I’ve been dreading an album like this to come along. It’s easy to sing praise for a release that pleasantly surprised you, and it can be equally as easy to trash something that is fundamentally flawed or just plain awful. The difficulty arises when everything seems to be calculated perfectly for a very specific audience. That very specific audience couldn’t be farther from my tastes. Texas’ The Conversation makes me want to shoot myself.
If it weren’t produced so immaculately, these songs could be found playing on the radio of a vintage car in a classic movie. The radio station wouldn’t be the one playing the classics people remember, however, no, it would be playing all the forgotten songs of days gone by. You know, the ones people tried to forget. You may have pictured a ’50’s era Chevy playing the tinny radio tinted songs cinematically in my metaphor, but the truth is Texas spans many decades. Many decades of genres in their lowest form made to order for their era’s respective top 40 (or more aptly, the bottom of the top 40).
Halfway through writing this review and listening to The Conversation, I’ve changed my mind. I’m no longer struggling to criticize this in the face of its competence, rather, I’m struggling to understand who in 2013 actually gives a fuck about this music. It’s so mediocre that it shatters the notion of being average and falls down into being completely aggravating. With each carefully crafted turd that rings out, my blood starts to boil a little bit more. I should give Texas accolades for affecting me in such a way, but I wont.
If you don’t care too much about music and/or have some nostalgic attachment to Texas’ heyday, you’ll probably gobble this up and choke on the bones. The rest of humanity would do well to avoid The Conversation though I doubt anyone besides Texas fans even know it exists.