MUSIC REVIEWS
Corinne Bailey Rae - Corinne Bailey Rae
David Allun Jones
Those tolerant enough to endure the calming retro styling of Norah Jones or intimate acoustic soul admissions of India.Arie will most likely find comfort in the quaint self-titled debut from Brit-soul chanteuse Corinne Bailey Rae. A study in laidback intimacy and unadulterated poetry, Rae’s brand of romanticized soft rock unsurprisingly carries little punch and more often than not, feels like it should be best served as the kind of drowsy “on-hold” music that convinces one that the cell phone company operator you’ve patiently waited twenty minutes to reach is probably ignoring your call on purpose. Still, the singer-songwriter-musician has a certain charisma displayed at certain moments that makes her likable even as you struggle ever so hard not to fall comatose.
One of those artists able to effortlessly tap into the complex layers of being a human being, Rae’s pen acts as therapy to her soul. Beaming with gratitude as she lists the ways her lover completes her on the slow burning “Like A Star”, Corinne just as quickly sums up that the downsides of love can be just as powerful as the happier times (“Still I wonder why it is/ I don’t argue like this/ With anyone but you/...Blowing out my mind”). It’s not the only time she makes such a big deal off of something so simple, quietly making note of each curious self-observation she makes. On “Enchantment”, Rae confronts her lingering obsession with another with needless convoluted prose (“It’s the kind of sleepwalk that never ends/ A type of loan with no dividends”).
Freakishly slack, Rae rarely registers above a delicate warble or loses her cool, leading to a mind-numbingness further driven by the album’s stiff reliance on its mellow presets. Such an overbearing haziness presiding over the disc makes this an album best to confront on a song-by-song basis, as too much of the same buffs Rae desirability down a ton. Thankfully, several gems pop up to expose her considerable gift. The candlelight 70’s soul of “Til It Happens To You” briefly casts the singer as a distraught lover, “Put Your Record On” is an upbeat self-help guide to let loose and “Trouble Sleeping” is spiked with flourishing horns and flutes for a frightening realization that romance is on the horizon once again (“Tell me I don’t seem myself/ Couldn’t I blame something else/ Don’t say I’m falling in love”). An attempt at crossing Billie Holliday crooning with crunchy DJ Premier drums and Chaka Khan spunk on the ill-fitting “I’d Like To” would probably be best served by Macy Gray than Corrine, on the other hand, subtly hinting that their may be a strong reason why she seems so stuck in a particular box everywhere else.
There’s enough here to present Corinne Bailey Rae as the sort of artist loved by those who appreciate relaxation or sitting in coffeehouses for hours on end and, at times, she can be an intriguing draw. Unfortunately, the stereotype immediately received from one listen to her jazzy folk-soul display would probably kill any interest most would have, strictly leaving her appeal to a niche audience with a little more patience.
