“An abstract, Frankensteinian conglomeration of pop, R&B, electropop, sprechgesang, and even nondenominational gospel”.
Digital Release: 20 April, 2011
Physical Release: May 30, 2011
It seems to be a recurring trend these days, nay, it definitely is an obligatory requirement these days, for most female artists in the music industry to have that one song in their arsenal that celebrates individuality and being who you are, which incidentally, is the name of Jessie J’s début album.
You could argue though, that her first two singles, the dark, auto-tuned ode to androgyny that was the apparent Rihanna cast-off, ‘Do It Like A Dude’ and the less-inspired ‘Price Tag’ – which seemed all too desperate to please and ended up sounding like a watered down version of Little Jackie’s ‘The World Should Revolve Around Me’ – weren’t really required at all, even if they were meant to introduce the apparently inferred versatility of her musical style.
Nevertheless – and not to be one to rain down on her parade because of her success – Jessie J affirmed her position at the top of the charts with those two lead singles and now, moving onto single number three, we see her delve into even darker aspects of her personality as overtly honest statements and inner frustration flood out of her with the subtlety of Florence Welch giving birth to a rhinoceros.
The over-riding notion in this song is Jessie apologising for letting someone down, and reminding them that nobody’s perfect. She insists once again on playing the humble card, despite her monstrously overpowering voice ringing like bad headache throughout the chorus. The sentiments here come cheap, even if they emerge from arguably more earnest places, and after all the imagery has been stripped away, and you turn down that frenzied wail, you see that ‘Nobody’s Perfect’ sounds far too much like something written for another artist. A lot of her songs are tainted similarly. Yet again, we see no real indication that Jessie J’s musical style can separate her from her peers, despite her eagerness to claim it does. And not forgetting, of course, the fact she stitches elements of almost every possible genre currently dwelling around the highest regions of the chart and mixes them in a large witch’s cauldron to create an abstract, Frankensteinian conglomeration of pop, R&B, electropop, sprechgesang, and even nondenominational gospel. It most certainly overwhelms one’s ability to like her, or appreciate ‘Nobody’s Perfect’ as a sincere plea for forgiveness from a foolish mistake.
It seems that, as honourable as her intentions appear, ‘Nobody’s Perfect’ is a poor quality song with few redeeming factors, except for the minor interjection of accidental humour in the first verse – “Sometimes I just can’t shut the Hell up”, she sings, seemingly oblivious to the thought of doing just that.