You know that I’d drink Colton Ford’s bathwater, right? I’d totally go gay for Colton Ford; I sit and write his name over and over onto my Social Studies book. Mrs. Steve Ford Colton and Stevie Ford. When Kitty Kelley writes her unauthorized biography of his life I’ll be the first to egg her well appointed Dallas townhouse. It was with this zest and devotion that I went to buy his new Album Under The Covers. I did read the reviews which were less than favorable. Such as:
“This album is completely unlistenable!”
“An album of complete covers? Seriously? Stick to porn.”
I readily accept that I’m a sixteen year old girl for Colton Ford, so even though I spotted a cover of Lithium by Nirvana I bought the whole damn thing. Yes, the whole album. Including the twenty second long a cappella abortions. I thought I’d do a better review then the anonymous critics on iTunes. But quickly I realized that they were right. That and, after trying to listen to this album, Helen Keller didn’t really have it that bad off. You know how when you bring up Hitler or the Nazis in an argument you’ve lost? Well, that’s the only way I can set the scene for me trying to get through this album. If dance music were Poland, then Colton Ford is goose-stepping across it.
I can now say I have all of Mr. Ford’s music, even if I did delete all but a few songs off of my iPod. I’m not saying not to buy this CD, please do. Rush right out and get it. It may remind you of the whiny-voiced, peroxide-blonde spitfire girlfriend Norma in Victor Victoria, and you can’t pass on the camp value in that. But, most importantly for every song we buy we help pay for his gym membership. And that really is what’s important here.
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