The second-biggest-selling artist last year returns with a deflating clutch of covers, buffed-up but bereft of soul.
Opening with a deeply unremarkable, straightforward cover of You Make Me Feel So Young, Bublé sets the tone for 46minutes of jazz-pop that’s blander than a bowl of prison slop.
Quite how he sucked so much life out of Who’s Loving You, so vividly sung by a young Michael Jackson, is a mystery.
His duet with Reese Wetherspooon, taking on Frank and Nancy Sinatra’s Something Stupid even fails to equal the suave version laid down a few years back by Robbie Williams and Nicole Kidman.
For an album supposedly about ‘love, happiness, fun and yummy things’ this stack of glossily-produced standards, plus a couple of painfully predictable originals, is just lazy.
One Of A Kind is passionless, After All, co-written by Bryan Adams, is OK yet the best thing here with soaring guitar and strident brass.
Naturally 7 and the Puppini Sisters are roped in on two other tunes but provide little more than window dressing.
Bublé needs to lose the comfort blanket next time.
2 stars
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