Don Ignacio's Music Reviews

Doo-Wops & Hooligans 2010 ★★★★

Grenade • Just the Way You Are • Our First Time • Runaway Baby • The Lazy Song • Marry You • Talking to the Moon • Liquor Store Blues • Count on Me • The Other Side

There’s so little doo-wop in here it should be called Don’t Wop. (Sorry everybody, that’s the best I’ve got today.) Nope, there aren’t greasers harmonizing under streetlights with switchblades tucked underneath their jackets as far as I can tell. What it actually delivers instead is a whole slew of middle-of-the-road pop-rock, reggae-pop, piano ballads—all with hooks potent enough that it’s annoying. And I mean annoying in a good way. None of these songs are original in form or execution. Even in Mars’ best-of-times, the last thing he was ever interested in is reinventing pop music. He reimagines it pretty incredibly, though, and it comes complete with a very distinctive voice, an impressive amount of control, and the ability to give familiar material a healthy smattering of personality. As Mars is stuck in a crowded field, that's the kind of thing that counts for something. This album immediately turned him into a pop star—with several singles taking up permanent residence on radio. “Marry You” in particular seems to be contractually required to appear at every millennial’s wedding reception in North America. (Except it didn’t play at mine—so the rules can suck it.) “Talking to the Moon” goes bigger—a piano ballad with a nicely cosmic sweep and a chorus that gets a bit airborne. Then “Runaway Baby” is funk-pop comes with an actual riff. Remember riffs? That has a good one. Anyway, no weak spots whatsoever in this album. And just based on how much it gets my toe tapping, I can only reach one conclusion: I guess I like it.

Unorthodox Jukebox 2012 ★★

Young Girls • Locked Out of Heaven • Gorilla • Treasure • Moonshine • When I Was Your Man • Natalie • Show Me • Money Make Her Smile • If I Knew

It’s hard for me to call Unorthodox Jukebox disappointing because this is more or less the Bruno Mars I expected when I picked up the debut. Slick, upbeat, generally listenable, but also chasing trends more than reviving old ones. The surprise was how much I enjoyed the debut. The expectation was how little I’m enjoying this follow-up. Mars sounds even more polished here. The vocals are flowery, fancy, technically impressive. But where the debut had sweetness and earnestness, this one has swagger—and not the fun kind. I’m not just talking about the explicit lyrics. If this were provocative, Prince-style, I don’t think I’d mind. But Mars comes off leery and grabby here. Operating with a presumption that he’s a chick magnet and women want him to leer at them. Maybe that’s true. But what I get from it is more like overhearing some smarmy guy smooth-talk your daughter in the next room while you try to decide which sentence made you hate him most. Other songs just annoy me. I particularly wish to file a complaint against “Gorilla.” I’m not a zoologist, so maybe I’m missing the finer nuances of gorilla romance, but when he sings about “making love like gorillas,” I’m mostly left with questions I don’t want answered. “Treasure” is the keeper, assuming you can get past him promising all the “wild young girls” he’ll return. Like Shane riding back over the hill. Musically, it’s the best thing here—retro electronic funk, candy-colored guitars, a good melody, the Michael Jackson/Prince route traveled with enough aplomb to make it work. “Moonshine” is a piano ballad with enough hooks to justify its existence, and Mars’ voice is pristine doing the soulful acrobatics. “Show Me” slides into reggae and works as a minor highlight, even with the lyrics carrying more of that frat-boy invitation energy. A listenable record as a whole, especially if you can identify with this reckless little fantasy of scoring with all the women, doing all the drugs, and waking up convinced it was all very smooth.

24K Magic 2016 ★★★½

24K Magic • Chunky • Perm • That's What I Like • Versace on the Floor • Straight Up & Down • Calling All My Lovelies • Finesse • Too Good To Say Goodbye

Bruno Mars’ swagger has now reached critical mass, even compared to Unorthodox Jukebox. But I find his third album far better company. Mainly because his boasting feels more communal now. That is, the party’s already happening, and everybody in his orbit gets a VIP badge. This is a glossy, heavy, occasionally raunchy album with a deep affection for ’80s and ’90s R&B. You’ll probably need some affection for that world too, because Mars spends most of the album trying on different styles from the era. The title track opens things with such a good groove it’ll be difficult for even the worst curmudgeon to deny it. “Chunky” is similarly hard to resist, rolling along on that killer ascending bass line. “Perm” is my favorite. It’s practically a James Brown tent revival, supplied with horn stabs, a yelp-and-grunt-ridden vocal performance, and sweaty dance-floor urgency. Mars’ impression is uncanny. He used to do Elvis impersonations as a child—you can even spot him briefly in Honeymoon in Vegas if you feel like raiding the VHS vault. These transformations were always part of the package, and this one is about as good as that gets. Much of the album, particularly the second half, drifts into early-’90s R&B ballad territory. “That’s What I Like” became the big hit, all luxury and indulgence. But for my 24K doubloon, “Versace on the Floor” is the standout slow jam. Whitney Houston could have floated over this thing back in the day: vibey electric pianos, silky synths, that slightly papery drum beat keeping one foot in the present. Best of all, the song gathers steam as it goes, piling on instrumental ideas and growing larger with each pass. “Too Good to Say Goodbye” gets even closer to the Whitney model, though it’s not quite as stirring. The ballads do crowd the second half a bit, especially after the first half came in wearing dancing shoes. Still, Mars pulls it off. Consider him back in my good graces.

An Evening with Silk Sonic 2021 ★★★★½

Silk Sonic Intro • Leave the Door Open • Fly as Me • After Last Night (with Thundercat & Bootsy Collins) • Smokin Out the Window • Put On a Smile • 777 • Skate • Blast Off

Released by Silk Sonic

Now this is beautiful. Silk Sonic—a so-called super duo consisting of Bruno Mars and Anderson .Paak—take ’70s soul right out of mothballs, dust it off, polish the brass buttons, steam the velvet, maybe perform a little spell they found in a mysterious used bookstore, and bring it back. Yes, another retro exercise from Bruno Mars, but it’s superb. The past returning this lush, larger-than-life, and lovingly assembled. “Leave the Door Open” is the album’s most potent killer. It’s every 1970s romantic soul ballad from AM radio squeezed into one absurdly gorgeous song. Smooth orchestration. Melting harmonies. Bruno Mars singing in a high register like he’s trying to seduce the ghost of Michael Jackson. Anderson .Paak arrives midway through, a little more grounded, singing about rose petals in the bathtub and adding enough grin to keep all that honey from hardening. The song should be too much. It is too much. That’s why I like it. Everything here is smooth and sweet. The songwriting, the singing, the arrangements. “Fly as Me” rides a groove so heavy it practically puts you in plaid bell-bottoms with giant gold pendants already swinging. It’s Jacksons-era funk—as infectious as anything outside the very cream of the Jacksons catalogue. Maybe the Jacksons’ “Blame It on the Boogie” beats it. Maybe. “777” pushes .Paak further toward rap. Not period appropriate, but you almost don’t notice, since it stays locked exuberantly into funk. “After Last Night” cools the room, turning into something more down-low with some Isaac Hayes-style spoken-word seduction. No deep voice, though. But with smooth horns, wah-wah guitar, sugar-sweet female backing vocals. Half of these songs are bedroom soul, the other half dance-floor strut. I’m floored by the precision of it. How fun the album is. This is everything you like about ’70s soul but without the flaws. Almost like reconfiguring the whole genre in a dream. As much as I wish some of my favorite 21st-century records weren’t quite so brazenly retro, I’m not going to argue with results. If Bruno Mars and Anderson .Paak insist on digging through old closets and finding jackets this good, I’m happy to wear one.

The Romantic 2026 ★★★½

Risk It All • Cha Cha Cha • I Just Might • God Was Showing Off • Why You Wanna Fight? • On My Soul • Something Serious • Nothing Left • Dance With Me

Had this somehow shown up as a bonus disc tucked inside An Evening with Silk Sonic—songs considered but left off the album—I’d have been delighted. As a proper follow-up, though, it’s harder not to notice how readily this album settles for things Bruno Mars has already done better. There are a few new flavors. Not many, but enough to keep the thing from feeling like leftovers under a heat lamp. The opener has a vague mariachi tint before Mars returns to his natural habitat: smooth retro grooves. “Cha Cha Cha” sounds like something a smiling television host might have sung on a variety show in 1974. It’s almost corny enough to be a problem, but Mars opens his mouth, sings the bejeezus out of it, and gets away with it. “I Just Might” has a heavy soul groove and one of the stronger melodies here. For once, I stop thinking so much about the record collection he’s raiding and just enjoy the song. It’s less tongue-in-cheek than most of the album. “On My Soul,” for instance, starts as a flashy little thing that reminds me of an old game-show theme. Not that I don’t enjoy it. I like 1970s game-show music more than I should admit. “Something Serious” picks up a Santana flavor, while “Nothing Left” could almost pass for an Elton John ballad from somewhere in the middle of that decade. What’s missing is surprise. Even by Bruno Mars standards, this is familiar territory. Silk Sonic felt luxurious. Overflowing. Every arrangement dripping with honey. The Romantic feels comparatively stripped back. Still, it’s hard to be too mad at this thing. The melodies are there. Mars remains exceptionally likable as a singer. Not one of his finest albums, in the end, but another keeper in this guy's strikingly solid run.