Like A Hangnail
One thing is made very clear during Ms. Lavigne’s latest album Under My Skin – she doesn’t want to talk about it. The exact cause of her angst is never explained, and her attempts at reflection fall flat. Cliché’s run rampant in this album, and the music is too weak to support the awful songwriting.This disc doesn’t aim to do more than appease the pop fan base, which has a habit of quickly moving on to fresh meat. The only song that shows any sign of good production is “My Happy Ending,” on which Lavigne’s vocals are actually complimented by her music. She still succumbs to the tired practice of unending, ever-repeating choruses, but at least this song is tolerable.
In the past Lavigne has been able to create catchy melodies – who can even think the name “Sk8er Boi” without getting it stuck in their head? But this disc is entirely lacking of them. In “How Does It Feel?” little more is said than the repeated song title and a series of “ahh ahhh ahhh”’s.
Throughout the album Lavigne’s lyrics have her looking outward rather than inside for genuine reflection. Though she fails to reach much emotional depth, it is likely a reflection of her age and inexperience. Despite all this, remember that Lavigne writes her own work – even if she does so badly. Considering the current state of young girls’ role models, it’s nice to see an artist who writes her own lyrics and stays relatively clothed at the same time. Though she comes off just as manufactured as the rest, Lavigne is a less bitter flavor of pop tart.