Kelly Clarkson's Not-So-Idol-ic 'Breakaway'

I've never been into reality TV. I have to confess, however, that the first season of American Idol sucked me in. About halfway through the competition, I started rooting for Kelly Clarkson, the effervescent, self-effacing girl-next-door from Texas. I actually started calling in to vote for her—the only time I've ever participated in the show's popularity contest.

My enthusiasm must have been justified, at least on some level. Kelly's down-home persona and versatile voice wooed American's hearts and earned her a victory. Since that high-profile entrée into pop culture, Kelly has released two albums. And her latest, Breakaway, represents a significant step away from her "aw shucks" appeal on American Idol. Hence, this second-look.

Killing Me Softly With Her Song
One glance at Breakaway's long list of co-writers and producers reveals a formidable creative team that's clearly worked hard to maximize the disc's teen appeal. The result? A highly polished piece of standard-issue girl pop that's long on heartbreak and short on anything that distinguishes it much from today's other reigning bubble-gum divas Britney Spears, Ashlee Simpson, Christina Aguilera and (now) actress-turned-singer Lindsay Lohan.

To her credit, Kelly has mostly avoided the highly sexualized lyrics and innuendo that saturate some of those women's songs. The album launches on a strong and positive note. The first single, "Breakaway" (co-written by Avril Lavigne) is an inspiring song about a young woman's dream of making her mark on the world. She yearns to "spread her wings" and "take a chance." But she doesn't fly solo at the expense of those who love her. Several times, she promises not to forget where she came from. Two references to prayer indicate she's asking for God's help, too.

After that upbeat beginning, though, the CD moves into the subject of girl-pop: the breakup song. Seven of the remaining 12 tracks focus on the emotional desolation and angry recriminations that inevitably follow a failed romance, and three more further unpack Kelly's unmet longings for romance.

"Since U Been Gone" laments the fact that her man never told her he wanted to be with her. On "Behind These Hazel Eyes" Kelly cries, "I'm torn into pieces ... Now all that's left of me/Is what I pretend to be." She sings about losing trust ("Because of You"), losing hope ("Gone") and being lonely ("Walk Away"). "I Hate Myself for Losing You" includes two implied references to committing suicide following a particularly devastating breakup. "Addicted" compares unrequited love to drug addiction ("It's like you're a drug ... It's like you're a leach sucking the life from me ... I'm hooked on you/I need a fix ... Just one more hit").

The only other genuinely hopeful song on the album (after "Breakaway") is "You Found Me," a thankful ode to a man who saw in her what no one else could. Even here, though, Kelly compares the goodness of love to a drug and begs, "please don't wake me from this high."

Where's the Love?
The movie High Fidelity (rated R for it's sexualized and profane take on romance) features an independent record-store owner who observes, "Nobody worries about kids listening to thousands, literally thousands of songs about heartbreak, rejection, pain, misery and loss. Did I listen to pop music because I was miserable? Or was I miserable because I listened to pop music?"

I couldn't help but recall his words as I thought about this album. I realize, of course, that romantic anguish is a staple of the genre and has been around a long while. I'm sure most of us remember the songs of our youth that voiced our pain better than our words ever could ("Separate Ways" by Journey, anyone?).

Nevertheless, I wanted more balance on Breakaway. Especially since Kelly Clarkson's audience likely includes a multitude of very young fans, I hoped that she might reflect upon the good things in her life more than she does. After all, the album's liner notes feature an extensive "thank you" to God and practically gush with enthusiasm for her Idol-ic life. So why don't those thoughts translate into her lyrics? Where's the hope? Where's the message that a woman's worth is so much greater than what her ex-boyfriend thinks or says about her?

Breakaway's songs are well-crafted and catchy, if a bit pre-fab. But the personable young woman from Texas I voted for on American Idol seems almost wholly absent. I still like Miss Clarkson, and I hope the best for her—just as I did before she hit the big time. But now she's given me some cause for concern. Concern for her. And concern about her influence on others.