RIYL: Prefab Sprout, David Gray, Beautiful South
Normally, one might think of Norway as kind of an isolated place, at least in terms of its being removed from the mainstream. However, considering ex-patriot Sondre Lerche’s ability to absorb soft rock styles and recycle them in his own breathless, breezy style, he’s clearly in sync when it comes to fashioning a radio-ready formula. Lerche’s previous albums have shown a steady evolution in honing his approach and smoothing over the rough edges, ensuring that Heartbreak Radio isn’t only palatable to the masses but possibly his most accessible effort yet. Lerche’s powder-puff vocals are as unobtrusive as cotton candy, but underscored by the teeming pulse and rambunctious strings of “Good Luck,” the staccato rhythm of “If Only,” and the unruly – relatively speaking – posturing of “Easy to Persuade” and “Almighty Moon,” Lerche is mostly able to avoid coming across as completely cloying. Not that he skirts it altogether; the giddy designs of “Words & Music,” the smooth croon of “I Cannot Let You Go” and schmaltzy posturing of “Goodnight” are mired in a syrupy sound best suited to the vacuous airs of an adult contemporary radio format. It stands to reason then that only when its pulse starts pumping, Heartbeat Radio gets its blood flowing. (Rounder 2009)
They’ve been feted in countless compilations, but Daryl Hall and John Oates have never received the deluxe box set treatment until now – which seems odd, considering they’re the top-selling duo of all time. The cumbersomely named Do What You Want, Be What You Are: The Music of Daryl Hall John Oates has been in the works for over a decade, tumbling to Legacy when Sony merged with BMG a few years ago, and for once, a corporate mega-merger bears a little artistic fruit; just about everything the duo has done, from pre-H&O recordings with the Masters and the Temptones through their early Atlantic years as a folk/rock act and on into their most recent incarnation as a slick adult contemporary object of Yacht Rock hipster fetishism, is here. The hits are present and accounted for, of course, which is actually what puts a hiccup in Do What You Want’s stride: Is there a Hall and Oates fan on Earth who doesn’t already have at least one of their best-of compilations? Is there any such thing as a “casual” fan of the duo that’s willing to drop coin on a four-disc box? This set tries to play to both groups, lumping in Hall and Oates’ amazing streak of hits alongside a smattering of deep cuts, live performances, and demos. It’s a pleasantly full-figured portrait of their work, but it has the nasty side effect of rendering Disc Three essentially worthless (or, at the very least, utterly redundant) for the hardcore fans who have been waiting for this collection.
