Bieber’s overproduced debut studio album is 90 per cent begging over synthesizers, but it’s an iconic Canadian music moment nonetheless 

By: Rochelle Raveendran

Early 2010s middle-school crushes exist in a distinctly ephemeral vacuum. It’s a vacuum in the shape of a yellowing, squeaky gymnasium, filled with nervy tweens decked out like cast-off mannequins from the Gap and enough AXE body-spray fumes to be a lethal fire hazard with one errant spark. Capturing the rollercoaster of prepubescent puppy love and the hearts of those undergoing them is no easy task. In March 2010, then sixteen-year-old Justin Bieber rose to the challenge with My World 2.0, a bubblegum pop record that debuted at number one on the US Billboard 200 albums chart. 

Bieber’s first studio album stubbornly averts reinventing the wheel. Few tracks emerge memorable as he attempts to traverse the boundary between banal and timeless, often falling into the pitfalls of genre cliches and overproduction in the process. Ironically, My World 2.0 opens with its lead single, which is catchy almost to a fault. From its first staccato chords to Bieber’s opening warbles, “Baby” triggers the instant recognition in unsuspecting listeners’ minds today that music producers crave. 

The song is fuelled by post-break-up disbelief; all five stages of grief are on display as Bieber tries to wrap his mind around the cruel reality of his first love breaking his heart for the first time. He even tries bargaining with her, offering her a diamond ring, before he finally accepts the loss at the song’s conclusion, mournfully singing that “[he’s] all gone.” Genres and generations of heartbreak collide when Ludacris pops in for a feature, fondly rap-reminiscing about his own first love, who he compares to caffeine for his thirteen-year old brain. Whirring disco synthesizers drive “Baby” forward at a mindlessly steady pace as Bieber’s youthful voice ventures into nasal with his repetitive whining pleas. When he hits peak piercing, it’s as if he’s zesting your ear canal with a kitchen box grater.

“Baby” highlights a recurring theme throughout My World 2.0: Bieber begging. He’s desperate for love and commitment, and once he finally gets it, he sure as hell isn’t going to let go without begging his girl to stay. On “Somebody to Love,” the album’s strongest dance track, he belts out a universal plea to a harsh world. Bieber’s not asking for a lot — he just wants a soulmate. Complex lyrics aren’t needed for an upbeat song that wouldn’t be out of place in a nightclub in 2010; it isn’t surprising that “Somebody to Love” was originally written for Usher, who provides backing vocals on the track. 

Elsewhere, however, My World 2.0 terminally suffers from cliched lyricism that plunges about as deep as a Dollarama greeting card. Bieber guides his love through dancing in front of the haters on “Never Let You Go,” crooning: “Take my hand, let’s just dance / Watch my feet.” Similes are employed excessively as Bieber prattles through all the hackneyed platitudes of middle-school romances, until he sounds suspiciously disingenuous. When he repeatedly assures his girlfriend that their love has nowhere to go but up, in the aptly named “Up,” it’s so continually cloying that you get the sense that Bieber must be hiding something. 

Formula strikes gold with the album’s sunny highlight, “U Smile.” Synths are thankfully absent and piano takes center stage as Bieber goes as Motown as possible for a teenage white boy born in 1990s Stratford, Ont. The song is earnestly sweet without being saccharine, working within convention to create a timeless declaration of young love that’s bolstered by Bieber’s infatuated delivery. It’s no surprise that “U Smile” was chosen as the B-side for “Baby” in his patented electric singing toothbrush.

In a moment of true poetry, the stand-out on My World 2.0 is followed by a track that encompasses all the worst aspects the album has to offer. Synths are back with a vengeance on “Runaway Love,” pulsing and buzzing in a manner totally discordant with Bieber’s vocal melody. The song is overproduced to a disjointed, migraine-inducing extreme; layers upon layers of Bieber harmonizing with himself echo and swirl together. Everytime you think all the vocal lines are there, another layer of Bieber is added to the mix. When “Runaway Love” finally ends in a lazy, slurring grind reminiscent of an animatronic Disneyland ride being powered off, it’s only a relief.

More often than not, first loves end on a bitter note. My World 2.0’s orchestral final track recognizes this reality with one of its stronger songs. “That Should be Me,” ties into the album’s opener, cycling through pain, spite, disbelief, betrayal, and sadness all in under four minutes. Bieber can’t accept that his ex-girlfriend has moved on from him so quickly. “Does he love you the way I can?” he asks, before poignantly noting that “This is so sad.” Warm backing vocals that are not sung by Bieber provides a refreshing respite from excessive layering and combines with the orchestral instrumentation for a soaring finale. 

Though lyrically limited, “That Should be Me” ties up the arc of young love with yearning regret. Bieber’s singing is at its most expressive as his voice trembles and strains with hurt. He brings real emotional weight to the ballad, making a convincing case for the thoughtful pop music that middle schoolers deserve, music that My World 2.0 provides far too infrequently.