IoS album review: Tulisa, The Female Boss (Island)
Your support helps us to tell the story
From reproductive rights to climate change to Big Tech, The Independent is on the ground when the story is developing. Whether it's investigating the financials of Elon Musk's pro-Trump PAC or producing our latest documentary, 'The A Word', which shines a light on the American women fighting for reproductive rights, we know how important it is to parse out the facts from the messaging.
At such a critical moment in US history, we need reporters on the ground. Your donation allows us to keep sending journalists to speak to both sides of the story.
The Independent is trusted by Americans across the entire political spectrum. And unlike many other quality news outlets, we choose not to lock Americans out of our reporting and analysis with paywalls. We believe quality journalism should be available to everyone, paid for by those who can afford it.
Your support makes all the difference.The public image of Tulisa Contostavlos has taken a battering over the past year, her positive approval ratings diminished by factors both beyond her control (the leaked sex tape), and very much within it (the tacky tattoo she flashed to pimp her perfume on The X Factor).
The Female Boss takes her back to the day job, and not before time. For someone whose forename starts with a T, and whose surname contains two, it’s weird that Tulisa can’t pronounce that letter in speech: “There is an inner beau’y abou’ a woman who believes in herself”, she glottally intones on this album’s spoken-word intro. But maybe there’s method in her Madness-like accent.
The apparent intention, on tracks such as “British Swag” and others, is to launch Tulisa as a star in America, making a novelty feature of her UK provenance and Camden diction. Like most pop albums, it’s front-loaded. The banging club tunes, like the chart-topping “Young” are at the start, then it slumps into a series of obligatory ballads on which her unremarkable voice is somewhat stretched.
If you last the distance, there’s a pseudo-philosophical outro to rival the intro. Roll over, Heidegger, and tell Kierkegaard the news; there’s a new kid in town.
Join our commenting forum
Join thought-provoking conversations, follow other Independent readers and see their replies
Comments