"Blow Me (One Last Kiss)" Pink

The case of Pink presents an extremely perplexing pop star profile. She is alternately one of the most successful and least buzzyworthy artists on the planet, racking up a solid, decade-long career of platinum albums and top ten hits without ever igniting a fraction of the excitement or controversy that has surrounded peers like Britney Spears and Lady Gaga. Maybe that's just the way she wants it, but it makes Pink a bit of a boring presence in the pop music landscape. Every so often she delivers a showstopping awards show performance that steals the morning-after chatter and reminds people of her talent and/or her existence (think: the high-flying "Glitter in the Air" at the 2010 Grammys). Mostly, though, her increasingly repetitive pop-rock formula—usually catchy, frequently forgettable, always middle-of-the-road—has turned Pink into a low-key but persistent industry underdog (which has emerged as a recurring theme in her recent work).

That's not to say she hasn't had her moments: Pink's 2001 breakthrough, the six-times platinum Missundaztood, was a work of great resonance and catharsis. There have also been a couple of genuinely beautiful adult pop smashes, including "Who Knew" and "Please Don't Leave Me." And her snarling, anarchic energy on songs like "Trouble" and "U + Ur Hand" is perhaps unmatched by any contemporary female pop singer. But comfort has been the name of the game the last few years, and Pink seems to be stuck in artistic rut, as evidenced by "Blow Me (One Last Kiss)." This lead single from her upcoming sixth studio album, The Truth About Love, sounds...a lot like her last two lead singles—"So What" (from 2008's Funhouse) by way of "Raise Your Glass" (her 2010 greatest hits collection). It's not exactly grand theft melody, but all the familiar elements are there: heavy drums, shout-along chorus, references to her mercurial marriage to BMX racer Carey Hart, and Pink's signature foulmouthed swagger. (Her one concession to the recent dance-pop craze seems to have been replacing that ever-present electric guitar with synths.) Producer Greg Kurstin whips it all into a sufficiently palatable confection, but it feels less exciting than ever. Time for something new. B-