El Sexto Sentido By Johnny Loftus
Thalía's self-titled 2003 effort was meant to be her English-language breakthrough, with guest shots from Fat Joe and photography that resembled a Spiegel ad, or maybe a Shania album. But it was too superficial, and there was little crossover appeal in the music itself. In contrast, 2005's El Sexto Sentido is sung entirely en español, except for English versions of its three singles tacked onto the end. It's a straightforward Latin pop album, with the requisite balladry (the rousing "Olvídame" really shows off her voice), bouncy hybrid pop (the bandoneon-flavored opener, "Amar Sin Ser Amada"), and exuberant anthems you can imagine the entire dancefloor singing along with ("Seducción," "No Me Voy a Quebrar"). It also features "Amor Prohibido," Thalía's rendition of Selena's Tejano classic. (Thalía performed the song at an April 2005 concert event that remembered Selena on the ten-year anniversary of her murder.) El Sexto Sentido features songwriting and production throughout from Estéfano, and Thalía's vocals are buoyant, particularly on the biggest notes. But the album also lacks a certain vitality. Tracks like "Un Sueño Para Dos" are a little over-produced, and "Sabe Bien" could be any dance-pop coo, only it's cooed in Spanish. Fortunately, "24000 Besos (24000 Baci)" is much better, a dizzyingly upbeat track where the catchiness isn't lost in translation. Still, despite its highlights, El Sexto Sentido feels like product. It's slick and perfectly arranged and performed with just enough gusto to get the crowd moving or emotions flowing, but never with more effort than what's necessary. And as a result, Thalía fades into the background, like her pretty but hazy headshot on the record's cover. She's a superstar, an actress and singer, a businesswoman. She's even starred in a spot for Dr. Pepper in America. But while it will likely appeal to her die-hard fans, Thalía's El Sexto Sentido is neither up to her superstar standard nor a domestic breakthrough.

Greatest Hits By Jason Birchmeier
Far from the first greatest-hits collection for Thalía yet notably the first to compile hits from her EMI years, Greatest Hits is a nonstop pleasure. There's a bounty of music — 16 songs here, drawn from five albums, two of the inclusions previously unreleased — and it's a well-balanced sample of the Latin pop star's many hits from the mid-'90s to the early 2000s. Plus, it's sequenced in chronological order, so you get to hear her music evolve in style, becoming increasingly poppy and multicultural. In this way, the collection plays like a microcosm of Latin pop itself during this span of time, for more than probably any other Latin music artist, Thalía embodied the essence of pop in all its sweet glory. The pair of previously released songs is up to par with the rest of the inclusions, especially the excellent "Cuando Tú Me Toca." If you're looking for an entry point into Thalía's fairly vast catalog, Greatest Hits is ideal. For one, you don't even want to consider her early-'90s recordings for Fonovisa/Universal, and for two, because each of her EMI albums has its own character, it's useful to sample those different sounds here. That way, if you find a particular set of songs you like, chances are you'll probably enjoy the entire album those songs came from. This sampler approach aside, Greatest Hits is simply a great beginning-to-end listen — again, a nonstop pleasure as the joyful, feel-good parade of hits cascades over the course of the hour-plus CD.

Thalía [English] By Johnny Loftus
Thalía's string of Latin albums were calculated and executed for maximum appeal — 2000's Arrasando was, after all, named after a popular Mexican soap opera. While the sounds were predictable, they were also immediately danceable, and smartly showcased the delectable Thalía herself. Given all of this, it's not surprising that the Latin superstar's English-language debut is equally fine-tuned. Before it becomes a Spanish-language album in its second half, Thalía runs artfully through the styles that have dominated the urban club/dance scene at least since the late '90s. Thalía trades lines Ashanti-style with Fat Joe on "I Want You" (which also cops the hook of the late Big Punisher's classic — and better — single "Still Not a Player"). She sells the positive-thinking vibe of the dancefloor-ready "Don't Look Back," but the song was much better as Kylie Minogue's "Love at First Sight." Beginning to see a pattern? It's true that with music such as this, the overall image of an artist — stylization in both sound and sight — is more marketable than breaking new ground. Thalía understands this from her Latin work. But from its bland photography, which dilutes her inherent diva-ness in favor of a generic (read: Americanized) sexy pop star layout, to tracks like "Misbehavin'" and "What's It Gonna Be Boy?," Thalía's official U.S. debut is a sleepwalking affair that lumps her into the throng of performers hoping to steal a little bit of J.Lo's bling-bling. It's unfortunate that Thalía's talent is misdirected into sound-alike territory, since she sounds so strong on the stirring "Closer to You" and "Save the Day" — two surging dance ballads that suggest the mature sound of Des'Ree. It can be said that the songs are just another style Thalía is trying on; however, it's obvious in her expressive vocal that this is where she belongs, which is more than can be said for her tepid TRL duet with Fat Joe. The album is doubly disappointing, since its second half consists mostly of Spanish-language versions of the singles in its first half. Thalía was designed to show America what Mexico and the world have known for years about the artist. Unfortunately, it never focuses long enough on one thing to allow its star to truly emerge.

Thalía [2002] Jason Birchmeier
By the time Thalía entered the studio to record what would become her self-titled album, she was a gigantic, supernova-size star in the Latin media world. Her previous album, Arrasando, had spun off not a couple, nor a few, but rather a whopping five hit singles, including the chart-topping "Entre el Mar y una Estrella." And of course, she was long recognized from her years as the reigning telenovela star, not to mention the tabloid attention she enjoyed in the wake of her three-million-dollar wedding to Sony boss (and Mariah Carey ex) Tommy Mottola in 2000. So, hoping to keep up her hot streak and further break herself internationally, Thalía works with the best in the business — the Latin pop business, that is. As usual, she gets production work from the one and only Emilio Estefan, Jr., but more notably, she works almost exclusively with the songwriting team of Estéfano and Julio Reyes. Estéfano, in particular, was the songwriter of the moment in Latin pop circles. He'd penned a long string of huge hits for an array of artists, and you can bet he was brought aboard to help Thalía attain the heights to which he had taken her peer, Paulina Rubio, two years earlier on the smash Paulina album with its numerous hits. Like Paulina, Thalia is a buffet of delights — finely prepared pop songs of all types, each with its own flavor and appeal, some tastier than others, sure, but practically all of them delectable. Highlights are too plentiful to detail, though the explosive album-opener, "Tu y Yo," and the sentimental power ballad "No Me Enseñaste" are among Thalía's best ever performances and were both Billboard Hot Latin Tracks chart-toppers. In fact, Thalia is air-tight solid for the bulk of its playing time — until it suddenly segues into a three-song promotion for her upcoming English-language crossover album, that is. It's a shrewd move, commercially speaking, but it really pours a cold shower on what otherwise is a near-perfect album. Actually, Thalía's English-language recordings are much debated in terms of quality, to be fair, but amid that debate there's a definite consensus: her English songs are always met with mixed reception, even among her most ardent supporters. So if you put aside these final few songs, you have for yourself as great an album as Thalía ever recorded. Amor a la Mexicana is an excellent album, too, but Thalia is a very different creature. It's an album that's as much the result of Estéfano's songwriting genius as it is Thalía's unmatched appeal. It does sound a little dated in hindsight — closely tied to the production trends of its time, too closely perhaps — but not nearly to the extent of Arrasando. A touchstone Latin pop album, no question, Thalia is also one of Estéfano's crowning achievements. A tough act to follow, this one, as both Thalía and Estéfano would discover when time came to reunite and record El Sexto Sentido three years later, to markedly less success.

Arrasando By Jason Birchmeier
If En Extasis and its breakthrough hit, "Piel Morena," established Thalía as a prospective Latin pop artist in 1995, and if the Emilio Estefan, Jr.-produced Amor a la Mexicana established her as a sizzling sensation in 1997, then her likewise Estefan-produced Arrasando firmly established her as a full-fledged superstar in 2000, when it began spinning off its five hit singles. The album is a trendy one, very much of its time — that is, right at the turn of the millennium, when high-intensity, trancy dance music was all the rage in fashionable circles. The bulk of Arrasando plays to that style, with its abundance of synthesizers and dance beats, as well as its ecstatic choruses, which seem to reach for the stars song after song. Trance music was peaking around this time, remember, and that style of dance music, which was the club sound of Europe and the coastal cities of the U.S., certainly informs Estefan's production here. It works relatively well for Thalía. That's because she's not so much a singer as she is a personality, admittedly a very attractive one. So for much of Arrasando she mainly rides the rhythms, wrapping herself in bombastic production laden with synthesizer stabs and overdubbed background vocals. The result is probably too much for anyone not inclined to dance madly; this especially goes for the title track, which is tailor-made for peak-hour club play. However, there are several slower songs that help relieve the intensity, most notably the airy "Entre el Mar y una Estrella" and the soothing "No Hay Que Llorar." Once the opening run of singles comes to an end, the album ironically gets more interesting, as Thalía tries out different styles to varying yet generally fun effect. The album closes with "Rosalinda," the theme song of Thalía's telenovela of the time. It's the most traditionally Mexican song on the set and does stand out because of that, but again, in a fun sort of way, especially given its substance and its album-closing sequencing. To step back for a moment and put Arrasando in perspective, it certainly differs from its predecessor (Amor a la Mexicana) and successor (Thalia). All are among her best efforts, with Arrasando being probably the most contrived. It's more adventurous than the streamlined Thalia, yet it's not as free-flowing as Amor a la Mexicana. Of the three, it surely sounds the most dated, and for all these reasons, it's a strangely curious album, very evocative of its time.

Amor A La Mexicana By Jason Birchmeier
Essentially, Amor a la Mexicana is a more fully fledged version of Thalía's previous album, En Extasis, which was her EMI debut and her first noteworthy, internationally successful release. The highlights of that album were the ones written and produced by hitmakers, namely songwriter Kike Santander and producer Emilio Estefan, Jr., the duo chiefly responsible for the breakthrough hit "Piel Morena." Those two hitmakers not only return for Amor a la Mexicana; they mastermind the entire album, for the most part. The results are predictably excellent. Most every song here is propelled by the same confetti of Latin dance rhythms that had propelled "Piel Morena" to such dizzying heights — bits of salsa, bits of cumbia, bits of banda, bits of balladry, and so on. But this isn't just a Latin dance album. Amor a la Mexicana is also an album of well-written songs with compelling, appropriately mexicana lyrics and catchy, singalong hooks. Furthermore, it's a tight album with very few, if any, dull moments — ten strong songs averaging four minutes each. And it could very well be Thalía's best album overall. Her subsequent ones would score more hits and prove much more popular, certainly. But their tailor-made trendy pop songs were very much tied to their respective moments in time and sound relatively contrived in hindsight, whereas the songs of Amor a la Mexicana are all cut from the same cloth and flow freely and naturally, without the target-marketed pop concessions of those subsequent albums. For that reason above all, Amor a la Mexicana is a sort of timeless album — the sound of itself rather than the sound of, say, 2000 (Arrasando with its bombastic synthesizers and trance flash) or 2002 (Thalia with its pop-crossover obsession).

En Extasis By Jason Birchmeier
En Extasis is Thalía's debut album for EMI as well as a huge stride forward for her career. Her preceding series of albums for Fonovisa were fairly successful in Mexico, but more so because of her celebrity than because they were especially good albums. In particular, they were weighed down by assembly-line pop schmaltz — poorly written and even more poorly produced. So En Extasis is the first album where Thalía gets to sing well-written songs over lively productions. On a pair of songs, "Piel Morena" and "Me Faltas Tu," she even gets to work with two of Latin music's premier hitmakers: producer Emilio Estefan, Jr. and songwriter Kike Santander. And too, there's a song written by future Kumba King A.B. Quintanilla III, "Amandote," as well as a cover of Latin legend Juan Gabriel, "Gracias a Dios." Sure, there's some passable material interspersing these standout songs, but for the most part, Thalía gets first-rate songs to sing here and consequently she'd never sounded as good as she does here. All of the aforementioned songs are highlights, as is "Maria la del Barrio," the catchy theme song from her popular telenovela of the time. "Piel Morena" is probably the most notable song, not only because it's a dynamite album-opener but also because it was her first international hit, putting her on the Billboard Hot Latin Tracks chart for the first time (a chart she would come to dominate by the end of the decade). The key appeal of "Piel Morena," along with most of the other highlights here, is that its rhythm is anything but generic. No, the music of En Extasis doesn't neatly fit into any one category such as banda or Latin pop. It's dynamic music propelled with bits of cumbia, bits of pop, bits of salsa, bits of banda — a bit of most everything great about Latin music, in fact. She would further develop this approach on her subsequent, more fully fledged album, Amor a la Mexicana, but it's certainly on display here and makes En Extasis her first of several noteworthy albums.