Though he never had the same solo success as his Beatles bandmates, Ringo Starr could, usually, be relied on for a few fun thrills. Bad Boy has none of that. It doesn’t have the joys of Goodnight Vienna, an album which had the playful touch of a man using the space age to pull him into the modern world. Nor does it have the joys of a more recent album like Look Up, where you can hear a veteran of the studio throw himself into a genre he has loved since his pre-fame days. Bad Boy has none of that. It’s a straight-shooting send-up of pop rock and it feels a little off base, as was the case for many of Starr’s sluggish-sounding albums from the late 1970s. Gone are The Beatles collaborations, the Bob Dylan overlap which would feature on a scrapped country album nearly a decade after Bad Boy is much stronger than this album was never released.
It’s an example of Starr trying to fit into what people viewed him as, and at the time of Bad Boy releasing, they saw a Beatles drummer trying to push on. Where Starr may work best of all when collaborating with former bandmates and friends in the industry, he’s fine still when left to his own devices. Considering the limited yet negative reputation Bad Boy has, it’s nice to hear some quality ring through in the early moments. Upbeat instrumental work on Who Needs a Heart is a nice listen, carried well by Starr’s vocal style. It’s the groovier tone here that may win you over, and it’s a style Starr is a natural at creating. So great was he at this laid-back style that he often fails to hammer home the emotional value of his song, as is the case for Who Needs a Heart. Heartbreak never sounded so passive. Beyond that opening thrill, there is very little to love about Bad Boy.
Neither living up to the title nor defying it either, Starr plods along with some loved-up, lacklustre music. The title track is a sentimental mess, nice instrumentals once more thanks to some neatly placed piano work, but Starr suggesting life is a “bowl of cherries” is meaningless, aimless songwriting. Attempts at playful music can be heard throughout Bad Boy, though none of it sticks. Lipstick Traces (On a Cigarette) is a weak piece, a sluggish run-through of a disposed of lover wanting their better half to return home. Some piano here, a bit of brass there, it’s nothing special. Repetitive, dull wordplay on Heart on My Sleeve (no prize for guessing what Starr relies on lyrically here) is perhaps the best song to highlight the leading problem of Bad Boy. Starr lacks the adventurous tone necessary to the very best of romantically inclined songs.
Where Did Our Love Go offers an unconvincing riff on Billy Ocean’s Love Really Hurts Without You, strings and all, but it’s a massive improvement over a few of the preceding tracks. Rather strikingly, the entire B-side is a collection of songs built on a sole message of shock that a significant other is spending their time with Starr. It’s a shock that seems never to escape the veteran drummer, but it will leave audiences soon after hearing it the first time. Bad Boy starts strong, though that could be a case of putting the best track first and hoping it’s enough to hoodwink people into sticking around for the rest of the album. It worked, though there’s nothing after Who Needs a Heart worth hearing. None of it is uniquely dreadful, it’s all very passive, apart from Monkey See – Monkey Do, a nasty piece of work that feels more like ridiculing the listener than featuring any heartfelt tones. Bad Boy certainly lives up to its title. It is quite bad.
