Funhouse

Whether struggling with sobriety or confronting her own meanness, Pink has never been less cool: She’s hot-blooded throughout, and it suits both her pipes and a female pop genre that rarely embraces this much tangible pain.

In a way, that does make Funhouse unique among divorce albums, as it's the first to concentrate on liberation rather than loss -- but if she was going to go in this direction, Pink may have been better off not pretending that she's bothered by the breakup.

Fortunately, there are enough clever one-liners and enough moments of reflection and candor to give Funhouse substance. In fact, the hooks are arguably the strongest on the surliest and most melancholy material.

It’s easy to see why Pink is currently one of the world’s biggest pop stars; she’s feisty, smart, has a good voice, looks good and is edgy enough to stand out from the crowd but not so much that she alienates anyone.

Funhouse is not her best album or even her most exciting excursion. It is, however, her most mature statement to date. And considering the litter of self-deprecating pop staples that she’s left in her wake, that’s really saying something.

'Funhouse' comes off as a little disappointing. It predominantly rehashes the formula found on its predecessor, which results in a number of very good songs, but nothing truly outstanding.

Funhouse would be more fun if Pink went easier on the bad-love songs.

Frustratingly, the sound and the fury is followed by a string of damp ballads charting her split from her husband, but Funhouse is a solid album nevertheless.

The otherwise likeably raunchy and bratty Pink is now officially walking a fine line, leaning dangerously close to the humdrum.

Her new album lays into her ex-husband with devilish choruses and potent hooks, notably on the spunky 'One Foot Wrong' and 'Funhouse'.

The heartbreak has done nothing to enhance her ploddy songwriting or her tendency to shout where others would sing.

It's a shame, because Pink can reach unusually stirring heights when in the right register. That register, on Funhouse, is something close to despondence with a lot of tiredness thrown in—just enough to make Pink forego her instinct for winking and simply sound pained instead.

Listening to ‘Funhouse’ her latest post-Linda Perry makeover album to retread that increasingly mucilaginous pop-rock terrain, you can’t help but feel she should just be, well, better then this by now: more Esthero and less sweary-Mary Kelly Clarkson.