Artists like James Blunt will always have haters, and perhaps that's best for the musician and fan alike. Relentless criticism from all sources ensures those who embrace the colloquial rhythm and assessable melody don't allow themselves to become participants in the pop equivalent of the ancient vomitorium. Following an excellent debut with the infectious — and perhaps annoyingly popular — summer hit "You're Beautiful," Blunt's sophomore release All the Lost Souls is the successful product of such criticism. Staying true to the simple low-key balladry that made Back to Bedlam fun yet engaging while never becoming too sickly sweet, Blunt expands upon his early material's themes while responding charismatically to newfound notoriety.
Forced to accept seemingly spontaneous fame and respond musically in an effective fashion, Blunt employs his most critical gift — an almost unparalleled ability in Western mainstream music to convey youthful heartache — while embracing new ideas pertinent to his current standing in pop-culture.
The first single, "1973," opens All the Lost Souls with sonic grandeur, layering plucked guitars and a prominent bass line over a melancholic piano rift. Blunt recalls Simone, an avatar from the former experiences he dreams about but can never reclaim. This contagious track exposes how people can live in the past and often even imprison themselves in their memories. Blunt sings, "And though time goes by, I will always be/ in a club with you in 1973/ singing, 'Here we go again.'" The sonic layering of the song is briefly removed near its conclusion, exposing the tremor of Blunt's voice during the final refrain, then resumes in a crescendo-like finish.
Still a fan of high octave whining, Blunt stands by the songwriting approach instituted in his debut. Throughout the ballads "Same Mistake" and "Carry You Home" — both highlights of the album — piano or keyboards and exposed acoustic guitar riffs are accented by delicate electric guitar and the emotional strain of a voice innately filled with bittersweet melancholy. Internet-circulated demo and live-staple "I Really Want You" is an even clearer exposé of crippling heartbreak and is carried by Blunt's expressivity. Confessional lyrics bookend the track and allow the song to resonate in the listener's emotional consciousness: "No matter what I say or do/ the message isn't getting through/ and you're listening to the sound of my breaking heart."
All the Lost Souls, though, is most surprising when it pleasantly departs from Blunt's established style and thematic content. "Annie" is an overt jab at a girl whose big dreams imposed on her acquaintances never materialize. Similar to the sarcastic call-out of Willie Nelson's "Sad Songs & Waltzes," the song shockingly asks Annie "Will you go down on me?" in return for the notoriety she will receive from the track's listeners. Also noteworthy are Blunt's allusions to other artists' songs. The final track on the album, "I Can't Hear the Music," alludes to the Beatles, the Flaming Lips and Aerosmith with the lyric "So won't you run, Yoshimi, run?/ 'Cause Billy's got himself a gun."
"One of the Brightest Stars" is notable for its peculiar melodic style — reminiscent of late '60s ballads — and pronounced response to Blunt's fame and critics. The bitter troubadour cants in his falsetto about how everyone claimed to know the future celebrity was soon to be famous. Pondering his current situation he whispers, "And they'll say told you so/ We were the ones who saw you first of all/ We always knew that you were one of the brightest stars." Blunt knows the first steps of an artist are perilous and only the luckiest end in fame and fortune. He also knows that luck has been his as well, but frankly asks with All the Lost Souls — a distinguished and entertaining second effort justified in its request — for everyone to "Give Me Some Love."
Atlantic (USA)
