With Love, Chér

With Love, Chér is like a glittery, melodramatic time capsule from the late '60s—complete with all the psychedelic confusion and polyester that era has to offer. Imagine rummaging through your grandma's attic and stumbling upon a vintage dress that's all sequins, chiffon, and just a bit too much drama. That's this album in a nutshell: charming, a little bonkers, but undeniably iconic.

Cher's voice here is stronger and edgier than her earlier work, like she's traded in the sweet innocence for something with a little more bite. Each track showcases that unmistakable presence that would soon cement her as a music legend. The whole album sticks to Sonny Bono's signature formula: a few custom-crafted originals for his muse, mixed with covers of standards and contemporary hits that scream "let's see what happens."

The album kicks off with "You Better Sit Down Kids," an original penned by Sonny, and it's no wonder it became the biggest hit here. It's peak melodrama, with Cher delivering a performance that's both haunting and oddly comforting, like being told a scary bedtime story by someone you trust implicitly. But don't despair, because there are some other true gems hiding in this record. "I Will Wait for You," famously from The Umbrellas of Cherbourg, is one of those rare, magical moments where everything just clicks. The percussion hits just right, Cher's vocals soar, and suddenly, you're caught up in all the feels.

Of course, this wouldn't be a '60s Cher album without a few moments that make you go, "Huh?" Case in point: "Hey Joe." Cher gives it her all, bless her, but it's like watching a ballerina try to dance in hiking boots—admirable, but not quite right. And then there's "Mama (When My Dollies Have Babies)." This track is the definition of a guilty pleasure—it's so bizarrely eerie and campy that you're left wondering if Sonny was just having a laugh. Yet, it's got this strange pull, like a dish you're not sure you like but keep tasting just to figure it out.

And just when you think you've figured the album out, Cher wraps it up with a rather ambitious—if slightly head-scratching—version of Bob Dylan's "The Times They Are A-Changin'." Sonny Bono goes all out with the Phil Spector-inspired Wall of Sound, desperately trying to morph Cher into the female Barry McGuire. It's... a choice. Let's just say it's no "All I Really Want to Do."

In the end, With Love, Chér is like flipping through a scrapbook of an artist on the cusp of greatness, still sorting out what works and what's best left behind in the attic. When it hits, it really hits, giving us glimpses of the legend in the making. But fair warning—you might find yourself skipping past a few tracks to get to the real gold.