An album as glorious as it is disposable, is a slick piece of Eurotrash that answers burning questions like "What would it sound like if fronted ?" and "What would it be like if had gone club instead of ?" What was to the '90s, is to the 2000s, at least in Europe, where 's ode to that funny tingle down there ("Oooooh, you touch my Tra-La-La/My ding, ding dong") unseated as the king of hits, ringtones, and all that is sparkling Euro-cheese. Course, is more ironic than , although there's no audible smirking and the irony is buried so deep, it's easy for the listener to unashamedly don the headphones and channel all the machismo the universe holds. Most of the tracks brilliantly mimic mainstream with offering seductive and suggestive on top, along with a heaping helping of guttural "mmmmmmm"s and "ahhhhhhh"s (example: "It's you and me/And pina colada/Mmmmm!/Ahhhhhh!"). His faceless and luminous background singers deliver the sugary melodies and there are a whole lot of castanets and references to tan lines, vacations, and "hot, hot summer love." Oddball of the lot is an electroclashy stomper that wouldn't be totally out of place on 's , but works best when it shoots for the top of the charts with worthy follow-ups like and If you have any doubts that this is the best that camp- has to offer, know that the legendary makes a guest appearance on the cover version of her career-defining This ain't Viagra, it's Spanish Fly, or as says, "It's a no-no/And you'll like it." ~ David Jeffries