If Shelly Poole really has ‘confounded musicologists’ with an album that escapes ‘definition’ and ‘logic’ then it’s likely that they’ve forgotten the phrase easy listening. Burt Bacharach, Carole King, Tony Bennett, Neil Sedaka, Boyce and Hart – all were once idolised for their unpretentious brand of sweet and tender tunesmithery. They weren’t always cool, they weren’t necessarily sexy and they didn’t require phone-in votes, text-messaging or ringtones to gain ground on Top Of The Pops. And they relied, surprisingly, not on their looks but on their ability to pull off song after song of consummate and wickedly addictive pop. Easy on the aggressive marketing ploys. Easy on the listening.
Shelly Poole should know a thing or two about pop. As one half of the platinum selling Alisha’s Attic with her sister Karen in the late nineties, Shelly got the chance to work with some the period’s most sought after producers: Dave Stewart, Bill Bottrell and Mark Plati, so things were always likely to be consummate, slick and literally dripping with lush arrangements. Collaborations with Atomic Kitten, Sophie Ellis Bextor, Elizabeth Fraser and Rachel Stevens would suggest she’s also covered a fair area of ground stylistically too. On the otherhand, if Shelly has ‘defied logic’ and ‘confounded musicologists’ it’s because she has managed to craft an album that finds itself exempt from classification under rule #1 of the music handbook: ‘Hard Time For The Dreamer’ consists almost entirely of back-to-back hummability and sweetness.
From the wistful and drowsy title track to the tragically fragile ‘ Hope’ with swoonful Italian New Yorker, Jack Savoretti Shelly’s debut is a gently and evenly paced blend of soft country rock (‘Don’t Look That Way’, ‘Anyday Now’), louche downtempo ‘(Totally Underwater’ – an ITune single of the week) and pretty, string laden pop (‘Little Wonder’). It’s not breaking barriers, only hearts.
Apparently Shelly is one of the nicest people in the business. And there’s nothing wrong with nice.