I’m not saying this album has the dumbest title ever, but it’s the dumbest one I can think of right now. Who is this girl? What’s true? And if she already knows it’s true, why tell her? One of those questions is answered within the first few seconds of the album, on that title song; a hip-hop-inspired “love” anthem with rhapsodic drums, melodic synths, a catchy hook and an infectious burping noise panned to the right at every fourth bar.

It’s the best song. The next one, on which the guy reminds the girl not to Forget My Number, is the second best. The two are oddly similar with the same drums, which come back later in another song, and a weird sample (“Eddie”) panned right. Aside from romance, this album is about formula. It’s cliché pop music produced for the mass market with little regard for originality, which is ironic because it’s supposed to be just for the girl.

my rating : 3 of 5

1989