Pat Benatar

This story's so ancient it barely has the strength to be told. When those that ain't got finally
get, they start pulling the same tricks as those that already have. It's true that aspiring
women rockers are less relegated now to the stereotyped roles of concubine on display,
castrating bitch, tortured victim or sugar-and-spice songbird. Instead, we get albums like
Pat Benatar's In the Heat of the Night, on which the lady recycles the gents' wre... More >

Where some "eclectic" rock and rollers brim with sheer experimental joy, Benatar is sodden with try-anything-once ambition. From showbiz "hard rock" ("Heartbreaker") to big-beat "cabaret" ("Don't Let It Show") to received "futurism" ("My Clone Sleeps Alone") to fake-Blondie "Eurodisco" ("We Live for Love"), she shows about as much aesthetic principle as Don Kirshner. Though she does have a better voice than Kirshner. (Grade: C+)