What do you get when you cross a South American belly-dancing firecracker with a leather kecks-wearing angry, yet vulnerable, rock chick? Alanis Morrisette doused in chili sauce? Yes, we all wish that but no. You get 'full of grace' Shakira and her first English-language album 'Laundry Service'.
Shakira, already a massive star in South America is launching her guerilla attack on the rest of the world. 'Laundry Service' is all over the shop - tangy Latino umph, power balladering and retro 80s synth bashing are all represented here with results ranging from corking to minging.
Fronting for the corkers you have 'Underneath Your Clothes' a Jewel-esque ground swelling ode to the life-affirming power gained from the love of a good man (as well as "lamps hanging from the ceiling"). There's also 'Fool' - an Alanis-like rocker about the soul-crushing defeat suffered at the hands of a shitty, self-absorbed man. Together they span the 4-week dysfunctional boyfriend continuum.
However, the top track from the album by miles is the tidal wave of drums-thumping-wild-horses-running single 'Whenever, Wherever'. Despite such bemusement-inducing lyrics as "lucky that my breasts are small and humble so you don't confuse them with mountains", it still manages to make you sit up and fancy the synthetic-fiber trousers off her.
But on the mingers side there's 'Ready for the Good Times' which wouldn't be out of place on the DJ set list of a Butlins disco. Then there's 'Objection (Tango)' which is a hell-hath-no-fury it's-her-or-me steam train boasting the guitar riff from 'Footloose'. And 'Poem to a Horse' (eh?) which could easily be the theme-tune to some dodgy mid-eighties South American youth culture show.
Not totally abandoning her Latino roots, there are Spanish language tracks including a version of the single. These - let's face it - sound great because they're sung in a sexy foreign language.
Shakira is no prefab, ersatz musician. At only 24, this is her third album, self-produced and overseen by Miami Sound Machine's behind the scene puppet-master Emilio Estefan (which may explain some of the naff 80s undertones).
Still, the biggest problem with 'Laundry Service' is the anti-copying device that renders the CD useless in anything other than a conventional CD player - including this writer's computer. A shame then, because this Latino hottie could dilate the musical pupils of even the most ardent homebody if only they could get off the computer long enough to hear it.
