What with rumoured drug troubles, cancelled concerts and reported marital problems, Whitney Houston hasn't had it easy over the last few years. And, while nobody wants to kick the diva while she's down, 'Love, Whitney' is nothing short of seventy minutes of sheer, sugarcoated hell.
In Eastenders, when some hapless berk or other is desperate to win his girlfriend back, a friend usually says something like "Listen mate, if you want her back right, you've got to pull out all the stops... buy her some flowers and a box of chocolates from the corner shop... I tell you, it never fails."
This sage bar-stool Lothario might as well add "oh yeah, and nip down to Woolies and buy her that new Whitney Houston CD... she'll be putty in your hands mate." For, like red roses and Milk Tray, this sickly selection box of sixteen of Whitter's slushiest, most sentimental, soul-free ballads is a huge romantic cliche of an album.
Fans will have all these tracks already. Indeed, twelve of the songs here were featured on Whitney's last offering - her 2 CD Greatest Hits set back in 2000. What we have then is a smaltzy, slick, overblown, St Valentine's Day stop-gap until Houston's first new studio album since 1998, promised later this year.
Whitney's vocal power and technique are never in question throughout 'Love'. If only she'd cut out the acrobatics and sing a song simply and soulfully. As it is, most tracks here are instantly forgettable, cruise ship/Eighties movie soundtrack style tack. Apart from 'Saving All My Love For You' and Dolly Parton's 'I Will Always Love You' of course, which remain undisputed classics.
