Clare Maguire - Light After Dark

Tagline: 'This big-voiced belter from Birmingham doesn't need X Factor to get her talent heard. Amy Winehouse, you have been warned...' (The Guardian, in a generally positive mood, as per usual)

Things are moving fast for Irish nightingale Clare Maguire since the BBC named her one of the most promising new artists for 2011. She has since recorded her first album, was named Q magazine's biggest new voice and toured alongside synthpop band Hurts. She has even left leadsinger Theo Hutchcraft speechless and received praise from La Roux' Elly Jackson for her honest emotions. So high expectations for the 23 year old singer born in Solihull. And listening to Clare Maguire's debut Light After Dark, it's difficult not to make comparisons with some other. Strong women like Florence Welch or Anna Calvi on the one hand, women with an astonishing voice and a personality to match. On the other end of the scale however a comparison with X Factor winner Leona Lewis springs to mind. Sure, she can sing, but who gives a damn if you have the personality of a sock puppet. Maguire seems to fall somewhere in the middle with her debut. 

Light After Dark takes off promising with Maguire's vocal acrobatics drawing you closer in the appropriatly titled opener 'Are You Ready?' followed by 'Shield and Sword', a powerful pop track in full Florence + the Machine gear. Unfortunately Light After Dark sometimes sounds too much like a crowd-pleaser. Ballad 'You're Electric' reeks of the whole Leone Lewis R&B with a hint of synth set-up and never surpasses the average. And the crowd-pleasing culminates in 'I surrender', a pretty standard, radio-friendly pop track inches away from being one of those generic dance-pop abortions x-facor marionets such as Agnes would happily sign for. Of course the record never gets close to really going haywire. Because if all else fails, Maguire still has her voice to fall back on, which instantly lift everything up a notch. Toward melodrama on the better moments reaching Florence or Anna levels. On the weaker moments though the songs border on cheesy ('Bullet') or even sound a little dull ('Freedom'). When she does hit the mark though, she shows that this album may not yet be fully representative of her full potential. The thrilling and dramatic 'Ain't Nobody' for instance, her debut single, which makes for one of the highlights of the record. The only real problem now is consistency as she combines her incredible voice, a couple of hit-and-miss ballads worthy of the greatest 1980's soulpop diva's (try to suppress a Miranda-moment during 'Break These Chains') and a few generic choises with glimps of excellence here and there ('Sweet Lie', 'Shield and Sword', 'Ain't Nobody').

The album was produced by Fraser T. Smith, who has previously produced charttoppers for radio-friendly pop diva's like Kylie Minogue, Adele  and Tayo Cruz and that's not hard to hear. Perfectly mainstreamed pop tunes for the greater audience, yes, but not the most interesting credentials in terms of taking risks. And the main issue with this record is that Smith's overpolished tracks sometimes lack the emotional tension these songs so desperately crave, something even Maguire at full range can't compensate. Clare Maguire clearly shows that she is talented, but her debut can't avoid a certain hollowness, at times sounding pompous and overcomposed rather than deep and layered. So from a critic's point of view this album - albeit decent in every way - falls a bit short from being the show-stopper it could have been - and going of on the pre-release buzz should have been. Clare Maguire may not need X Factor to get her talent heard, but for the time being she does seem to need the X Factor framework. But on a bright note, there's little doubt that it will sell well at next year's Grammy's.

Tracklist

1. Are You Ready? (Intro)

2. Shield And Sword

3. Last Dance

4. Freedom

5. I Surrender

6. Bullet

7. Happiest Pretenders

8. Sweet Lie

9. Break These Chains

10. You're Electric

11. Ain't Nobody

12. Light After Dark

13. This Is Not The End