Pop Clay Aiken Measure of a Man [RCA] Nine months ago, Clay Aiken was an unknown, one of hundreds auditioning for the dubious honor of performing on "American Idol." Nine months from now, he'll likely be looking for work. The obsessions of the American public are that fickle; anyone know what most of the Backstreet Boys are up to these days? "Measure of a Man" is flawed in every way it possibly could be. The concept - a talent contest that yields a record contract and a ready-made star - is abhorrent to anyone who takes music, even pop music, seriously as an art form. And Aiken has about as much personality as a slice of Wonder bread. He sings in tune. And that's about the best that can be said of him. The songs are the final nails in this creepy karaoke confectionary coffin. Aiken, not surprisingly, had no hand in the composition of a single one of them. Instead, we get schlockmeisters like Desmond Child and Aldo Nova, two writers who give new meaning to the term cheesy. The mega-success of this waste of plastic is an embarrassment to artists who struggle in service of a personalized art form. Aiken may be cost-effective, but we'd do well to make sure he stays the exception rather than the rule. - Jeff Miers
Not one of the letters I received challenged my review on musical grounds. All employed either ideological, social or personal criticism to dress me down for dissing the latest of America's sweethearts. This absolutely terrified me - not a particularly challenging task on the best of days, but one even more easily achieved given the sheer emotional heft of these responses.
Oh, I think I'll just listen to MOAM again...It is so lacking in feeling, personality and talent, it can help me get some needed sleep. (Hey, but at least it's in tune, right?)