Party's over. Middle-finger-raised "So What," the catchy in-your-face No. 1 single from "Funhouse," is pure Pink:
It's a boaster where the toughie brags to her ex-hubby (motocross racer Carey Hart), "I got my rock moves, and I don't want you tonight." She's kidding herself, or in more denial than Tom Cruise, because that badass image we've come to expect from the rebellious tomboy – and which helped to launch her back into the mainstream after a few radio stinkers – are like her clothes: MIA.
"Funhouse," No. 5 in a string of fab stylistically-varied ventures, is her post-divorce catharsis. And the key to Pink's diary.
She's suicidal, but alludes to being such a fuck up that she's worried about screwing that up, too, on Max Martin-produced "It's All Your Fault," a condemnatory rocker like power-pop hit "Who Knew" that accelerates after a delicate keyboard riff. She quasi raps on "Ave Mary A," a confectionary mad-world outcry, on which Pink repeatedly asks, "Where is the light?"
With every bad trip on "Funhouse," you'll be asking yourself the same thing. Second single "Sober," a Danja-produced mellow heartbreaker, is a raw string-laced cut for the lovelorn, and "I Don't Believe You" is a main attraction, exquisitely spotlighting Pink's depth as a sublime vocalist. It's also Pink at her most vulnerable, achingly lamenting her split, making a clever comparison to Hart being the swing set, while she's the kid that falls.
Parting the pop-rock affair is folksy "Crystal Ball," a tender, reflective acoustic guitar ballad co-written with longtime collaborator Billy Mann, where Pink pleasantly dives down into her lower range, and the bluesy "Mean." And it doesn't take a shew stone to know that the faults on "Funhouse" lie within hokey – and sometimes unintentionally laughable – lyricism. Any Magic 8-Ball would tell you: "It is certain." Beyond silly is the what's-supposed-to-be-serious title track, a campy metaphorical cut that uses evil clowns to represent relationship flaws.
Then there's "Glitter in the Air," which actually boasts a pretty piano melody, but totally ignores all-that-glitters-is-gold saying: The lyrics are mushy, juvenile and girly. So un-Pink. And in many other ways, so is "Funhouse" – a record that's not nearly as amusing as her last, but equally as compelling. B
Party pooper
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