Review: Katy Perry's 'Prism' honors spirit and flesh (USA News)

USA News __The last place you may hope to find Katy Perry is lying on the lavatory floor, clearly musing over suicide.

Yet there she is, in By the Grace the God, a shockingly stark, stately track on Prism (out Tuesday), Perry's catch up to Teenage Dream, the 2010 sophomore exertion that secured her status as the supreme ruler of feel-great pop.

"Supposed I wasn't sufficient/ Found I wasn't so intense," Perry sings. At the same time then the tone movements to something more helpful. Perry picks herself up; "I looked in the mirror and chose to stay," she pronounces.

That basically wholes up the message of Prism, which finds Perry extending herself past the sugar-covered sparkle of Dream in inquiry of higher manifestations of strengthening. There is a hesitantly otherworldly vibe to a percentage of the material; on the sitar-bound Legendary Lovers, she asks another accomplice to "say my name as a scripture."

Adore Me and Unconditionally recommend electronically improved self improvement manuals. The previous supports self esteem as an essential for any fruitful relationship, while on the recent she vows to acknowledge an adoration engage's "insecurities" and "messy laundry," urging him to "open up your heart and just gave it a chance to start."

Perry turns contemplative on the more stifled Ghost, obviously spooky by ex Russell Brand. In any case the heart of Prism falsehoods in additional energetic tunes — most composed with Dr. Luke and Max Martin, the collection's boss makers — that regularly manufacture from vaporous verses to thick, pounding melodies.

There are likewise straight-out gathering songs of devotion, for example This Is How We Do, a short of breath tribute to "women at breakfast in the previous evening dress." In her profound mission, Perry plainly hasn't neglected the substance: On the sultry Dark Horse, she murmurs to visitor Juicy J of an adoration that "will make you suspend."

On Birthday, a sweetly wicked Perry pledges, over flexible sections and loco horns, to give her darling "something exceptional to celebrate," and on the '90s house-music reverence Walking On Air they "go deeper and harder than at any other time in recent memory before," she sings blissfully.

What strikes us most on Prism, however, is Perry's desire for life itself, a quality that is veritable and charming enough to reclaim a couple of pop