First of all, Josh Groban DOES have a great voice. Seriously, the fella would kill on Broadway in a couple more years. That said, this album is gawd-awful. Overwrought production, cringe-inducing faux-emotional balladry, and pretentious foreign language tracks make this a nearly unlistenable piece of tripe, and positions Groban as the male Celine Dion. My opinion of Groban as an artist (not a singer, an artist) was not improved when I happened to see a 5-minute infomercial for "Closer" on TV one night; morbid curiousity dictated that I watch, and I'm worse off for it. Just like the CD, it was an agglomeration of phoney sentiment, a lot of soft-lensed, wistful stares into the camera or just off stage-right, and in the spot's most comical moment, a clip in which Groban has grown a "beard" that makes him look like Wolverine's testosterone-challenged younger brother. You wanna hear Josh Groban? Wait until he plays the Phantom, or Valjean. Don't buy "Closer."