Day 23: Robbie Williams – Rudebox
Album cover courtesy of Chrysalis Records
I’ve been meaning to listen to Rudebox by Robbie Williams for a few years now. The 2006 release from everyone’s favourite former Take That member (sorry Gary) has managed to reach a very special level of infamy. Some people view it as an underrated boundary-pushing gem in the former boy bander’s discography, while others see it as a stinker that temporarily killed his career.
Robbie was at the top of the tabloid shitlist for much of the early 2000s, so from that point of view, it’s no wonder his most experimental work got panned. One critic from The Sun called Rudebox the worst record ever made and said it’s rap with a silent C. The British press were also circulating a rumour that copies of unsold CDs were being sent to China to be melted down for raw materials – untrue, but funny.
Right off the bat, I do have to admit that the opening song “Rudebox” is unfortunately ass. With lyrical gems like “Dance like you just won at the special Olympics,” “You don't sweat much for a fat lass” and “Take both pills, fuck the matrix”, it’s just not good. The best part of the song is that the Genius page for the lyrics says “What exactly a ‘rudebox’ is has yet to be established” – take a guess, buddy.
The good news is that it gets better immediately after. “Viva Life on Mars” is a fairly fun country-inspired ditty. “Lovelight” and “She’s Madonna” are good pop songs. It does have its stranger moments too: whatever force of the universe made him invite Lily Allen to sing on a version of Manu Chao’s “Bongo Bong”, I’m sure we’ll never know. It was an odd combo, but it’s almost so odd that it works.
I like “We’re The Pet Shop Boys,” featuring vocals from the Pet Shop Boys, and even the Angels-era Robbie enjoyers must admit that “Louise” is not bad, while songs like “Burslem Normals”, “The 80’s” and “The 90’s” are filled to the brim with the quality that makes Robbie so charming. Despite a few wobbles in the middle, you’re sort of with him.
That is, until you get to the end. The closing bonus track “Dickhead” is an actual travesty. I did not need to hear Robbie say bomboclaat, and the scatological feature by the unknown wordsmith MC Tofty is genuinely horrific (“I got a bucket of shit ohh, yeah / I got a bucket of shit”). Even as a joke, the song is just so awful that it knocks the whole experience back severely. Hearing Robbie rap about getting cut off in traffic just feels unnecessary.
If you got rid of the first and last song and trimmed some of the fat in the middle, you’d have a decent pop record. But as it stands, that’s not it. 4/10. I see the vision, but it’s not there.