I've always had the most begrudging respect for singer/songwriters. Putting one's music on the line, usually spilling out intimate details of past/current relationships in the process, has to be an extremely difficult proposition and must haunt the performer in some small or large way.
Trouble is, you really have to have something special to pull yourself out of the mire of your fellow singer/songwriters, something that makes your songs either pop sonically or are filled with affecting and effective lyrics and melodies. I try to give most of these folks the benefit of the doubt when their music comes across my cluttered desk, but there are so few that give me pause and make me want to hit the play button a second time after the disc has stopped spinning. Unfortunately, Mr. Michel's music will not be warranting repeat listens on my shoddy CD player.
The songs on this CD are, for the most part, mid-tempo lilting affairs, affecting a Jeff Buckley-like air, but without any of the ethereal wistfulness that made Buckley's albums so heart-wrenching and infinitely listenable. As well, Michel's lyrics are troubled, making reference to love being like a piano, the flight of Icarus, and other such muddled similes. The saving grace of any of these songs is Michel's pleasant, warm voice, which he doesn't try to stretch and overreach to notes outside his range. He knows what he's doing with that instrument, but it feels wasted once you start digging past the surface of his material.
God knows I could never do what Paul Michel and so many others like him are doing. But I can't help but feel disappointed when I hear albums like this. Albums chock full of decent music and melodies, but also lacking in any kind of heart, bile, anger, or spirit to speak of. It's middle of the road fare for middle of the road people.