I am Shelby Lynne

Let's get one thing straight from the get-go: contrary to the ecstatic review blurbs plastered onto the packaging of her I Am Shelby Lynne CD, Shelby Lynne does not have soul. She does a very convincing pantomime of it. She has sharp pop sensibilities, a beautiful voice and her album's a good listen. But she does not have soul.

The closest approximation to her approach isn't Aretha Franklin, Bonnie Raitt, or even Dusty Springfield--it's Paul McCartney. Like Lynne, McCartney is a master of what one might call "theatrical soul." It's a very convincing representation of true soul, but no matter how many times you listen to it, it still doesn't have soul. It has emotion, sure, but not soul. "Oh Darling" from Abbey Road is a perfect example--McCartney's voice is a raw howl that's eons removed from his typically smooth vocals, and it's a song filled with passion and longing, but it's all a show. You sense that the minute the session was over, he traipsed his way into the booth for a spot of tea while he listened to the playback.

From the first song on I Am Shelby Lynne, Lynne demonstrates a mastery of theatrical soul that's striking for an artist of her age. "Your Lies" comes out like a kick in the gut and yanks on your heartstrings right off the bat. It's an evocative page torn straight from the playbook of sixties' soul music. And yet, there's a slickness to it that draws it closer to the Motown ideal of polished, elegant pop soul than to the raw emotion of Stax soul cuts. Toss in a few guitar solos that George Harrison himself might be proud to claim, and suddenly you don't have much soul to speak of at all--it's just theatrical soul. It sounds like soul, it feels like soul, and if you close your eyes, you might be able to trick yourself into believing that it IS soul music. But it ain't. Lynne's heart isn't ripped from her chest when she's done with a number, as you fear it might be when you're listening to Aretha. She probably just traipses off to the control booth like that fab guy might have in the sixties for a Diet Coke and a donut.

That's the chief problem with I Am Shelby Lynne--Lynne just can't master the leap into sincere soul music. The songs are always tempered with a heavy pop sheen. It's even worse when she tries for the old-school country twang of Lucinda Williams, on "Life is Bad." Again, she just can't go all the way. Whether she realizes it or not, something holds her back from crossing the finish line. She's only about two-thirds of the way toward brittle, sincere, edgy music.

Maybe what's holding her back is producer Bill Bottrell. An easy comparison can be made to Bottrell's last great female singer-songwriter success, Sheryl Crow. Like Lynne, Crow released a polished yet strangely uneven debut record. Tuesday Night Music Club met with massive success and established Crow as an artist--yet when her follow-up record came along, it was light-years ahead of Tuesday Night Music Club, and Bottrell had nothing to do with it. Sheryl Crow was edgy, passionate and explosive, everything Tuesday Night Music Club was not. Based on Crow's evolution as an artist after Bottrell, it seems like the guy might have a knack for glossy pop songs but can't quite make things happen when it comes to showcasing an artist's true self.

Of course, if you follow that argument to its logical conclusion, then Lynne is just a corporate construct of megagiant conglomerate Universal, packaged with just the right sheen to appeal to the greatest number of people at once. After a gander at the seductive photos featured on the packaging, you might be more ready to buy into that argument. You might even be ready to toss Lynne out the window as just another manufactured pop princess designed to sell as many records as possible, soul be damned.

But why be cynical? Better simply to admit that I Am Shelby Lynne is a strong record, accomplished and fun to spin, but that Lynne has a long way to go before she's worthy to share a sentence with her foremothers in pop music. She's got a long road to travel before she can sing with soul.