It Won't Be Soon Before Long

　　Maroon 5's 2002 debut album, Songs About Jane, was the kind of hit that doesn't happen often in the new millennium -- a genuine word-of-mouth hit whose popularity grew steadily after its release, largely due to the sweet, sunny hit "This Love," a song sly and catchy enough to stay on the adult pop charts for years without wearing out its welcome. It also was catchy enough to engender years of goodwill. Five years of goodwill, in fact, as the band toured heavily while slowly tinkering away on their second album, finally delivering It Won't Be Soon Before Long (its title perhaps a pun on the gap between records, perhaps not) half a decade after Songs About Jane. If that delay sounds like a symptom of sophomore jitters, that's not exactly true, since during that long stretch between albums Maroon 5 worked Songs About Jane and, in a sense, that album wasn't strictly their first album, either. Maroon 5 evolved out of Kara's Flowers, a post-grunge pop band whose 1997 debut never took off, not even when their debut was reissued in the wake of Maroon's success, but it did provide the group with the foundation for their success; it's where they paid their dues and learned how to be a pop band. Traces of Kara's Flowers could be heard in Maroon's rockier moments on their debut, but under their new name, the group began to develop an infatuation with blue-eyed soul-pop, which they wisely develop on It Won't Be Soon Before Long. More than develop, they modernize it, borrowing elements of Justin Timberlake's stylized synthesized soul, but Adam Levine is wise enough to know that he's no young colt, like JT. He knows that he's a pop guy, somewhat in the tradition of Hall & Oates, but he isn't trying to be retro, he's trying to fill that void, making records that are melodic, stylish, and soulful, which It Won't Be Soon Before Long certainly is. In every respect, It Won't Be Soon is a bigger album than its predecessor: hooks pile up one after another, there's not an ounce of fat on the songs, the production is so immaculate that it glistens. If there were lingering elements of Maroon 5's alt-rock past on Songs About Jane -- primarily in its lazy, hazy vibe -- they're gone now, replaced by the sleek, assured sound of a band that's eager to embrace its status as the big American mainstream pop band of the decade. But Maroon 5 isn't desperately grasping at the brass ring, they're playing it smart, building upon the core strengths of their debut and crafting a record that's designed to appeal to many different listeners, from teens crushing on Nelly Furtado's R&B makeover to adults looking for something smooth and melodic. It Won't Be Soon Before Long appeals to both audiences with an ease that seems effortless, but like any modern blockbuster, this album was shepherded by several different teams of producers, all brought in to emphasize a different personality within the group. The bulk of the record was cut with Spike Stent and Mike Elizondo -- Stent worked with U2, Oasis, Björk, and Gwen Stefani, while Elizondo had produced Fiona Apple and Pink -- but Queens of the Stone Age producer Eric Valentine was brought in for a couple of cuts, as was Mark Endert, who mixed "This Love." There may have been three different sets of producers, but the album is streamlined and seamless, never seeming calculated even if it was clearly made with an eye on mass appeal, and there are two reasons for that. First, Maroon 5 has gelled as a band, developing a clean, crisp attack that may bear traces of its influences -- there are knowing references to Prince, the Police, even OutKast sprinkled throughout (the keyboard on "Little of Your Time" is a direct nod to "Hey Ya") -- but it's a sound that's instantly identifiable as the band's own signature. Nowhere is that more evident than in how they can give soulful grooves like "If I Never See Your Face Again" a rock edge -- or how they can suddenly explode into shards of noise as they do on the coda of "Kiwi" -- or how when the electronic instruments dominate the production, the music still breathes like the work of an actual band, not like something that was constructed on a computer. But like with any good blue-eyed soul, the reason that this album works is the songs themselves. Even the flashiest production-driven tracks here -- the opening one-two punch of "If I Never See Your Face Again" and "Makes Me Wonder" -- aren't about feel; they're about the songs, which are uniformly tight and tuneful, sounding better with repeated plays, the way any radio-oriented pop should. If some of the ballads aren't as distinguished as the livelier tracks, they nevertheless are as sharply crafted as the rest, and the end result is that It Won't Be Soon Before Long is that rare self-stylized blockbuster album that sounds as big and satisfying as was intended. ~ Stephen Thomas Erlewine, All Music Guide

That's Life

　　Known affectionately as "Salford's answer to Pavarotti," UK classical music singer Russell Watson has proved adept at mixing up his classical repertoire with popular 20th century compositions. On previous albums, Watson has tackled songs by pop artists as diverse as Ultravox ("Vienna") Simon and Garfunkel ("Bridge Over Troubled Waters") and Freddie Mercury ("Barcelona"); but on That’s Life he turns his attention fully to the world of popular romance for the first time. Following in the sprightly footsteps of Frank Sinatra and Nat King Cole, Watson approaches classics like "Strangers In The Night", "When I Fall In Love" and "Born Free" with typical verve. The selection serves to showcase Watson's natural versatility to wonderful effect, and also gives him the opportunity to perform duets with acclaimed contemporary pop stars such as Alexander O'Neal and Jocelyn Brown. While the choice of songs on That’s Life is nothing extraordinary, listening to one of Britain's finest tenors delivering some of the world's most eternal love songs is an opportunity not to be missed. --Danny McKenna

Tori Amos: American Doll Posse

　　In an era of digital downloads and singles, Tori Amos embraces the concept album in a sprawling 23-song oratorio. Firing across the American psychological, social, and political landscape, she takes on the state of the world, war, and feminism. To help her, she adopts five personas--her American Doll Posse--who take their characteristics from Greek gods, but not their names: Clyde, Pip, Isabel, Santa, and Tori. You need a scorecard to keep track, but don't worry. It's still Tori Amos, bending syllables in improbable pretzels with rippling piano themes and choruses that threaten to go Broadway at any moment. Amos vents her political spleen through "Isabel," leaving no doubt as to her targets on tracks like "Yo George," and comments on our impersonal age and computer addiction with "Digital Ghost." That's sung by the character "Tori," who is reputedly based on Demeter and Dionysus, representing the split between Amos's earth-mother side and her wilder, more libertine tendencies. Anti-war and pro-feminist themes are plastered across American Doll Posse like sloganeering posters. "Dark Side of the Sun" laments both sides of the war, including the Islamists who lay down their lives "for some sick promise of heaven." Amos adopts a big '80s rock sound on many tracks, with guitarist Mac Aladdin pealing off Brian May-style guitar licks over an arena-rock beat. It's where Amos details a more personal sound that American Doll Posse leaves a lasting impression. "Girl Disappearing," sung by "Clyde," holds echoes of the Beatles' "Eleanor Rigby," not only because of the string quartet and nostalgic tone, but the updated tale of a woman losing herself. "Smokey Joe" brims with dark atmospheres, Robert Fripp-like guitar sustains, and Amos's most elaborate vocal arrangements, interweaving two sets of lyrics for "Pip." More than a concept album, American Doll Posse is a convergence experience, mixing online blogs from each character, videos, MySpace sites, and more. --John Diliberto

Have a Nice Day

　　What does a wildly successful purveyor of ‘80s big hair power ballads do in an ensuing decade dominated by fervent shoe-gazing and other attendant alt.cliches? If you’re Jon Bon Jovi, you scale back your band’s ambitions, retool yourself as surprisingly accomplished indie film and TV actor, and (mostly) wait for the pop music tides to turn in your favor again. But JBJ and guitarist/collaborator Richie Sambora didn’t let their band’s lukewarm ‘90s fortunes dampen their knack for hook-savvy songcraft, as this muscular anthem-fest argues at virtually every turn. BJ’s songs here may be as infectious as ever, yet they’re seldom mere confections, often infused with alternating doses of bracing cynicism (the title track’s sarcastic riposte to the ’04 election) and reflective, often bittersweet takes on histories both personal and otherwise. If it sometimes stoops to formula--the droning, metallic ethos of the obligatory big ballad "I Am" can’t overcome some equally perfunctory lyrics–it’s also an album with its share of warm surprises, be they unexpected nods to Dylan ("Last Man Standing," the acoustic idealism of "Bells of Freedom"), the hard-edged "I Want to Live" or a winning duet with Sugarland’s Jennifer Nettles, "Who Says You Can’t Go Home." Bon Jovi may deliver a sonically burnished triumph here by largely going back to the future--yet does it with one ear crucially cocked towards the anxious energy of the recent past. -- Jerry McCulley

Under the Iron Sea

　　If U2 hadn't already released a pair of career retrospective discs, this British trio's second album would neatly do the trick in one. Not much of a surprise since Keane spent a good deal of time supporting Bono and company following the release their breakthrough debut, Hopes and Fears. From the melancholic "Crystal Ball" to the sinisterly beautiful "Is It Any Wonder?" (a blatant homage to "Zoo Station"), Keane have perfected their forebear's dark stadium-rock formula on their second album, all the more miraculous considering it was once again done without guitars. If Under the Iron Sea sounds considerably edgier than its predecessor, that's because it was recorded while the band was on the verge of splitting. But the friction has also given Keane a renewed sense of purpose, breaking the mid-tempo monotony with vibrant material such as "Nothing in My Way" and "Try Again": soaring songs that make the band sound unsinkable. -- Aidin Vaziri

Songs About Jane

　　The boys of Maroon 5 have certainly come a long way since their days in the indie outfit Kara's Flowers. After the band's demise in 1999, frontman Adam Levine surrounded himself with New York City's urban hip-hop culture and found a new musical calling. Maroon 5 was born and their debut album, Songs About Jane, illustrates an impressive rebirth. It's groovy in spots, offering bluesy funk on "Shiver" and a catchy, soulful disposition on "Harder to Breathe." "Must Get Out" slows things down with its dreamy lyrical story, and Levine is a vocal dead ringer for Men at Work's Colin Hay. Don't wince -- it works brilliantly. Songs About Jane is love-drunk on what makes Maroon 5 tick as a band. They're not as glossy as the Phantom Planet darlings; they've got grit and a sexy strut, personally and musically. It's much too slick to cross over commercially in 2002, but it's good enough for the pop kids to take notice. ~ MacKenzie Wilson, All Music Guide

The Italian

　　Style, sophistication, elegance...where can we find that old-school cool in our consumer culture of instantly disposable celebrity? Time to meet Patrizio Buanne. Tall, dark and handsome, perfectly groomed and impeccably dressed, the clean cut Italian with the rich baritone voice is an enigma. Inspired by the singers of yesteryear, Patrizio harks back to a time when a man would not dream of singing on stage in anything less than a suit, shoes, polished, clean-shaven, hair neatly brushed, with a dab of cologne behind the ears. Nothing strange about that, you might say. Except that Patrizio is only 26 years old - and hopelessly devoted to his art - romantic crooning.

　　Dean Martin, Paul Anka, Tom Jones, along with the traditional Italian singers - these are the men he idolizes. Unfashionable? Perhaps, on first impression. But as they say: style is temporary and class is permanent. "Less is more - those artists perform great melodies - it's so fantastic to go onstage performing beautiful melodies with an orchestra behind you."

　　Raised in Naples, he moved to Vienna at the age of six when his father opened Austria's first pizzeria. But his fiercely patriotic father would play only Italian music at home. When he was 8 his parents bought him a guitar and at 11 years old Patrizio made his first public performance at a talent contest for schools. Patrizio then began to enter more talent competitions - and always won first prize. At the age of 17 Patrizio was invited to sing for the Pope in Poland, performing in front of his biggest audience yet - 85,000 people - which led to a recording contract shortly thereafter at age 17. However, tragedy soon followed when his beloved father died shortly after Patrizio's 17th birthday. But one thing made Patrizio determined to survive. "I had promised my father I would be a superstar and make my name - his name - famous. It is always music that reminds me of my father and makes me happy."

　　In 1999 Patrizio took up on an uncle's offer to return to Italy and, after winning yet another talent show, found himself offered a job as a TV entertainer. Soon he was one of the most popular young faces on Italian television, hosting his own show in between studying languages at a university in Rome. But his dream was still to be a recording artist - and most of all to be successful in Great Britain and America.

　　In 2003 Patrizio was introduced to music producer Christian Seitz. They both shared the same passion and vision for music, so bravely quitting his burgeoning TV career they went to work on the album - going into London's world famous Abbey Road studios with the Royal Philharmonic Orchestra to realize his dream. 18 months later the result is L'Italiano (The Italian), an album mixing traditional Neapolitan romance and singing tradition with Italian standards from the '50s and '60s - songs barely known outside of Italy but destined to become favorites for a new generation.

　　To listen to Patrizio is to immerse yourself in the soundtrack of a world familiar from film and television - from Federico Fellini and Sophia Loren to The Godfather, Goodfellas, and The Sopranos. "My music is as Italian as pasta in an Italian kitchen," says Patrizio. "These songs are timeless classics. To me, crooning is more than a way of singing; it's a way of life! And I want to share that with a new audience."