinely melodious duet with Huey Lewis on the remake of Smokey Robinson's Cruisin'. The jury is still out on how the reverse goes for someone like Britney Spears, and admittedly I've yet to see Mariah's Glitter.

Sorry Kylie but you're no Donna Summer, nor even a feverish Peggy Lee. Don't buy this album—unless you're getting tired of using AOL 7.0 as a coaster.