Wiem, że mamy tutaj wielu fanów tego albumu.New York Daily News review from Nov. 1st, 1992 written by Jim Farber.
And the Bland Played On - Jim Farber for the New York Daily News - November 1st, 1992
Bon Jovi - Keep the Faith - Polygram - 0 stars
Oh Joy! The return of Bon Jovi! Just when you feared pop was getting too interesting, what with the assent of all that alternative and hip-hop music, Bon Jovi scrambles back after a four-year absence to prove there's still a place on the charts for soulless corporate swill.
And who better to telegraph this message than the Jovis? After all, the saddest - and the most astonishing - thing about this group has long been its ability to appear absolutely honest about the drivel it hacks out. It's as if they somehow managed to glide through thier entire lives without having a single insightful or troubling thought in thier heads, so that to them, this bald view of life is real. No wonder observers have long whispered that the Jovis are not people at all but rather body-snatched pods.
For just that reason, Bon Jovi is singularly qualified to have titled an album as arrestingly terrible as this one, "Keep the Faith." Who else could deliver such shallowness with such conviction?
Matter of fact, the new album calls for a significantly deepened commitment to vapidity. No longer content simply to clock-punch no-brain hand-me-downs like "Livin' on a Prayer" or "You Give Love a Bad Name" and eager to approximate growth after the long time away, the band here tackles "big subjects." Faith, hope, even death turn up. Yes folks, it's finally happened; Bon Jovi has gone existential.
Then again, this move is not without marketing savvy. With Springsteen de-mythlogizing himself adn U2 trying to pretend they have a sense of humor, who's left to act self-important?
No wonder Bon Jovi's fifith album is filled with the kind of pseudo-soaring doubled-timed guitars you'd expect from U2's The Edge (if only he couldn't play so well) and the sort of stadium-rattling drum volleys you'd hear from Max Weinberg (with one arm tied behind his back). Prime evidence is the opening track, "I Believe" which strikes a witless balance between "Born in the USA, " "Pride (In the Name of Love)" and , in case that's not enough, "Baba O'Riley." Equally bloated is the title track, with Jon mewling in a voice suggesting a tubercular Bruce Springsteen.
Again Jon proves himself every bit as overwrought a singer as Michael Bolton. The result is particularly gross in the sweepingly bad "Dry County" which revives the Western-motif calendar art from Jon's "Blaze of Glory"
Things get even scarier when Jon reaches for "art" in his lyrics. In "Bed of Roses" he stretches, only to wind up with lines as ungainly as "I wake up and french kiss the morning." HIs most potentially interesting reach, "If I Was Your Mother" rips off Mott the Hopple. Worse, Jon was clearly so nervous about the gender subversion in the lyric that he felt the need to marry it to the most lumbering macho riff possible.
Still, the band's shallowness - and thievery - don't stop there; they also rip off the idea of Warren Zevon's "I'll Sleep When I'm Dead."
Then again, the charm of this group comes in realizing that they are probably too dim to have heard of Warren Zevon. As if to prove the point, thier music seems utterly untouched by significant rock influences. The band may claim, in the icky "Blame it on the Love of Rock 'n' Roll," that they wanted to grow up to be the Stones. But is sounds more like they wanted to be Foreigner.
Of course, such tragic taste demands a kind of respect. Despite the group's new pretentions, it remains utterly credible in its blandness. No wonder of all major current rock bands, Bon Jovi stands as our most genuine mediocrity: pop's best intentioned void.
To tak w kontekście tego, że nie cały świat ocenia ten album dobrze
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