Shit-stupid pop music is a palate cleanser: after listening to challenging sounds by talented people, sometimes it’s nice to bliss out in the land of the brain-dead, where JC Chasez dwells. He’s trying to ride the coattails of fellow ‘N Sync refugee Justin Timberlake, despite a charisma deficit and the fact that his debut, Schizophrenic (Jive), came out in February, more than a year after Justified. The album is 15 more tracks of sleazy crooning meant to moisten the ladies’ panties, and the lyrics will no doubt scandalize his young fans (or at least their parents). When he’s not being coy, using all-purpose double entendres like “coming,” he’s talking straight up about doing it, with girls or with his own hand. “All Day Long I Dream About Sex” (not a Korn cover, for better or for worse) is the most blatant: he spends practically half the tune chanting the title, backed by what sounds like a sub-Kraftwerk electro version of a sub-Abba disco groove and a painfully, hilariously dated B-boy beat. Chasez’s willingness to humiliate himself by bastardizing the styles of better musicians is almost inspiring–he segues smoothly and shamelessly between cut-rate imitations of Grandmaster Flash, Jamiroquai, Michael Jackson, Corey Hart, and Donna Summer, to name just a few. He’s one of those not-quite pop stars you can easily picture five years from now, sitting in a shitty prefab house in leopard-print skivvies with a pile of coke on the coffee table and a heifer with fake tits cooing in his ear: Don’t worry baby, your next album is gonna take off. But for the rest of Chasez’s 15 seconds in the spotlight, I’m just going to close my eyes and let him take a sweet dump in my ears. Early show: all-ages. Late show: 18+. Friday, May 7, 6 and 10:45 PM, House of Blues, 329 N. Dearborn; 312-923-2000 or 312-559-1212.
Art accompanying story in printed newspaper (not available in this archive): photo/Mark Ellen Mathews.