I was perhaps too quick to say that I was considering filing Steve Winwood between Steve Miller and Steve Perry. I almost forgot that I despise the Steve Miller band. Fortunately, a listen to the first side of Abracadabra brought me back to the joys of hating a piece of music and all the superiority implied. Maybe if I had been born in 1978 instead of 1988, I would instinctively gravitate towards Miller's watered-down rock sound with the force that only childhood nostalgia can lend. Alas, it wasn't so, and as such, my only reaction to the title track is one of horror.
All that said, if there is some objective arbiter of taste out there, I am sure that he or she would agree that I like worse albums than this one. It's poppy, overtly commercial, and dated, but so was that album I reviewed last night. I just happen to think that Miller is one obnoxiously smug motherfucker. I admit the chugging guitar rhythm of "Abracadabra" drew me in for a few moments, but once I heard its sneering chorus, all the loathing that I have felt for his other hit songs like "The Joker" came flooding back. The postures of hipness and slick production are just too much for me to deal with for this genre of music, and so to the blue bin I consign Abracadabra.
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