Susan Boyle: “I Dreamed a Dream”
(Syco Music/Columbia)
Since she first raised her arms in what now seems like a blessing on the talent show “Britain’s Got Talent,” revealing herself as the new queen of pop’s Island of Misfit Toys, Susan Boyle has come to mean several things to her fans: hope, the triumph of the ordinary, the reality-television embodiment of the Euro-American Dream. As a singer, though, she offers something else: relief.
Boyle’s clear but warm tone and stolid phrasing turns everything it touches into a more songful version of New Age music. It’s relaxing to listen to those drawn-out syllables, gradually building toward a gentle, wavelike climax. Boyle possesses neither an impulse to swing nor an ounce of the blues; whether she’s covering the Monkees, the Rolling Stones or Madonna, Boyle sings like she’s in a place of worship, surrounded by white walls and soft light, cooking up some chicken soup for the soul.
Her unearthly calm and gently piercing timbre are her best qualities.
It’s what makes her version of the Rolling Stones’ “Wild Horses” so touching. Instead of Mick Jagger’s moaning, slightly derisive take on heartache, hers is truly resigned, the sound of someone who really understands and accepts life’s limitations.
Maybe that’s why the sadder songs on her album are the best. Boyle taps into the melancholy, if not the sexy languor, of Julie London on “Cry Me a River” and gives a beautiful reading of Skeeter Davis’ heartbreakingly polite “The End of the World.” There’s a lonesomeness to these versions that’s almost startling, especially compared with the overwrought emotionalism of many younger pop stars.
The same mood doesn’t work on “Daydream Believer,” which should have more pep, or the more current (and blander) compositions “Who I Was Born to Be” and “Proud.” Boyle is perfectly comfortable singing actual hymns like “Amazing Grace,” although her take on them is pretty much on a level with any local church’s choir star. She’s at her worst when she pushes harder; she doesn’t know how to build drama, and her throat seems to constrict as she reaches for bigger notes.
While the material on this collection provides some interest, other possibilities for Boyle’s particular gift tantalize. What would David Lynch, whose films (and soundtracks) always find the strange underbelly of the seemingly bland, do with her? Boyle seems up for new challenges. I would like to see her take a trip up Mulholland Drive. Ann Powers. Los Angeles Times
John Mayer “Battle Studies”
(Sony)
Jessica Simpson must have done quite a number on the most genial tall-dark-and-handsome of the 2000s. Despite an even more milquetoast synergy than usual — U2 meets Sting on the opener — the fourth album from the cornball writer of “Your Body Is a Wonderland” is easily his darkest.
It’s ironic how angry he is, considering that his last huge one was a plea for peace (and Barack Obama) called “Waiting on the World to Change.” The word “War” appears in two song titles here, and lest the album title confuse you, this isn’t a political record.Nothing on “Battle Studies” approaches the tenderness of earlier Mayer tunes such as “No Such Thing” or “Daughters,” or even the goofy bedplay of “Wonderland.”
In the most technical, paradigmatic way possible, yes, he’s more tuneful than hipper alternatives like Grizzly Bear — just check the Taylor Swift duet. But the tepid backwash here makes her likable fluff sound raucous by comparison. And while Swift is easily livelier, hookier, and more fun to listen to, she’s also less jaded. Is that the change Mayer was waiting on? Dan Weiss, Philadelphia Inquirer
