Published on Apr 19, 2005
Back in the nineties when she seemed to be able to do no wrong,
one reviewer famously said that Mariah Carey could sing the phone
book and still sell millions. You can think of this quote as the
pop/R&B version of “I saw rock and roll future and its name is
blah blah blah.”
It pays to have a simple media schtick: “I’m no rocket
scientist, I’m no publicity artist a la Madonna, but I do know
every single R&B and hip-hop track ever recorded in the United
States of America and you’re never going to hear me sing about what
a bitch it is to be rich and famous, on any of my albums, ever.” We
can relate to that. Carey’s not part of the Celebrity Race, she’s
just the embodiment of the good ol’ American rotestant work ethic:
work really hard at and love what you choose to do, don’t ever
whine in public, pay off mortgage gazillion times over. God bless
America.
Oh yeah, I’m supposed to be writing about the best album of her
career.
Carey reportedly grew up listening to the R&B soul hits of
the late seventies, and tried to recreate the feel of those songs
by bringing in a live band and leaving in some
you-gotta-get-ugly-if-you-wanna-sing scratchy bits in her leads.
What we end up with is Neo Soul, somewhat similar to the sound
Erykah Badu recently abandoned for Ghetto Lilith Fair.
Songs like “Circles” and “Your Girl” have choruses that seem to
be lifted from another era, and a track called “Joy Ride” sounds
like a forgotten Minnie Riperton B-side. My favorite song in this
vibe is “Stay the Night” a dance track driven mostly by piano and
drums and Carey’s voice turned on full. It’s like turning on the
radio in ’70s Brooklyn, only having the most recognizable pop
vocalist of the ’90s crafting those riffs, creating this atmosphere
that’s all postmodern and interesting (I guess this is why they
insist on putting the Neo in Neo Soul).
This album is being advertised as “The Return Of The Voice”
(which is more of an apology for the mostly whispered 2002 release
Charmbracelet) and no track makes this point better than “Mine
Again,” a simply written ballad with a clear melody and the Voice
practically offering itself to inspection (“Uh, let me hear those
belted notes again? OK”). But the best ballad on the album is the
soulfully understated “We Belong Together” which does the two
things Carey does best: sing sad, and shoot to number one.
Of course we have our party tracks, featuring A-list rappers as
always, that gives the album a much edgier feel: “Say Somethin'”
featuring Snoop Dogg, “Get Your Number” with Jermaine Dupri, “To
The Floor” with Nelly and “One And Only” with Twista. But the thing
about party tracks is that you either have to have a great sound
system or go to a club and wait for that transcendent moment when
the DJ saves your life with a song. I’m more of a
put-CD-in-stereo-and-lie-on-floor-depressed type of person,
although I did hear a remix of “It’s Like That” played recently in
a club and it had the effect of an instant collective upper.
Great sound and consistently positive, so not the phone book. I
saw R&B present, and its name is Mariah Carey.