Artist: Simone Felice
Album: Simone Felice
Bitrate: 226kbps avg
Quality: EAC Secure Mode / LAME 3.98.4 / -V0 / 44.100Khz
Label: Reveal Records
Genre: Folk/Rock
Size: 69.90 megs
PlayTime: 0h 40min 59sec total
Rip Date: 2012-04-06
Store Date: 2012-04-02
Track List:
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01. Hey Bobby Ray 3:58
02. You & I Belong 3:16
03. New York Times 4:06
04. Courtney Love 3:17
05. Stormy-Eyed Sarah 2:56
06. Charade 5:42
07. Dawn Brady's Son 5:28
08. Gimme All You Got 3:25
09. Ballad Of Sharon Tate 4:50
10. Splendor In The Grass 4:01
Release Notes:
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It is said that we define ourselves by contrasts; we may not know what we are,
but we know acutely what we are not. The period that prompted Simone FeliceÆs
first solo album was one of shuddering, seismic contrasts for the
singer-songwriter. Following a string of blackouts in 2010 he was diagnosed with
a life threatening congenital heart defect, undergoing emergency surgery during
which both his lungs collapsed. Just one month later, his first daughter was
born. From the very real prospect of death sprang life - rebirth and birth -
within a matter of weeks.
ItÆs understandable that such events might prompt Felice to shuffle into the
spotlight under his own name for the first time following a critically acclaimed
career with both The Duke And The King and the Felice Brothers. What is
immediate when listening to FeliceÆs record, the eponymous title declaiming
presentation or self-exploration, is indeed a notion of life, but not in the
direct, autobiographical lyrical bent you might expect from a man experiencing
triumphs and travails. ThatÆs a well-trodden road and Felice, arguably the
nearest thing Americana currently has to a Renaissance man being a published
poet, novelist and multi-instrumentalist, is too sharp a customer for such
comfortable fall-backs.
This sense of life on the album is instead musical. Whilst it was recorded in
five distinct locations - an old church in London, a Manhattan apartment, a
studio in Woodstock, and both an abandoned high school and FeliceÆs barn in the
Catskill Mountains of New York state - itÆs beautifully drawn together, feeling
both spare and tactile yet whole. Hey Bobby Ray opens with a ghostly flicker, a
mood piece about retribution which hangs on FeliceÆs vulnerable voice and a few
layers of synth before a girlsÆ choir crashes in.
Often it can sound spartan: you can hear Felice tapping his foot to keep time
during Courtney Love, in which he takes an earnest protector role to muse over
the desperation of celebrity, and his brow-beaten sighs are caught during the
punch-drunk Charade. Such immediacy is arresting. Matters feel both live and
alive, a sensible tactic that pushes two of FeliceÆs strengths to the fore,
namely his keen sense of melody and a vocal timbre that recalls a Tea For The
Tillerman era Cat Stevens. The record feels like an old, threadbare blanket -
gappy, frayed and pulled but still comforting. Its minor keyed soul is well
judged, Felice careful to ensure that nothing outstays its welcome.
Whilst thereÆs intimacy at many points, weÆre still kept at armÆs length. At
first Felice is inclusive - You & I rattles along with a reckless first-person
joy, all abandonment and opportunity. Yet he often retreats and closes off,
percolating his persona through a cast of characters living out the shattered
American dream: stoned gas station attendants, soulless celebrities, bored
suburbanites; the typical romance of the lost. ItÆs fine, but it doesnÆt always
work - the storytelling is essentially at odds with the deeply personal musical
execution. Sometimes less is more, and thereÆs the feeling that Felice could
have reined in his narrative instincts in favour of the personal to better serve
the record. New York Times especially overreaches, spilling out a hackneyed
account of reading the paper which mentions everything from helicopter pilots,
baseball, drugs and child killing to, bizarrely, the death of Michael Jackson.
Simone Felice is essentially a set of accomplished country gospel-noir songs -
certainly no bad thing - and the record has a rare rawness of performance which
makes for compelling listening. However, in backing away from self-exploration
to match the hushed, close atmosphere it also feels like a missed opportunity.
Still, it says much for FeliceÆs talent that in only briefly showing his scars
he can still make a commendable album. ThereÆs plenty to suggest that the great
one he's capable of is yet to come.