Large-headed Canadian chanteuse Celine Dion is back with her thirty-fifth (count 'em, there's really thirty-five) album since emerging as a Eurovision-winning teen star in the late 1980s. Somewhere in the midst of her twenty year career, Dion has managed to become the biggest-selling female artist of all time, shifting over 200 million units of her innocuous pop schlock and no doubt influencing a whole new generation of singers to grit their teeth, purse their lips and pop a vein whilst warbling (stand up, Ronan Keating). Minor quibbles aside, the sheer power of Dion's distinctive voice is certainly a force to be reckoned with; unfortunately, she'll never appeal to anyone other than the type of person whose favourite film of all time is Titanic. Taking Chances, her first studio album since 2003 and her thirteenth English language album overall, is ironically-titled, given that it takes no chances whatsoever. This is predictable, inoffensive pop that's the aural equivalent of a glossy magazine: nice to look at, fills a gap in your time, but is ultimately purposeless. Dion has enlisted several guest writers here, in an effort to expand her sonic repertoire; pop connoisseur Linda Perry has penned several tracks (which are probably amongst the most listenable on the album), Dave Stewart of the Eurythmics also had a hand in the title track, and even r 'n' b star Ne-Yo composes one of several pop ballads. It makes no difference whatsoever, though - the usual vocal somersaults, quiet-loud-quiet numbers and power ballads (a cover of Heart's Alone, for example) are all in plentiful abundance here. If you like the usual Dion fodder, you'll love this. But Taking Chances? Unless this was an album of Norwegian death metal covers, you wouldn't know the meaning of the phrase, Celine, dear.

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