“So what’s she done wrong? Why bother writing at all?” I hear you not ask. Good question.When Katy Perry stormed onto the pop scene in 2008, she was a mix of fifties-inspired fashion and pop-rock guitar hooks, with her moral compass twisted a little towards the cheeky side. She had kissed a girl, and we liked it: Her bubblegum-pink spirit was a hit with the younger listeners and the album was a smash hit on dance floors all across the country.
So naturally when I got my hands on her new album I was excited. My shaking hands readied the CD player: I whipped on my Miniskirt and got my life-sized cut out of Edward Cullen ready to serenade (worrying behaviour for a 22 year-old male perhaps?). With barely controllable anticipation I pressed play with my hairbrush/microphone at the ready, but something was a little different about the Katy I had grown to know and love.
