Or “Glow,” which uses its title as code for the feeling during or after great sex, in addition to cleverly flipping the “my friends say you’re no good for me” trope. Her vocals are understated, often deadpan, and in this she seems to predict vocalists like Rihanna and Lady Gaga who make the most out of a limited palate.Anyone who’s ever had their world completely rocked by another person – or fantasized about it – can find something to enjoy here. Her high notes seem to have influenced Grimes; they share an ability to propel their voice into areas that are almost uncanny.that she and Timbalandare discussing the possibility of starting a rock band together.She says that they'll likely opt for something a bit weirder than your average, straight-ahead guitar pop project.
But she doesn’t feel like she’s in over her head here, and her effortlessness and comfort suggests that this was something she wanted from the get-go and just got the OK from Timbaland. Either way, this stands as one of the most artful recent mainstream symbioses between vocalist and producer and one of the great gems of 2000s pop.Take “Do It,” which inflates the physical feeling of sex to the operatic scale generally reserved for matters of the heart like crushes and breakups (“just a little touch has got me seeing things” – wow, I’d like to meet this guy).Or “Promiscuous,” where Furtado and Timbaland affectionately (and respectfully) play ping-pong with a loaded term too often used to slut-shame.It was somewhat of an odd move -- essentially mortgaging her future by hooking up with Timbaland to embark on a journey aimed at capitalizing more on sexuality than purity. " rung through the popular music-buying public's lexicon as the oh-so-fine line between naming something "Turn Off The Light" and naming something "Promiscuous" was crossed, and the same listeners who once lauded the singer for her original blend of worldly pop-hop immediately cried foul, exiling Furtado to full-blown Pop Land, a country infamous for chewing up and spitting out artists quicker than Hip Land, an equally-as-fickle corridor.And now, we have this, The Spirit Indestructible, a 12-song collection (18, if you want to go deluxe) of blatantly accessible dance pop that is precisely as far from the Whoa, Nelly! It's not all bad, of course -- if you prefer your sugar with a side of C-rate bounce, there are things here with which you most certainly could spend your Saturday nights -- though the issue at hand proves to run far deeper than some failed pop music experiments.